Alive

Trips have a life of their own. Like parties. The best ones are those that come alive and develop on their own. 

It took me almost 3 months to realise that luck has nothing to do when things don't go as planned, for better or for worse.

We plan to keep our brains busy and to create the illusion of security and stability. However, each trip has its own logic (or karma, luck, destiny, soul), out of the reach of our understanding.

On a short trip, it's only one or two aspects that deviate from our plans and desires, but frequently those deviations set a new route for the trip. 

On a long trip, there are so many things beyond our pretence of an ability to control what happens around us -and the only possible approach is to let go and let the trip take you. 

I've come to that conclusion after almost 3 months of travel and Tonga. 

You might think I'm exaggerating if I say that hardly anything went according to my original plan in Tonga -and that some things went completely wrong. But it is almost true.

I don't exaggerate at all, however, saying that Tonga was one of the highlights of this trip.

Almost two hours after arriving, on Saturday night, I found myself knocking on the door of an empty guesthouse a bit in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, the guy who drove me there was still around, so I ended up at this other guesthouse where he worked. But I couldn't stay there for a second night. On Sunday, although the country comes to a stand-still (by tradition and law), I managed to find a ride to the "centre" of Nuku'alofa and a room at a very charming hotel, just across the street from the dive shop with which I had organised to dive on the inner reefs off Nuku'alofa and in the island of 'Eua. On top of that, that hotel has one of the only three restaurants in town open on Sunday evening -between breakfast and dinner, I survived on a package of crackers.

The dives off Nuku'alofa weren't anything special, save for the fact that I had to change once my BCD (jacket) and twice my regulator. 

Sunday night, the owner of the dive shop called me to tell me the ferry to 'Eua was leaving at 8am instead of 11am the following morning, destroying my plans of a lazy morning walking around Nuku'alofa to see the royal palace and send some postcards. She took the ferry as well, with 3 of her 5 sons and a friend of hers (a Canadian accountant working as a volunteer teaching English at a local school). We all stayed at their guesthouse, build with local cedar wood by Wolfgang the German dive instructor that doubles as the manager and cook of the place. A small affair of 5 log cabins and a communal lounge and dinning area, the only other guests were the visiting parents of an American "Peace Corps" volunteer. It felt like staying at a friend's house. a couple of times, the owner invited me to join them on their excursions around the island on her car.

Wolfgang is an amazing character: in his 50s, he has lived in half the world, and travelled the other half, since he left East Germany in 1990; almost a misanthropist, he seems to be happy leading the life of a modern Robinson Crusoe, as he himself told me, on an island of 5000 people. I went hiking with him to a beautiful beach at the bottom of a high cliff one afternoon. The way back, after trying my ability with the machete opening some coconuts, became a class on orientation and path finding, as he made me lead the way back up the rim of the cliffs. We made it -and I learnt a few ticks. 

I had planned 3 dives in 'Eua, but Monday the sea was too rough and the sky to cloudy. I instead only dived on Tuesday: we went down to the "Cathedral", a huge underwater cave, about 100 metres deep and 50 metres across at its widest. Its deepest sections almost at 30 metres below sea level, the height of its ceiling not far behind that. The water around 'Eua is incredibly clear and you can see through the three holes pieced on the ceiling, as well as through the entrance, the deepest of blues, and all around cave from any where you are. One of the holes is just at the break of the waves, which from below looks like a strange and ever changing stormy sky. Not an easy thing to see. 

There's a completely dark section in the cave, at less than 20 metres of depth, home of a species of luminescent fish. You enter into its absolute darkness, kneel down on the bottom and watch their lights dance around you. It's magical.

Tongans are extremely friendly, less used to tourists and very curious -most have relatives in New Zealand or Australia, but they don't know much about the world. I was asked which island and village I was from. They have the same beautiful smile I saw in Samoa, but they are more gentle and relaxed. They're beautiful people, very close to their traditions.

I left wishing I had more time to explore the country. I feel happy in Polynesia just by the mere fact of being there. I cannot explain why or how. I think I'm coining back.

After Tonga, and 36 hours in cold and grey Auckland, I'm flying to Tahiti tomorrow. A different face a Polynesia.