SAN FRANCISCO

PENULTIMATE DAY

Lots of pottering today, in fact, far too much of it, which lead to me not actually doing and seeing as much as I wanted. There were two key reasons for this; doughnuts and dim sum. Just a couple of silly things that I really wanted to eat in America. Obviously, Dim Sum is Chinese but I missed the chance to eat them in Hong Kong, for some reason. And it happened again. As I've mentioned before, there is a large China Town in San Fran and its Dim Sum is reknowned for being as good as in Hong Kong. But every restaurant had menus in Chinese only, so I didn't bother, wasting a good hour wandering around. Even more exasperating than this was my inability to find a coffee shop that also sold doughnuts. These shops are EVERYWHERE in San Fran, the difficulty would be finding a street that HASN'T got a coffee shop. But they were all either Starbucks alikes (can't stand the place), didn't have doughnuts or were ridiculously over-priced for the coffee. Well, I traipsed round the centre for over an hour and couldn't find anything suitable. All I wanted to do was sit in the excellent Union Square (a plaza right in the midst of the hussle and bussle) drink my coffee (actually, I dont drink coffee but hot chocolate and doughnut doesn't have the same ring), eat my doughnut and watch the world go by. Well, by 5 o'clock the sun was setting and the temperature was dropping so I headed for a road in China Town where I knew of a place I'd seen earlier with 'DONUT' ridiculously mispelt in the way Americans are want to do. Surely you'd also have to re-spell the word 'dough' aswell, for it to make any sense? Well, they don't! How is it possble to spell 'dough' and 'donut' in two completely dirfferent ways?! Anyway, this coffee house was cheap, the hot choc was extra hot and sweet and the 'donut' was the best I've ever had - think Krispy Kreme but twice as big. I was satisfied at last. The rest of the day had been spent just photographing interesting things. There are so many in San Fran that I had to keep deleting my least favourite pics to squeeze more in. Quite frustrating. I began the day by going to Fisherman's Wharf, where I visited the famous Pier 39. Its a real tourist trap, pretty tacky but I only went for one thing; the sea lion colony. Yes, a colony of sea lions has made the end of the pier their home for about fifteen years. It's great fun watching them. There are about fifty at a guess and they spend all their time either asleep, clambering over each other and squabbling for the best sunbathing position, and making hilariously loud snorting and honking noises, almost non-stop. At one point, there was silence for ten seconds, then one started up again and the cacophony continued as before.

I spent the rest of the day wandering around the main central area taking pics. I really need a few more days here to see everything the city has to offer. It has a mixture of grand old buildings and spectacular modern ones, and everything seems to fit together perfectly. Even the banks and financial buildings look good. There are all sorts of great stalls everywhere; flowers, shoe shine, hot dog, coffee. You can get almost anything you want and fast - and 'to go'. Because of the roller-coaster roads and steep hills, you get a good view from almost anywhere in the city centre (sorry, 'downtown') area. Plus, every evening, there has been a beautiful orange and then light-pink sunset, before the lights come on and everything looks amazing again. I feel really comfortable here now and it's probably the most interesting city I've seen on my whole travels. Wellington was also fascinating, as was Luang Prabang (though that was a town really, not a city) and also Hong Kong, (though its most interesting parts were on the islands). San Fran just pips them, for me. It has a strong sense of identity, everywhere you turn there are little (and enormous) things of interest to see, it's truly cosmopolitan and for a US city, it has a relaxed vibe. Oh, and its surprisingly clean too.

Tomorrow, I head out early afternoon for the long flight home. I hope to do the famous cable car ride and maybe sit in the Golden Gate park for a bit before I leave. The USA has been much more than I'd hoped for, tipping aside. I mean, they already do the annoying thing of adding on tax to the prices shown, meaning your meal ends up costing you more than you expected. Add to that a 15% tip which is expected and you're well out of pocket. Not that I actually DID tip anyone - wait till they aren't looking and bolt for the door, thats MY tip. And get this; I actually think Americans are, maybe, ok. Sort of. Well, you can't generalise with a nation of 250 million people but the ones I've met have been fine. They still have annoying accents though.

That's it from me then. Its all over. I've made it but only just, limping over the finish line; trousers stitched up, grip worn down to a smooth slate on my trainers, t-shirts' colour washed out, no more battery life on my camera, ten dollars to my name, half a stone lost in weight, soles of my feet ruined, knots and aches all over, only one contact lens in and a cold coming on! I will be writing up my travels in New Zealand, which I've only briefly touched upon, in full over the coming weeks, for anyone who's interested i.e. me. I'm all tired and emotional now, knowing I have to knuckle down and get my life into gear back home for the next couple of years at least. Still, I feel priviliged to have had this chance to travel (though I wouldn't have been able to do as much I'd planned if it hadn't been for my Mum and Dad - thank you so much!). South America next!!

