- 2 boiled eggs
- oatmeal porridge with mango jam
- toast with peanut butter
- ceylon tea
We
tried have a quick breakfast, so that we wouldn't miss the “ten
o'clock bus”. The plan of the day was to visit the waterfalls in
Bouma National Heritage Park. We had no clock, but aunt Tila –
who supervised the campground
– told us it was nearly ten,
and we should get going. There are no designated bus stops on this
island, so we started walking in the direction of the waterfalls,
intending to catch the bus on the go. We walked for a kilometer, and
another; over hills, passing fences of expensive resorts, past the
airstrip of Matei (the main tourist hub on Taveuni), past this
sign, past emptylow-tide beaches, ceaselessly glancing over our shoulders. But
no bus came.
At
the end of the paved road, Maselesele village, we sat down to wait
and think, and to free ourselves of the snacks we carried. Just as
we'd eaten up the delicious mango yoghurt, the rain fell – hard.
Mikko had forgotten to bring his umbrella, so there we sat, on the
edge of a bridge over a narrow creek, squatting
under Elina's tiny umbrella, bags tightly squeezed against our
bellies to prevent our gear from getting soaked. A few cars passed,
but none stopped (though we were not hitch-hiking, just looking
miserable in the rain). No bus came.
As
we had already learned to expect during these days in Taveuni, the
rain was gone quickly, as quickly as it had emerged. By now we had
given up any true hope on seeing a bus headed in our direction, but
decided to keep walking along the dirt road and call it a Tuesday
stroll. After an hour or so, a car going the opposite direction
stopped, and the driver asked where we were going. We told him we
were trying to get to the waterfalls, and would take the bus if one
would happen to come by. Shaking his head and smiling, he seemed
quite in disbelief. The waterfalls would be some 16 kilometres away,
he said. “Maybe the bus will come.”
After
another hour, strolling past lush vegetation and admirably well-kept
gardens, a second car – a van – stopped, this time going to the
same direction as us. The man in the front seat greeted us in an
oddly casual way, and it took us a moment to realize he was the
relative of aunt Tila that we had already seen couple of times at the
campground. He also shook his head to our plan, and confirmed that we
had missed the ten o'clock bus. There would be a next bus, though,
but taking that bus we would have no time to visit the waterfalls, as
that same bus would be our last connection back in the direction of
our campsite. In his fatherly manner, this kindly old man got us
convinced that we would be better off trying again on another day,
and not missing the morning bus. He offered us a ride back to the
camp, and we climbed in the back seat.
It
still remains unclear where the ten o'clock bus was supposed
to be at ten o'clock.
0 kommenttia:
Lähetä kommentti