What is Laowai in Fiji?


So there is an advantage to looking old and confused.  My seatmate was native Fijian and nice to talk to.  So nice that I got in the ‘Fiji Citizens’ line at immigration without realizing it.  I started backward out of the warren of ropes and an immigration official just smiled and waved me back.  So I got through immigration as a Fijian citizen.  I waved to all the losers being grilled at the international arrival line.  It’s good to be a Fijian!


Immigration gal asks how long Ill be here.  Four months?  How much money do you have on you?  I’m thinking she suspects I lied on the Immigration card.  ‘Bout a hundred, I guess,’ I said lamely.  “Do you have enough to support you for four months on a sailboat?  Sweetheart, I don’t have enough on me to support me through the duty-free shop, ffs.  “Yes,” I said with a smile.  “Welcome to Fiji.”  Remember - I’m a citizen now.


Duty-free was much better stocked than their web presence indicated.  Bought two bottles of Talisker 10.  Should last until Thursday.


Made extensive use of airline help and Info desks.  Finally found the domestic terminal.  Long walk outside.  Oh well, enjoying the warmth.  Domestic terminal is sparse - think CMX without the charm.  My boarding pass did not match the outgoing flight to Savusavu.  “No problem,’ says the ticket guy.  Just be in the lounge at 7:45.  OK, Sparky.


So now I have three bags counting the Duty-Free bottles.  But I look at the mountains of carry-ons wielded by some of my fellow flyers and say what the hell.


Just saw the pilot walk by.  He looks competent.  We’ll see. 


Bathroom urinals are made for Shaq.  Seriously, any guy shorter than me would have to arc his stream to reach them.  And by shorter I mean height (lookin’ at you, Sis).

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