SAN FRANCISCO

One of the strange things about America is, after thirty years of TV shows regularly beamed onto our screens, it feels as though you already know the place. This lends a strange familiarity to things, and makes you want to do or take photos of, things you wouldn't do anywhere else in the world. It's as if you are suddenly inside the TV, experiencing things you only ever saw annoying Americans experiencing. Most of these things are fast food outlets; Dunkin Donuts (ok, they have them in New Zealand too but they are a US company), Wendy's, Taco Bell, 7 Eleven (again, they are all over SE Asia but it's different when seen in it's homeland). Instantly recognisable even though I'd never been to any of them before. Then there's Hershey bars, Twinkies, Dime and Nickel coins, the LAPD, hot dog stands, Pizza pies. Even asking to go to, for example, '4th Street and Broadway', or for something 'to go' all seems so surreal. There is a strange glee associated with seeing, buying or saying any of these things. As I say, fast food is a key part of US culture. In Britian we have MacDonalds, Burger King, Pizza Hut and KFC - the big, omnipotent four. In America, you can add to that Carls Jnr, Jack in the Box, Wendy's, Taco Bell, Green Burrito, In N Out Burger, MOS Burger - and thats just burgers and Mexican food. It's no wonder they are all so fat. On my way to San Francisco, I saw most of these at almost every gas station along the way. To be honest, there wasn't a lot else to see but flat arid land, on a straight highway for pretty much all of the six hour journey. Some of the hills looked like sand dunes, they were so smooth and caramel coloured in the distance and there were the odd fields of short, pistachio trees to break up the monotony. The driver, a Japanese-American who has been running this alternative mini bus service to the national Greyhound service (which, as I mentioned is regarded as dodgy and takes several hours longer), pointed out to me and my seven accompanying travellers the cows living in heaven on the left. We saw a couple of cows grazing on empty hillsides and probably felt slightly uncomfortable putting our lives in the hands of a slightly strange man. A few seconds later, we were introduced to the cows in hell and it all became clear. I've never seen so much bovine in my life - thousands of cows literally squashed in together, with very little room for a good distance. 'Welcome to typical American capitalism', he added. They need it to help keep those burger chains going.

As I mentioned before, San Francisco holds a much greater interest to me than LA. When I arrived the sun was setting over the city and it looked much more of a large city than LA (it has a much more impressive skyline of tall scrapers), surprising as San Francisco only has a population of 800,000, compared to almost four million in LA. It's even colder in San Fran than LA and my first night in the Green Tortoise Hostel was spent mostly trying to adjust my blanket to keep warm. This however, is the only downside about the Green Tortoise - possibly the best hostel I've stayed at. There are three reasons for this; free internet 24 hours a day (only one hostel has ever offered free internet on my travels and that was only from 1pm - 9pm), they didn't charge me for the night I booked and couldn't make because of the bus break-down, and they have free breakfast every morning and free evening meals three times a week! I've come across the odd place that gives free breakfast but a meal? Unprecedented!! And, in keeping with US portions, they are both huge! Just help yourself to as many bagels, orange slices and tea or coffee as you like, with a choice of 5 toppings! My first evening meal was as much pasta and pesto as you can eat, with french bread and salad plus 2 dressings - unbelievable! After two weeks living off Spam (which is admittedly damn nice if you fry it), corned beef (ditto), weetabix and chicken noodles in Rarotonga (restaurants were too far away and all food is imported from New Zealand so is expensive to buy), this was like a dream come true. I'm so cash strapped that I've budgeted my stay right down to the last cent, and I should make it home with literally pennies to spare, as long as I only spend money on cheap food and transport. Add this food together with the huge servings you get in almost every eatery in San Francisco and I'll soon be buckling up those notches on the belt again. Today, I ate a pastrami sandwich in a tiny deli that was crammed full of layers of meat, cheese, mayonnaise and salad. The choices were bewildering, as they always are in the States. The extremely friendly proprietor rolled off about six types of cheese I could choose from. I told her to go for whatever she thought best! But it was one of the most satisfying sandwiches I've ever had, much more filling than anything you get back home and twice as tasty. People were coming into this shoe box sized deli and ordering food with such detail, from the way it is toasted, to the type of bread, cheese, different salad toppings, salt, pepper and condiments. In England, salad is limp lettuce and dry tomato, a bit of soggy cucumber if you're lucky and it'll be cold, small and over-priced. You might get mayo on it. Things are changing of course, especially in London but we are still way behind the US for variety, service and value. I sat happily in the shoe box, munching away and reading the local paper, thinking all was right with the city and the world, when I noticed the front page headline proclaiming that fourteen people had been murdered in San Francisco, THIS YEAR. That's almost one person every day, in a city roughly the same population as Manchester. Vagrants aside (as in LA they are everywhere though they never hassle people much from what I've seen) I feel quite safe here after my initial misgivings, which were probably shaped by TV more than anything. San Francisco downtown thrives in the evening, with restaurants and coffee houses rammed even on weekday evenings. The US no longer worries me, though that front page is a sad inditement of what does happen in this country.

