Labasa Bus
Beez Neez now Chy Whella
Big Bear and Pepe Millard
Mon 15 Jun 2015 22:47
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Our Bus Trip to
Labasa
   At a quarter to seven the rest of the Stealthy Six, to be called from here on in
– the Stealthies, arrived at the side of Beez, dinghy tethered, we set
about the ten minute walk to the bus station along the High Street. We were
greeted by Arnand our driver, who after taking two
pounds from each of us said all we had to do was pull on his frayed string
attached to an old bicycle bell above his head, if we needed to stop to take
pictures along the way. The locals concurred and all agreed they were in no rush
and this was a very normal thing in their world. The half past seven bus pulled
out at twenty to eight, air-conditioning was all the windows slid
open.
 We were heading over the mountains from
middle south to middle north of the island, leaving
Savusavu with a population of seven thousand and thirty four for the capital
city of the island – Labasa, pronounced Lambasa with twenty eight thousand, the
Bollywood of Venua Levu.
  Soon after leaving we passed the Police Station and on past a couple of
posh houses........
 .............and traditional villages.......
   Out onto the
‘motorway’ where we saw many groups of
schoolchildren walking barefoot to the start of their new week. The bus
began its first steep climb, toward the top we all involuntarily wafted front
and back in a Fred Flinstone movement, at the top we were met with quite a view
of lush forest cloaked in morning
mist.
 Over our right shoulder we had a view
of the Bay.
   A couple of
workers stopped to discuss what they were
going to hack this morning. A group of college
students.
 About the half-way mark we stopped at a
junction and Arnand gave time for the orange sellers
to wander the aisle.
   We stopped at a
village well past its prime and later a pretty little
temple.
  Downward to the ‘dry’ side of the
island the scenery changed and then turned to sugar plantations. This was the main trade of the area
complete with rail line to take the cane the five kilometres to the nearest
port.
   A few rickety
bridges later, Labasa appeared and onto the
High Street.
 Into the Bus
Station. We had travelled eighty five kilometres at an average speed of
twenty miles an hour from sea level to a highest elevation of five hundred and
ninety eight metres. It was now twenty past ten and clearly it was time for a
cup of tea.
 We were soon settled in a very popular cafe and just look at the prices – a cup of tea thirty pence,
sausage and chips one pound thirty and whole chicken for the princely sum of two
pounds and seventy pence.
   All the locals were so very welcoming
and the waitress was with us in seconds. A two gallon kettle was seen swinging
busily in the background and the hot cabinet was full of delicious looking
curry, roti, ordinary chicken and the days special – beef stew. The boys tucked
into meat pies that were a really good impression of
a Cornish pasty. I had sponge
cake, can’t really tell you what flavour it was but so light and moist.
 Maj had a
roll with a hard-boiled egg beside it and gave us all a laugh when, on taking
her first bite, the yolk quite unannounced popped out and bounced around on her
plate. Mary delved in the Lonely Planet and announced we were off in search of
the ni bokola – the head chopping stone and the bowl-like stone in
which fresh human brain was placed to be savoured by the chief. Rightee-oo then,
and off we went.
ALL IN ALL A MEMORABLE
AT-VENTURE OVER THE HILLS
A GREAT WAY TO SEE THE ISLAND AND MEET THE
LOCALS |