by Krista | Mar 8, 2012 | Plucky Thursday
After my exhilarating boat ride from Elate Island to Nguna Island in Vanuatu, I trudge my dog-tired, roasting hot self up off the beach and into the cooler shade of the dirt-packed main road of Nguna.
The walk from the beach to the Vat-Vaka Bungalows is not far, maybe 2-3 minutes. It’s a beautiful walk, wending through a bush filled with tropical flowers and the most amazing trees with trunks that tower and twist like sinews.
Vat-Vaka is not a luxury resort. It does not have air-conditioning or running water or even electricity, but if it’s simple beauty you want, it is perfect.
Vat-Vaka is a family-run and family-built establishment. Joseph, the patriarch of the clan, is the chief cook who makes my deliciously hearty dinner and breakfast. Several of his sons built the bungalows, kitchen, and bathroom hut, and his youngest son Yoan runs the business end of things via a modest website, cell phone, and weekly trips to Port Vila to check his email.
I admit I am smitten when I shuffle up the ankle-deep sandy path to my little bungalow. There’s something so lovely about having a place all to yourself, no matter how small or rustic. I love the diminutive front porch looking out through the trees to my own private beach. I grin at the white mosquito netting knotted just so above the bed and am charmed by the wood and cardboard door, painted white and a cheery yellow. The walls are hung with traditional print fabrics and sunlight glints through dozens of gaps in the woven palm leaf roof. A secure fortress it is not, but I love it.
I especially love that someone has come through and carefully placed fresh hibiscus and frangipani blossoms all over the place. I like little touches like that.
After giving me a teensy rusted key for the equally tiny lock on my door, Yoan gives me the grand tour, starting with the bathroom facilities.
I should’ve known what to expect when a “Western style toilet” was listed as an amenity, but have to chuckle when I discover that while yes, indeed, there is a Western style toilet, it only flushes if you carry in two buckets of water from the rain barrel outside. The shower holds a similar situation. It is definitely a shower stall, but any ablutions are possible only with the aid of a second, larger bucket filled and refilled from the same rain barrel.
Yoan informs me that I can “wash in the sea, then pour one bucket over my head.” Hmm. Such situations call for a stiff upper lip and a dash of creativity. I’m already plotting a much better way to tidy myself up. 🙂
Leaving the loo behind, we cross the road and enter a gate through a white rail fence hung with even more hibiscus flowers. We enter the kitchen/dining area, an open-walled bungalow with sandy floor and tall trees blocking out the hot sun. It is nice and cool in here, especially with the sea breezes blowing through. We sit down at a table set with water (thank you!!) to work out the bill (approximately $35 for my bungalow and three home cooked meals), and once that is taken care of, the rest of the afternoon is mine.
I guzzle more water then don my bathing suit, grab towel, journal and camera, and head for my little private beach for a swim in the glow of the setting sun.
The warm water of the Coral Sea feels absolutely heavenly as it washes over me, easing away the aches and stresses of my journey, whisking away any memory of sweltering heat and humidity.
No matter which way I look the white sand beach is empty. Over the next island a single rainbow turns into a double and I smile in grateful awe.
I am blissfully alone on the shores of a tropical island. It is definitely the best $35 I’ve ever spent.
by Krista | Mar 6, 2012 | Compatriot Wednesday
I arrive in Port Vila, Vanuatu mid-afternoon, sweltering hot but in good spirits after a grand ol’ visit with my seatmate, a jolly Aussie bloke from Bundaberg.
Dripping from the heat I beam at my host, Yoan, so glad he’s there to meet me and help me navigate my way to his family bungalows on Nguna Island. We find the car and driver he’s rented for me, load my little bits of luggage and then we’re off.
Our trek lead us along Vanuatu’s main road, a narrow but paved strip that was built only a couple of years ago by New Zealand investors. Yoan and his friend are very proud of this new road, explaining that a trip that takes 45 minutes now used to take 3-4 hours on the old dirt track.
I feel happy for them, trying to imagine the time and effort that would’ve gone into making a trip to Port Vila in the past. Frequent flood warnings are a minor inconvenience on this paved road. We simply have to slow down and the water is easily forded. But on a dirt road, a sudden influx of water would’ve been a catastrophe.
The smooth ride leads us through gloriously lush countryside dotted with towering palms dangling with clusters of coconuts, bananas and pineapples. My favorite parts are the villages, and I love when sharp curves force us to slow down, giving me amazing glimpses of brightly colored homes, school children waving as they walk home from school, women in vividly flowered dresses minding little ones or taking a break in the shade. I find myself wanting to shout, “STOP! STOP!” every other second so I can take pictures. But such antics would annoy even the most patient of drivers, so I content myself with snapping shots out the window, not caring that some are so blurry only I can tell what they are supposed to be.