In the evening I ordered a cheese-steak burger (I chose to have a chicken steak, crispy on the outside, Californian version which included pickles, lettuce, tomato and mayo) and I chose the pepper cheese from the list of six cheeses. It was bursting at the seams and together with small fries and medium soda (would be medium and large in the UK) I gorged myself until I was rotund. I've said it before and I'll say it again; its no wonder they are all fat. And this sandwich was supposed to be a healthier version of the standard stuff pumped out by the burger chains. In actual fact, I've not spotted that many over-weight people here. There were more people jogging, cycling and roller-blading at Venice beach than I've ever seen anywhere in Britain. There was also a fantastic sport which I'd never seen before being played by mixed teams, competitively, on the sand. It was basically netball with a frisbee but far more acrobatic and with points scored as with a touchdown in American football. Californians are known for being health freaks, to the point of banality. I had a hot dog which was made from grass fed beef yesterday. I thought that's what all cows ate??!! Mind you, there wasn't much grass, if any, in cow hell. I prefer the full fat, unhealthy (and wallett friendly) Frankfurters myself. Still, its good to actually have the choice.

San Francisco has more eateries than I've ever seen anywhere in my life. Even London (despite being far larger in size) can't compete with the quantity and variety of good quality cafes, restaurants and stalls that this city crams into its relatively small confines. You are spoilt for choice and I couldn't decide where to stop and eat; Chinatown (which has food which is said to rival that of Hong Kong), Little Italy (with it's plethora of little coffee houses and pizzarias) or at one of the many sushi joints, Mexican take outs, delis, bakeries and of course, burger places. Then you see the menus and become even more confused - astonishing variations are available.

Anyway, that's enough about food - San Fran has much more to offer. The first thing I did was go out to the Golden Gate bridge. As expected, its a big bridge. Some would say, a massive bridge. It is spectacular, it has to be said, with its striking orange colour and curvy design. It took me about half an hour to walk across and the views are amazing - you can see downtown San Fran, with its skyscrapers and the island housing Alcatraz prison just next to it in the distance. I had planned it as the perfect end to a long hard slog of travelling (seven months in total, if you include two months in Ibiza), looking out wearily over the Pacific as the sun set over the bridge. Actually, it was so cold I couldn't be bothered to wait for sunset and headed home just before, though did get to see a wonderful pink skyline over Alcatraz and the CBD.

Apart from that, all I've done is walk around the areas of downtown San Fran. Potter, is probably a better word to describe what I did. There's nothing like just pottering around a new place, going knowhere in particular, at your opwn pace, knowing you don't have to be anywhere for a couple of days or do anything of any importance except find a place to eat. With the sun shining non-stop every day, it was a pleasure just pottering around, hands in pockets (trying hard not to look like a bum eyeing up the parked cars), whipping the camera out every thirty seconds. There's so much to photograph here. You have the Art Deco stylings of Little Italy, with its characterful coffee shops and outdoor seating, the narrow, bustling streets of Chinatown, the stroll around the harbour with its thousands of boats, the walks up and down the roller-coaster streets around Russian Hill (including a road so steep, the cars have to drive down it in zig-zag fashion, left to right and park horizontally) with views right over to Alcatraz and Golden Gate, Pacific Heights with it's wide pavements, beautiful landscaping and fabulously rich houses, a couple of nice inner city parks and a CBD which screams 'big US city', full of towering, important looking buildings. All of this is interspersed with character all of its own gained from early 20th century history; the old cable cars, the buses which still run along electric wires, yellow trams, Beatnik and hippy revolution history (which were centred here) - all of which mean that San Francisco doesn't fall into the trap which has befallen other US cities, which often haven't retained any sense of history or character. Even the fire engines look cool. Then of course there's Alcatraz but I won't be able to visit the most famous ex-prison in the world as it costs money. Oh well, doesn't matter, I actually STAYED in a converted (and I use the term very lightly) old prison in Napier, New Zealand! My final day tomorrow will involve more pottering no doubt. San Francisco is the perfect place to do this. Only a city this good could get me to drag my weary, knotted, under-nourished, aching, sunburnt (in places!) and now freezing body out of bed in the morning! From 30 degrees to almost 0 in the space of one day is a very tough transition.

