Nuku'alofa is on the main island, Tongapatu. You can drive around it in a day. There are a few beautiful sights. But we headed straight to Ha'apai, the middle island group where, it seems, very few people go. It was an eventful 40 minute flight in a little eight seater. The pilot's words when we landed on a stretch of road in Lifuka: "Welcome to Lifuka, the time is, no time, and the temperature is beautiful." He wasn't wrong. Wow. The sun and the small breeze, perfect. It's difficult to explain, but like going back in time. There's nothing that resembles the 21st century here. The government offices look more like empty farm shacks, there is no real road, and the bank's windows are wide open when the front doors are supposedly 'locked'!
Pangai represents the only hive of activity on Lifuka, one of the 62 islands in the group - 45 uninhabited. Out to the west, pyrimidal Kao and its smoking partner Tofua belch fumes into the air. Here we managed to find a guy with a boat, who 'knew' a guy on the island of Uoleva where we were keen to stay. Much waiting later we were aboard a tin pot dingy idling our way out of the small harbour - there were a few jumpy moments when the island dipped out of view - and into the great expanse of water that is the Pacific. After an hour of inhaling diesel fumes we finally caught sight of land and, once our hosts came into view, bailed over the side into the blue waters below. Here we are, our own slice of paradise. Not another westerner in sight and nothing around us but pristine white beaches, coconuts and fish the size of small cars. No running water, no electriciy, no cafes, restaurants or bars. Two hammocks, a bed and mozzy net, and a local Tongan couple to cook us up wholesome goodness - fish, pork, chicken and a whole load of stodgy yam!
Tongan culture is pretty simple driven by a strict family hierachy. In short, they're a pretty darn religious bunch who, when they're not bellowing out hymns at church, can be found licking out the inside of corn beef tins. Yet, you forgive these people their obesity and laziness because they;re just about the friendliest people you'll ever meet - and they boast a wonderful sense of humour to boot! They have no money and crave to move away - a lot chose New Zealand but in reality, unless they can break into the All Blacks first 15, there's little hope for them there outside seasonal labour. Such good people though. We stayed with Sonny and his wife Maria. Christ were those two funny. And Sonny, so many stories to tell. About diving with sharks, discovering bodies on beaches, and sneaking aboard the passing ocean liners - of course, all his yarns stemmed from too much local rum!
And they cooked the tastiest food imaginable. Fresh snapper every night, chicken and mutton cooked in fresh coconut milk with onions, wrapped in Taro leaves. Didn't have to slaughter a pig, but if we had I don't know where we would have put it! Both put on pounds forcing down the fresh pancakes, fried bananas, curries, and an unbeatable 'umu', the traditional Tongan dish where everything is wrapped in Taro leaves and burried in the ground with boiling hot rocks. Dinner table chatter was hilarious, perched around a rickety table under which the mozzys hammered ya ankles.
During the day it was as though we were on our own island. Days were spent circumnavigating the island, the untouched beach laced with coconut drenched palms. Felt like Robinson Crusoe a number of times using shells and driftwood to price open coconuts and slurp the ice cold milk inside. The hardest part was deciding where to stop for a swim!
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