I spent more than six months camping and backpacking through Fiji, New Zealand, and the outback in Australia. Growing up, and as a young man I was enthralled with reptiles, amphibians, and insectoid like organisms of all kinds. Could you think of a better place to visit, other than the rain-forest? I remember my dad insisted that I check out this great new nature show about Australian wildlife. That great new show was early 'Crocodile Hunter' footage, which given my inclinations I became a huge fan of. Steve Irwin was a personal hero of mine and we happened to share a birthday, 2/22.
I needed a break from the college grind, just the grind in general, having just called it quits on a promising baseball career that had become nothing more than a high stress 40-50 hour a week job. Granted injuries were the primary reason but it felt good to step away from that pressure permanently. Australia seemed a likely destination, as it was somewhere I had always been drawn towards and enthralled with as a youth. Did I mention I was told by a well known psychic before i left that I would fall in love? So there's that.
I managed to book an airline ticket that allowed me a high amount of flexibility for a set price and bailed. I ended up on a beach in Fiji. Where the &*%# were my clothes? My luggage had gone on without me. Who needs clothes in Fiji though right? With a backpack full of essentials, and valuables on my person I strolled out of the airport. Oh, by the way it was hot! Muggy! Sweating like I had been on an alcohol bender the night before, I stumbled into Felix. Who is Felix, you ask? Felix, was the man! Felix singled me out, easily I might add, as a tourist who might need a helping hand. I explained the situation around my luggage and he told me he would take care of it. We got in his van, and he drove me through Suva, a tropical paradise of a city, to his hostel. Felix told me where to shop, what to try and avoid, procured various substances for patrons at the hostel and was generally agreeable. During my stay in Suva we took tours into the jungle, drank kava, smoked, drank Fiji Bitter the Sportsman's Beer, sat out on the various patios, and lollygagged. Oh, and just like Felix said, around the third day out my luggage arrived. Thank you Felix wherever you are!
I met a soft-spoken Ozzie bloke, and a beautiful blonde Canadian girl and we traveled in a crowded bus up the coast towards the town of Nadi. They had recently left Australia heading towards Canada and had chosen Fiji to decompress before heading on. We instantly hit it off as how I was on my way to where they had just been. Some friends had told them to check out Pastor Nikki's place on the coast of Fiji and they invited me to come along. No, I wasn't in love yet, but she was darling. The bus-driver knew where we were headed and dropped us close to what turned out to be a collection of maybe a dozen houses total that Pastor Nikki and his extended family lived in.
As we strolled up the drive some of the family members along with Pastor Nikki came to greet us. He was an absolute beast of a man in both height and girth, with a warm heart and a quick and ready smile. Of course we could stay, we were provided with simple lodging, which consisted of a well made plain wood house, and handmade floor mats. Doors weren't necessary and we had been prepared for less with camping gear and sleeping bags.
Happily we accepted with the one caveat being we had to head to the local market and purchase vegetables, fruits, and grains or bread. They would provide the meat. We ended up purchasing a crate of food at the local market for around $20 US. Fresh fruits and vegetables of every kind, it was a steal in my mind. All told we spent six days with his family. Eating like kings, laughing and talking about western culture, especially violence, which Nikki had a keen interest in. The ocean felt like bath water, we spent afternoon's on the beach, watched his son's and nephews spear fish for what turned out to be dinner, it was amazing.
My companions had a flight coming up so we made our way back through the countryside to Suva. Upon return to the Hostel and saying our hello's to Felix we were accosted by one of the most forward fellows I have ever met who proceeded to introduce himself and begin discussing the horrifying eye injury he had just suffered while playing rugby in a tournament in Fiji. Indeed it was rather distracting, he had taken an accidental thumb in the eye, it just didn't look right. Before I knew it he had thrust his address in Auckland into my hands and told me he expected to see me there and he had several groups of travelers that used his house as a base of operations. Could I really refuse the walleyed guy? At this point I was just letting the spirit of adventure dictate when and how I traveled. I made my preparations, stayed up way too late celebrating friendships, and woke to Felix shaking me out of a drunken stupor to get me to the airport, barely. That Felix.
Landing in Auckland, enthralled with my view of New Zealand so far, I took a taxi to the address Phil had given me. Knocking on the door I was greeted by one of the largest, meanest, and most face tatted Maori's you have ever seen. As the color drained from my face and I stuttered away as to why I was standing on his doorstep he started laughing and welcomed me in as another group of individuals chuckled inside. I was shown a private room, all the necessary amenities, and given the general rundown as to accepted behavior. The house was a hub of activity, travelers of all stripes coming and going. Anywhere from 5-10 people were staying at a time, with plenty of room for all. I quickly began getting into mischief with two gentlemanly Scots travelling together. Friends since boyhood, one had been a naval intelligence officer and the other was the son of a very prominent Scottish drummer. They quickly took me under their wing, took me to my first strip club (ever), had me puking my guts out before we left the house most nights, etc. Both of them were utter alcoholics, as I am sure they were aware, and the military-man purportedly held the record at there local pub for most shots downed in a single sitting. It was more than 40, I can't remember exactly how many. He came from a long line of heavy drinkers. I did manage to rent a car, and drive down the wrong side of the street in downtown Auckland. In my defense, it was after midnight, completely deserted, and it was a totally different experience initially driving on the other side of the road. Scared the crap out of those Scots though.