LOS ANGELES

There's nothing like arriving in a country as huge as the United States to make you feel slightly scared and out of place. As my plane swept low over the last of the Pacific Ocean, into view came Los Angeles, one of the world's most famous cities, its beaches stretching along for miles, glinting in the midday sun. The pilot took us over a wealthy neighbourhood. I knew this, even from our lofty position, because I've never seen so many swimming pools in my life. They just lay there, glinting little globules of blue right next to every other house and there were literally hundreds of them. If that was enough to make me nervous, I still had the search to go through at customs. After being pulled over at Auckland airport and asked numerous personal questions pertaining to my job, ambitions and recreational drug habits before a thorough search of the entire contents of my backpack, I was expecting the same if not worse from the States. However, it never happened and I was never even looked at with much suspicion - so much for the tough new US customs. The bus ride to my hostel made me feel even more like a little English nobody. First I was stopped by a guy who thought I sounded like Ali G (as, apparently, all British people of Indian descent do). He was black too, he should have known better. When I corrected him, he still had the nerve to ask me for a donation for his charity. Then, the bus driver spoke to me in a tone of voice which suggested he had a million and one backpackers who didn't how to use the paying machine get on his bus and could no longer be bothered with friendliness or politeness.People around me were speaking in a no-nonsense, quick-firing manner, often quite loudly and this is something that I'm not used to back home.Everything is bigger too; the roads, houses, cars, pavements. There were also more vagrants and strange people talking out loud to themselves than I've ever seen in London. All put together, it was quite unnerving. I have to admit, I wasn't overly-keen on visiting the States. Its never really appealed to me much. Canada has always held a much greater appeal as has South and Central America. And for a country so rich, the USA is not well set up for backpackers, certainly not anywhere near as user-friendly as New Zealand or Australia. For starters, there's no real specialised, comprehensive bus tours like Magic, which I used in New Zealand, or a nice, clean, efficient national bus service. The national rail and coach networks are reknowned for being poor, run down and also fairly dodgy (they tend to be used by poorer sections of society only, as everyone else has a car or flies between cities).Its also much more expensive to backpack through than than other developed nations, such as New Zealand. Then there's also the question of high crime levels and the reality of being a black person travelling in a place that still has deep rooted racial divisions. Oh, and of course, the fact I can't stand Americans.

However, I often feel a bit off-kilter when I arrive somewhere new. Adjusting to the pace and way of life, the culture, customs and people can often take a few days. One thing I will say for Americans though, is that when you do meet one, they are almost always friendly. In fact, I'd go as far to say that they are the friendliest nation of all the different nationalities I've met on my travels. It seems to be a confidence thing. Americans just aren't afraid to come right on over to you and say hello, immediately launching into conversation. Most Americans I've met just love to talk (and in the case of some I met in Fiji, rather too much), particularly in giving their opinions on almost everything.This can be great on the one hand because its like you've made an instant friend, who will buy you a beer and ask you to join them in activities and make you feel at home. It can also be exceedingly irritating if you just want to be left alone for a bit. On the whole though, its's a good thing, one of their better traits for sure.And on their own turf, they are no less welcoming. One weary bus driver aside, without exception, every single American I've met has been at worst helpful, at best, lovely. Whether it be a girl in a coffee shop asking if I'm from 'out of town' or some teenagers shouting hello from a roof-top high above, to a bus driver letting me ride for free when my dollar wouldn't go through the machine,a man walking a dog saying 'hey', a hot dog seller letting me off with a few cents (which I actually did have!), a bus driver shouting over a parking lot to ask if I needed help, the man who thought I sounded like Ali G gaiving me detailed instructions of how to get to my hostel (I did end up giving him some shrapnel - for a good cause) and a woman telling me to look up to see where the hell those people were who were shouting hello! I've also seen a woman over-hear my conversation with a thirsty traveller and tell him where the nearest water fountain was and saw at least 2 people give directions to a woman who didn't know where to get off the bus for her hostel (the same as mine, as it happens) - now would all this happen in Britain? I doubt it. Not without you actually making contact first, anyway.

