‘Mother of all Festival’
7-Sep-2009
Now that’s truly ‘Mother of all Festivals’ - as thousands from all works of life and they came across the tiny islands that is safe guarding this island paradise to be part of a weeks of merry-making at the 2009 Vodafone Hibiscus Festival.
I managed two outings to the legendary Hibiscus Festival at Albert Park, having been watching in curiosity over the last fortnight as ferris wheel after ferris wheel was
erected in the park.
Never before have I seen so many in one place – it was quite a display!
They differ a lot from British ferris wheels in that they go a lot faster- hair raisingly so in fact.
In England, the ferris wheel is deemed to be the ‘tame’ ride, the one you can guarantee will go around slowly and you could put your grandma on.
Not so in Fiji - these ferris wheels were on steroids and had I have ventured on it would have given me heart failure.
On both Youth Night (Tuesday) and Fiji Night (Thursday), we also went into the main arena to enjoy the entertainment and were treated to a colourful display of music and dancing.
Especially on Fiji Night, we were entranced by warrior style dancing with fantastic costumes and music from the traditional villages; it was quite a tribal display and nothing like anything I have set eyes upon before.
We also caught a glimpse of the potential Hibiscus Queens and Kings walking by the arena.
As a British citizen, the concept of a beauty pageant is actually very foreign, as it is a custom derived from American culture which has barely filtered through, so I was intrigued to discover that it was a Fijian tradition at the Hibiscus Festival.
Having said that from what I have seen of the American Pageants, the differences are stark.
Pageants in America often feature pre-pubescent girls in swimming costumes and make up, an altogether disturbing sight; dubbed ‘Baby Beauty Queens’ or ‘Miss Pre Teen’.
It is a breeding ground for competitive mothers, jealousy and bad mouthing; even in some cases conspiracy plots being implemented to hinder other contestant’s chances of success.
Something that is supposed to be lighthearted and fun is taken very seriously, so it was nice to see the Fijian contestants smiling warmly as they performed and answered questions live on the television.
The winners seemed gracious and determined to do good things with their year in the post as queen or king and the atmosphere between contestants seemed amiable: nobody was taking it too seriously.
Next on the itinerary after a hard week of watching ferris wheels and eating rainbow popcorn was a trip to Levuka – the old capital of Fiji.
The town itself was very quaint, had a very historical feel, and it was nice to see some of Fiji’s roots here.
After we trotted past the oh-so-smelly tuna factory, we discovered the monument marking where Fiji was handed over to British rule, where Prince Charles stayed on a visit to the old capital, and the old post station, whereby mail was sent my pigeon post- allegedly the most efficient way to and from Levuka.
I thought this was somewhat fascinating and wondered if, had a pigeon been sent from England with my long overdue post it might have arrived sooner than the plane…
Then, from the sea front of Levuka to a boat bound for Caqalai Island: intrepidly we boarded the tiny fibre glass and I was filled with horror of recent tales of people throwing up for hours on end directly into the ocean in these small boats.
I don’t fare very well with sea sickness, however the worrying was for nothing; we had a relatively smooth ride across to the island, with only a few bumps and a splattering of
sea spray.
And some very magnificent views.
When we arrived at Caqalai it took me a few moments to realise that we had reached the destination.
I was thinking wow- this tiny island looks amazing, I hope Caqalai is as nice, and next thing you know the boat is on the edge of the shore and I’m jumping out into the shallow
water of the island’s edge.
It actually did take my breath away, being unlike anything I have seen before: the size of it -the dense greenery - the tiny seafront adorned with small boats bobbing in the breeze, and the dorm room within meters of the beach.
Shell covered sea life marched purposefully across the sand and I followed them toward a typically warm Fijian welcome.
I picked out one of the sea facing beds so that my window looked directly onto the tiny beach where palm trees stretched along the length of the island, propping up hammocks.
And this is where I was lulled to sleep for the next two nights: by brisk midnight blue waves lapping against a dark shore; stars bright like pin heads in an endless sky.
Within walking distance when the tide is out, is Snake Island.
We paddled out there with snorkeling gear treading amongst a carpet of hairy brown starfish and coral.
We also had the treat of sighting a giant royal blue starfish- sitting alone in the rock pools and he was pronounced prime photo opportunity of the day.
Some were lucky enough to spot a turtle, and others were unlucky enough to spot a sea snake.
It is a good job I didn’t as in all honesty I was scared of the starfish after one of them had wrapped its tentacle around my big toe and I screamed like a baby.
So, for me – Snake Island did not live up to its name.
Next on my Fiji agenda- truly facing the fear of the unknown, I am going to try a dive into the coral reef in search for Nemo, and hope that I do not meet any sharks along the way!
ALEX HALES |
