Holiday ‘another gem for necklace of memories’

Press, 24 April 1979, Page 24

Holiday ‘another gem for necklace of memories’

‘‘The Press” earlier this month invited readers who had visited Fiji to share the highlights of their holidays with others. Space docs not permit the printing of all the many contributions received, but the selection reproduced on this page is representative of the wide range of interests covered.

There is mystery and

romance in the very name, “South Sea Islands.” The longing to visit these places, to bask awhile in the tropical sunshine: to lie on golden beaches, watching the graceful coconut palms waving in the scented air, comes, to most of us. For some, it provides an escape from the humdrum of life, for others an exciting interlude, or a grasping of youth and gaiety, of love and laughter, before the inevitable grey days which age brings in its train. | Whatever the reason i there is no doubt that a : visit to Viti Levu, holds ' rest for the weary, ro- : mance for the young, and a new way of life for all. For me, it was excitingly different; another gem to string on my necklace of memcrries. The graceful Indian women in their colourful saris, the arrestingly beautiful part-Chinese girls, and children of all races. I visited “St Anne on Sea,” an Island paradise, where one goes to sleep to the sound of the trade winds singing in the palms, and red hibicus tap on the window panes. A visit to the reef that lies a little I off shore, shows many I wonderful specimens of I marine growth, and to I watch the ocean thunderI ing against the reef,

arouses a feeling of awe. A visit to outlying villages showed me the heart of Fiji, where a chief still ruled. One chief took me into his bure and with ex-

quisite courtesy told me many tales of life long ago in Fiji. One outstanding event 1 witnessed was an Indian firewalking ceremony at Navua. The devotees of the Fire Goddess had spent three days of bathing and fasting. At the ceremony. I saw' brass skewers thrust through their cheeks, chest and arms. I saw the skewers pulled out by priests and no blood was evident. The devotees really did walk on red hot embers, one man carrying a baby child. At the conclusion all were sprayed with a liquid, which I later learned was the urine of a cow.

The Fijian policemen were really eye-catching with their splendid postures and spotless white sulus. Even in the execution of their job they managed to maintain that pleasant personality which is so much a part of the Fijian. Eventually, on a golden morning, I had to say “morohe” (farewell) to the sunny isles and climb aboard the aircraft which would fly me hack.to New Zealand. Far below me, with the fragrance of my frangipani lei heavy in my nostrils, the green jewel that is Viti Levu faded from sight. —JOY SUMMERS, Stephens Bay, Molueka.