I'm staying in the Santa Monica area of LA, which is a nice area next to Venice beach and the famous 'Muscle beach'. Despite being very sunny, its also very cold here, unseasonally so. Global warming is really taking a hold over here, with the east coast of America having a very warm winter and the west coast and mid America averaging much lower temperatures than usual. LA is pretty much warm all year round usually. As a consequence, muscle beach was dead, though it did allow me to do a few exercises on the many apparatus without feeling stupid. I took a trip to Hollywood the following day. It wasn't on my agenda initially because I had intended to go straight to San Francisco. LA, despite being a city of almost 4 million, doesn't hold a great deal of interest unless you are a massive movie buff. I'm not. In fact,its famed for lacking in any real history. There really isn't a great deal to see. The city is so spread out that the 'downtown' area (city centre) is not a big draw, as the suburbs, such as Santa Monica, have everything they need there - movie theatres, shopping centres, restaurants etc. Everyone I'd met who had been to this part of the world, said they didn't stay long, moving straight on to San Francisco or the other way, south to San Diego. San Francisco, though with a much smaller population, has much more to offer a traveller, with its unique early 20th century charm, strong muical,hippy and artistic history, trams, Golden Gate bridge, Little Italy, Chinatown, steep streets and compact, easy to get around area. All LA has is a few pretentious beaches, Hollywood and notorious inner city crime (Compton, Inglewood etc). Anyway, my ride outta there had broken down, meaning an extra day in LA LA land - an apt name after a trip to Hollywood Boulevard. This is the street with the Hall of Fame stars on the pavement and it goes on for miles. You start off by reading each one, slowly trotting along the road, trying to see how many you recognise, starting with Elvis, The Beatles..............but it soon becomes a chore of mind-numbing proportions and I didn't recognise half the names anyway. Halway down the boulevard, everything suddenly descends into chaos. This was tacky consumerism at its worst (crappy,slogganed t-shirts, hats and souvenirs by the bucket-load) with the epicentre the gigantic Kodak Theatre, with its huge columns of elephants standing on pillars and wall of Egyptian hyroglyphics stretching high into the sky. From here, you can see the Hollywood sign perched on the hills in the distance but unfortunately, its too far away to get on camera, unless you are an annoying, fat American with a telephoto lens. Below, at the front of the Kodak, is a verritable feast of people watching - where else would you find Darth Vader, Wonder woman, Sponge Bob Squarepants, Elmo, Charlie Chaplin , Marilyn Monroe, endless hawkers, A Cat woman alike, acrobatic street performers and a woman giving away free hugs?! Knowhere, thats where!

Street performers in general seem pretty big in LA. Both nights I saw people doing routines (mixtures of dancing, acrobatics and comedy) to circles of enthralled people, shivvering away in the freezing cold night. American (suburban) downtown areas are a hive of activity in the evening, even on weekdays, unlike in England. There is one undeniably wonderful aspect of America which almost anywhere else in the world is just not possible. i saw this perfectly evidenced in Santa Monica on a cold January night as a circle of people watched 3 guys jumping over and under and on top of each other in increasingly spectacular manner; it is fantastically cosmopolitan. Black, white, Asian, Latin American, races from all corners of the planet and all age groups were evidenced, laughing uniformly. I have to say, it fairly warmed my heart, even though my hands were ready for amputation (I don't have a coat, too big for travelling). Obviously, this doesn't happen everywhere in the States (and it should be noted that LA has sharp racial segregation, with West inc Santa Monica, overwhelmingly white and east mostly Latin, with a smaller black community to the south) but at least it is possible and I'm glad the bus was a no-show and I was able to stay an extra day in LA.

Happy New Year!! Sorry I've not been able to call as its extortionate to phone home from my current location, Rarotonga. The internet is down at my current hostel so not been able to email until now (internet is also extortionate here!).

I am now officially into my 30's (sob!), having spent my birthday yesterday with a few guys who are staying at my resort - a Danish guy, 2 Canadian girls and an English couple. Had a great day spent doing a 7 hour trek across the island from one side to the other, through the most interesting, challenging and fun terrain I've encountered on my travels. The trekking path is largely covered with inter-twining branches, jutting tree roots and thick foliage, making it hard work to get through this large area of rain-forest. When I was a kid I used to pretend I was lost in huge forests and had to cut my way through them, struggling up steep banks and across small, rocky rivers. Yesterday, I felt like a 7 year old again and it was great fun, though very tiring. Afterwards, I was cooked a fantastic barbeque by the girls which was a great end to the day.

New Years Eve was spent at another barbeque, this time on the beach with a few people from the resort at a party thrown by friends of the resort owners. It was certainly different, singing Auld Lang Syne with sand under your feet before running (misguidedly) into the Pacific ocean, then messing about in the resort pool till 3am!