Forty-five minutes later I see a large concrete dock jutting out from shore, clusters of villagers standing here and there waiting for their boat back to their island. They are dressed in a marvelous array of colors that stand out brilliantly against the blue of the sky and sea. I am mesmerized, feeling as though I’ve been plopped down into the pages of National Geographic. My driver takes me right out to the end of the dock, expertly navigating sacks of rice and baskets full of produce.
It is not quite time for the ferry to Nguna Island (pronounced noonah), so I join the waiting islanders, feeling rather conspicuous under their open gazes. I smile bravely and am rewarded with smiles in return, smiles that transform some rather intimidating visages.
When it’s time to board our little vessel, the village women make room for me on the bench, inspecting me openly though not unkindly. It is a little disconcerting, but I get over my self-consciousness as the motor starts and we get underway.
We slowly putter past the dock, noticing with interest the arrival of a new yellow and turquoise boat about to be lowered onto the waves. Then our driver cranks up the motor and we head out to sea.
Much to my delight, Yoan invites me to join him sitting somewhat precariously atop the motor boat. So I kick off my shoes, hand him my camera, and clamber up the side of the boat, grateful when the boatman slows down a bit so I don’t tumble head first into the Coral Sea.
It is definitely the best spot in the house. Behind us lies the main island of Efate where the capital city Port Vila is located. Ahead rise numerous islands, including Emao, Mataso, and our destination, Nguna.
After the sweltering heat of Efate, the wind and salty spray feel absolutely heavenly. My hair is a wreck in about five seconds, but I could care less. On these gorgeous but humid tropical isles, nothing is more wonderful than feeling cool.
As we motor along, Yoan fills me in on some of the history of Vanuatu. Until 1980, Vanuatu was known as the New Hebrides, and was jointly claimed by the Brits and the French. In 1980 the New Hebrides achieved independence and took on the new name of Vanuatu. Yoan said his country is comprised of about 83 islands, all of which have their own language, some of them have more than three or four with different dialects for each! After a bit of thought he concluded that most Vanuatans speak at least four languages: Pigeon, French, English, and the language of their tribe. I was very impressed.
He also explained that while most islanders are able to grow their own food, there is very little ability to earn money unless you travel to Efate to sell what has been grown or made. He said six days a week women from Nguna travel to Port Vila to sell produce to earn money for their families. On Sundays everything stops for they are a day of rest in this predominately Christian nation.
Yoan’s stories made the time pass quickly, and all too soon we pulled into the surf of Nguna. The sun hung low in the sky as I jumped into the water and hauled my belongings up onto the beach. Local villagers were having a marvelous time swimming in the warm waters of the Coral Sea or watching the goings on from a shady perch under enormous trees growing up through the sand.
Yoan lead me down the main road of Nguna, a hard packed dirt track lined with tidy huts, vibrant flowers, and verdant bush, and within a few minutes we arrived at my new home for the night: Vat-Vaka Bungalows.
I’ll tell you all about that next time. 🙂
by Krista | Mar 1, 2012 | Fabulous Friday
Living in several different countries makes for a rather topsy-turvy life where visas are concerned. This month is a particularly madcap one as two visa requirements for two different countries came up at the same time.
This weekend I fly to islands of Vanuatu (formerly known as the New Hebrides) for a 24 hour stay since the Australian Government needs me out of the country for a few minutes. I could’ve gone anywhere, so long as it was out of Australia, so I went online, found the cheapest ticket going anywhere, and Vanuatu was the place.
I am so excited about visiting this collection of islands, even if it is only for 24 hours. I remember reading about the New Hebrides when I was little, never in my wildest imaginings thinking that one day I would actually see these beautiful places.
I will be staying on Nguna Island, a short boat ride from the main town of Port Vila. I have no idea what I will be doing there, but I’m very excited about my little seaside bungalow, a place that requires the use of lanterns at night because there is no electricity. 🙂 It also includes home cooked meals by the owners, so I’ll get to find out what island food is like. I plan to make the most of my 24 hours there, and, if I can figure out how to use Bear’s camera, I will take heaps of pictures to share with you.
Ten days after I get back I hop on another plane to fly to Canada and then down to the United States to meet the requirements of my American visa.
Phew!
I’m tired just thinking about it, but so happy to know I’ll get to see dear folks, eat copious amounts of Mexican food, and experience a bit of winter whilst visiting some of my favorite haunts around Washington and British Columbia.
So it’s looking to be a wild ride this month, but it will be a good one. 🙂
How about you, dear one? What is your March looking like?
PS – You can view this month’s Rambling Tart Newsletter by clicking here.
