Santo

I wrote the following last evening. I'm now in Port-Vila. Flying to Ambryn to hike up some volcanoes tomorrow morning. 

I have just had a small glass of kava, which is not a funny sparkling, but the powdered dry root of a bush mixed with water. It's traditionally the drink of choice of the men of the South Seas. It's bitter -you would normally wash your mouth with some water, and spit it out, after every glass. It's non-alcoholic, but surely alters your senses: it numbs your mouth and tickles your nose. Supposedly, it induces a mellow state of mind -I'd say I'm high, but maybe I'm just tired. Someone should export this to the Muslim world, there's no alcohol, it's surely halal.

I arrived to Luganville, Vanuatu's second "city", in the island of (Espiritu) Santo, its biggest island, on Saturday evening. Flew from Brisbane to Port-Vila, the capital, in the island of Efate, where I made the domestic flight connection.

Even before landing, when I first saw the island group of Efate through the clouds, this place reminded me of Haiti. This is how Haiti would be if there wasn't for the deforestation and overpopulation. The landscape is almost fluorescent green, in a succession of cultivated lands, forest, ravines, creeks and rivers.

A few other things increase the familiarity I feel: the answers are always affirmative, but that doesn't guarantee that you have been understood or that you will get the coffee and piece of cake you wanted, but you are guaranteed a big smile. Most of the music I hear on the streets, in the shops or coming from cars is a surprising mix of merengue and reggeaton, mostly sung in Spanish (how, why, who?) and some R&B and French chanson.

On top of that, I'm enjoying finding myself in what should be stressful or annoying situations but feeling calm and amused by them. Of course, I'm on holidays and don't live here, and I'm 15 years older.

Sunday, I dived the wreck of the SS. President Coolidge. A luxury cruise liner, requisitioned for transport in the II World War, that hit a mine about 2 kilometres east of Luganville and just a few metres off the shore -the soldiers and crew were able to walk to safety. It's was absolutely great. Dived probably beyond my certification limits to about 43 metres and into the wreck, to the old smoking room of the ship. It was awesome, and a little bit scary as we went into the hull.

Monday, the adventure was on land. I hiked to the Millennium Cave. Not at all what I was expecting -not at all a few hours hike plus a shorter walk through the cave. Instead of that, after a one hour drive on a track that could qualify as off-road, we walked up and down for about two hours, with mud up to our ankles, to the entrance of the cave to find (me, as the others do the tour every day) that a river, a creek maybe, runs all along it. I changed into my reef boots and followed my barefoot guide into the cave. Two or three cascades, rapids (tackled nimbly with hands and feet) iand deeper areas. At the other end, we seat down and had lunch by a small natural pool.

I took some pictures, but they are a very pale reflexion of the original -the lush rainforest, the misty air, the water, the overcast almost white sky (the current dry season is proving as wet as the wet season). I loved the misty air, even if it at times turned into a proper drizzle. I'm sure that the landscape looks amazing in the sun; in the mist, it was magical, reinforcing my impression of being an explorer on a virgin land (not at all, of course).

After lunch, we canyoned downstream, surrounded by 20 metres high vertical walls, with a dozen cascades falling into the river. This was amazing, fantastic, stunning -don't have enough adjectives.

After maybe 40 minutes, we left the river and climbed up a rather steep stony hill, following a very small brook, to the hamlet that was our base. Had coffee (instant coffee) and some fruit, before walking back the half an hour to the van -and then back to my hotel in Luganville (a 1970s modern hotel, now an old and lacklustre place, but with local charm, and cheap).

The pristine and virgin forest is nevertheless under threat. A foreign vine, introduced during the II War Wold, slowly expands everywhere, covering the forest, suffocating and killing the trees. It looks unstoppable. There are big track of cleared forest, covered just by the vine. It's unsettling. A real-life horror sci-fi movie.

I still have 8 days in Vanuatu, that I'm spending in Ambryn and Efate. If they are half as amazing as this first days in Santo, I'm up for a fabulous time.

I upload a bunch of random pictures: me, at the airport, with the welcome conch necklace I got; bilingual signage; bismala sings; Luganville.