Rarotonga itself is quite different from Fiji. It is the largest of the 15 Cook Islands, 3 hours flying time east of Fiji, with a tiny population of 9,000, which is over half the entire population of the whole Cook Islands. The whole island can be ridden round in under an hour. Its a beautiful place, with white sands surrounded by a clear lagoon for almost the entire circumfrance. Its a also a relatively prosperous island, certainly compared to Fiji. The people are Polynesian (same as Tonga and Samoa), as opposed to Fijians who belong to the Melanesian group of Pacific islands (inc. Papua New Guinea), so they look quite different. Fijians look much more similar to Africans, whilst Cook Islanders are closely related to the New Zealand Moari's. All speak with a New Zealand accent, no real hint of any Pacific island-lilt, which surprised me. Being a former colony of New Zealand means that they still have strong ties with that country, with the currency the same and many of the population nowadays up and leave to live in New Zealand after school.

Some of the other islands, particularly Aitutaki, offer the sort of secluded paradise that you see in glossy travel brochures. Rarotonga isn't quite that amazing but its still a great place for a beach holiday. Unfortunately, I've hardly seen any of the beach as I've been stuck up in a hillside resort. The walk to the beach is about 10 minutes, but the heat here is so oppressive that it feels like half an hour. Couple that with the depressing sight of dogs everywhere (even venturing onto the sand itself) and you can understand why I've spent most of my time here lounging around the pool at my resort. Still, its been nice to just sit, do nothing and recover from my jaunts through New Zealand and Fiji. I still have a week left here and to be honest, I'm a little bored (though a few games of Ludo have helped pass the time - who'dve thought it could be so competitive!!) but I couldn't get a flight out any earlier - all booked up.

Hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year, I will write more when I arrive in America on Jan 12th. Until then........

Happy Christmas!! Actually, it's boxing day here now, as we are 12 hous ahead. Sorry I couldn't call anyone as my phone card just doesn't seem to work here in Fiji and I ca't buy a local one because they don't sell them at the resort and its a long boat ride to the nearest town.

Anyway, I had a Christmas which couldn't have been more different from what I'm used to. Arrived in Fiji on 22nd. It's very quiet here, absolutely no way you'd ever think coup had taken place. I flew into Nadi, the second largest city, and styaed one nght in a dorm at a resort there, by not very attrative beach. Most people either use Nadi (curiously pronounced as 'Nandi') as a base and go island hopping to the dozens of small islands to the west of the main-land or they just by-pass it altogether and stay out on islands. They are split into 2 groups: the Yawasawa and Mamanuca islands. They all offer different things, some geared more towards diving, others towards partying, some offer greater seclusion and one or two give you a more 'authentic' Fijian tribal / rural experience. I didn't choose any of these islands!!

What has surprised me about Fiji is just how much larger it is than I expected. This can be said of almost every place I've travelled to. With Fiji, I expected it to be two or three islands with a few resorts on each. When I read about the Yawasawa and Mamanucas I was surprised at the number of options available to tourists. Then I looked on local maps and saw several more islands scattered to the east and north of the main island (Viti Levu), including the second largest island, which no-one ever seems to talk about here! Apparently it's very nice but obviously off the toursit radar to a large extent. It really makes you realise just how big this planet is and how much of it there is still to see. I saw a great quote in New Zealand the other week, which sums it up perfectly:

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page"

Its a little bit pompous but essentially, its true. Anyway, I'd read o the internet about a Fijian island known as Nananu I Ra, which was supposed o be reall secluded, awa from the 18 yer old revellers an geat spot for weary travellers to re-couperate. Well, afer NZ, I'm feeling particlarly weary following 7 am wake ups most days and 6 hour coach journeys followed usually by treks up hills, mountains and through forests, so when I saw this tiny island, barely visible of the northern coast of Viti Levu (the mainland) I shunned the wetern islands and made for this one. It oly ha three resorts and I went for the cheapest of the lot, a bargain at about 7 pounds per night in a dorm, with 2 free nights because I'm staying for 5 nights, free kayaking and a dive comany on site, givng cheap access to snorkelling. It was a 3 hour drive though the Fijian countryside, to the closest port, which revealed a very attractive, green, hilly landscape and lots of little villages, most of which seemed to be populated by Indians who had settled in Fiji (there is large minority here). No matter here you go, there always seems to be Indian settlers! Passing into the port town of Raki Raki, there were more indigenous Fijians and the town reminded me of scenes I'd seen on TV of bussling African or West Indian areas.

