Our next hop was to Kuata island. Our transfer was wet, very wet, tropical downpour wet, to the point if you minus the fact that no one was actually trying to kill us as we approached the beach, our beach approach and landing at Kuata beach head was very similar to that of the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan. But like I said, without the killing and all. Island life is good but you do have to factor in the boat-ride element. It's fair to say that we got thoroughly soaked, as did sections of our backpacks, we might as well as swam from boat to the island!
We are now almost masters at the 'BULA' dance. This dance is really the 'macarana' under a Fijian smiley cloak. The dance is performed after dinner each night for all new arrivals to each island. If you stay consecutive nights then you still go through the whole welcome 'BULA' dance routine. The same can be said for the constant enthusiasm given to the way guests are welcomed and wished farewell or 'Isa Lei, Isa Lei' from the island. The latter being more like commiserations that your actually leaving. 'Isa Lei, Isa Lei' is just such a sad song.
Each island is home for a small community, the smaller the island the tighter, friendlier they become which you immediately become part of. These lands have no roads, no bottlo's, no panic just plenty of time. Fiji time.We did some hermit crab racing to pass the time. Fe's seemed to take Fiji time to the limit, he didn't seem to want to move! Our days are tough going at times....
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