From here, my unfeasibly hot mini bus (oh, how I've missed the dusty, bumpy roads of the third / second world - no, really!), carrying an unfeasibly loud, annoying American, a Welsh divin instuctor, a Fijian family who were now settled in New Zealand and a self-confessed computer geek from London, disembarked for th short boat ride to Nananu I Ra. The difference to Nadi was startling. The water is the clearest I've ever seen in my life. You can see the coral and various aquatic life-forms without even going under water. Pockets of turquoise cloured water are surrounded by deeper shades of blue and it looks beautiful. However, its not until you take the 20 minute walk over to the other side of the island that you se the best of the 5 beaches; a totally secluded, uninhabited beach, at the edge of a dense forest. Its half mile strip of beach is quite narrow but the ater is very calm, sheltered form the strong winds and the hills tower over the whole stretch which curves inwards at both ends. I wnt over on Christmas Eve and there were no more than 20 people on the whole beach all day. I spent a hour kayaking over to the same spot on Chrismas Day and there was not one single person there ALL day! This is what I came to Fiji in the hope of finding; an totally secluded beach with spectacular views clear water and a backdrop of pure nature - no beach huts, no piers, resorts, just trees, hills and more trees. I knew that places like this existed but I always thought that many other people would also be looking for the same place, thus extinguishging any hope of it actually being secluded. Most of the travellers an tourists where I'm staying don't seem to bother coming over to the beach (the one at the resort is great but its not what you'd describe as a tropical paradise). Then agan, the resort is probably only at a third of its occupancy. The coup has defninitely had an impact. There are less than 40 people here, half of which are families with Fijian ties of some sort, the rest being backpackers, (most of whom are from the UK), apart from a relentlessly happy American family.

Anyway, I spent about 3 hours just listening music and soaking up the sun or just listening to the sound of silence (bar nature's soundtrack) before paddling back in time to see the glorious sunset from kayak-level - a memorable experience. I spotted everyone from the resort at the top of a hill watching the sunset - apprently they were all cheering me on (it was tough work against the current) but I couldn't hear them. And that was my Christmas day! Oh, well, I did manage to put the most foul thing ever to pass my lip nto my mouth at Christmas dinner - a tiny peice of red chilli which exploded like Krakatoa on my tongue and sent me racing to my water supply in my dorm, where it took a full 20 mins to extinguish the horrifying heat which burnt off my tastebuds. Thanks very much to internet geek Tony for proclaiming the red chillis to be ' a little hot' when in actual fact, what I felt was akin branding my tongue wih white-hot chilly shaped poker and attempting to cool it down with a flaggon of lava. By the time I returned, everyone had taken all he best bit from the enormous spread laid out by the staff, although as far as I was concerned, that only included the delicious lamb shank. The rest was dissappointng (at least three of the Fijian vegetables on offer tasted of dry tree root) and left me craving my Mum's roast dinner - and where was dessert???? I collapsed into bed shortly after that, only to be awaken in the middle of the night by the family of Fijians from New Zealand, who were drinking till the early hours and then their two toddler sons who (despite being extemely cute) have annoyed the hell out of me so far - crying at night and up running about at 7 every morning. A private room would've been better.

Well, its boxing day today. I might go for another snorkel. The first one was one of the most amazing things I've ever done - can't believe I've never tried it before. The fish are amazing here and you only have to go a couple of metres into the water to see an amazing variety of stunningly couloured tropical fish, whih you can im right up before they eventually decide you ARE trying to touch them and dash off quickly! Not seen a shark or ray yet but other have. Many people go out diving during the morning but its too expensive for me. I may just go back to the secluded beach for a read but if I walk over (kayaking is out as my arms will testify this morning) it means a possible run in with the wild horses. Yes, there are horses just roaming around on the island. On my return from paradise beach, I had to follow the path through the forest and up a hill to the open countryside. At the top of the hill I saw 4 horses, who all stopped, as did I, at the bottom. Not knowin what to do, I decided o get my camera out fo a shot. As I flicked through my over-loaded memory card to delete a photo, I glanced up momentarily to see them galloping down the hill! I'v never scamered so fast (I was wearing flip-flops) in my life! I raced back onto the beach and headed for the rocks, where from a saf vantag point, I saw the horses galloping onto the beach and neighing loudly. It was very scary but no as scary as what hapenned next! I searched for an alternative route, which meant either going round the whole island, following the coast (about an hour to walk) or traverse the hill side without the use of a path. Knowing I had 20 mins to make it back to the resort in time for lunch (even though all they sell is toasted sandwiches but if you miss the 2 hour window, you end up starving till 7pm) I opted for option A. Climbing a steep hill in flip flops is not reccommended. Half an hour of slipping an scrabbling got me half way up but I was struggling to get decent footholds and big, sturdy loking rocks were being uprooted and careering down o the bottom in muc the same way it looked like I would be if I didn't make my way back down. At one point, I was gribbing onto a tree root one handed, my whole body outstretched down the hill side, like in some lame movie, where someon eventually comes and grabs the free hand and pulls them to safety. Well, this was reality and the reality was, no-one was within half a mile of me and they wouldn't have seen me anyway cos I was in a forest. Its amazing what reserves of strength you can find within you in difficult moments. Much as in the boat incident in Loas, I was able to summon energy I thought had gone to drag my whole body up with one arm and to the side till I found a way down which involved letting go and sliding like a mini-avalanche down to a stable looking tree root or rock, which would block my fall. I did this all the ay down an then, looking and feeling like I'd just spent 30 days trying to find my way out the jungle, descended onto the bech and wearly walked the hour long coastal pathway back, stopping only to say hello to some bemused holidaying Fijians who shouted down to me.

It couldn't get worse you'd think; wrong. I issed lunch by half an hour but was offered some crisps and Oreos to compensate. I was ready to collapse into a deep sleep but first, settled down to eat the Oreos, which I began to mercilesly devour. Till I realised they had nuts in them. Since when did Oreos bring out a peanut flavour biscuit????!! I'd hd 2 befoe I realised and by then, my thoat was closing up and my lips sore and irritable. I gulped back tons of water an brushed my teeth furiously until I felt better but it was the wort I've ever felt after a brush with nuts as usually I can smell them before I've even started to taste anything which may consist of them. When I went down to tell the staff, they were surprised to and they brought me the remaining 5 packets - all of which were the standard Oreo flavour. What are the chances...............

New Zealand Update - Currently in Napier, first own in the world to get the sun each day! Back in the North Island, now only have 4 days left, 3 of them to be spent at Mount Maunganui before ending up back in Auckland. Then I fly to Fiji in time for Xmas. Despite the problems there, the people I spoke to at Air NZ said all their flights are still full, plus, to re-route is too expensive and they are making no special dispensations for those wishing to change their travel plans. I don't fly to the capital, Suva, I fly to Nadi on the other side of the main island and then go onto one of the many islands west of there, so I sould be away from any trouble if it occurs.

What else have I done? I found possible my faveourite place in the world so far, a litle town called Wanaka in the south island. Its the most picturesque place I've ever visited, with a beautiful large lake surrounded by pine forests, huge mountains, snow capped peaks and hoardes of flowers. I could've stayed there for weeks, it was so peaceful in places. I also went to the cinema their, a unique one in that it replaced the usual seats with battered old comfy couches, armchairs and a yellow morris minor! I went straight for the car, being the first one in, though I changed over at the interval (where we were served home made ice cream made from real tropical fruit and huge fresh cookies) and lay full stretch on a couch.

After Wanaka, went on to Queenstown, adventure capital of the world, though not for me as I'm skint! Saw Milford Sound on a daytrip, then on to Dunedin (or 'Edinburgh of the South') a city which has a Scottish feel to it. Then on to Lake Tekapo, a tiny village by a huge lake and the most photographed church in the world sitting on its shore. Passed by the most amazing lake I've ever seen on the way, the magnificent Lake Haewa, I think the second largest in NZ. What makes it so special is that it is so calm and still, surrounded on either side by nothing but huge mountains, no sign of human habitation, and just one road running down one side. Went on to see Moeraki boulders, a beach with several, perfectly rounded bits of large rock, formed by the ocean. Then on to Christchurch, largest south island city and reminiscant of an old fashioned, pretty English town that you might find down south. Here, most people on the Magic bus (which allows you to hop on and off at any destination on the route and spend as many nights as you like in a place) ended their journey, so I said goodbye to the last remaining people who'd kept cropping up along the route. There were only 10 of us on my bus back to the north island, stopping off at Kaikora before the ferry to Wellington, where I spent the best part of a day in the brilliant national museum. Far more interesting than your usual fare, with lots of interesting activities to do and innovative ways of presenting info. Learnt loads about Moari culture and the way they are still battling to resolve issues surrounding a Treaty passed by the British back in 1840. Only 5 joined me on the bus from there to Napier.

Weather wise, NZ is the most interchangable place I've ever been to. Think British spring-time but even more unpredictable! It can be raining one minute and hot sunshine the next, gale force winds to follow that! Summer time is just starting here and the locals are all moaning at how bad the weather has been for this time of year. I've ben rather lucky in that I've escaped most of the bad weather. Almost every place I've turned up in, the weather has improved from the previous day, which has often been bad enough to cancel activities such as sky diving, helicopter rides and hikes.

More soon!