FAFA ISLAND IN THE KINGDOM OF TONGA On 24 October 2006, my husband and I left from Hartsfield Jackson Airport in Atlanta, bound for the South Pacific Kingdom of Tonga, and then on to New Zealand. We were gone three weeks in all. This trip had no Space-A aspects, except for leaving our car at Fort McPherson in Atlanta, and taking the metro to the airport. Even though our travel was entirely commercial, the many retired and active duty military people who go to Hawaii and points east are sure to find Tonga a marvelous destination. There are flights from around the Pacific to Tonga. (Editor's Note: You can travel the longest and most expensive portion of this trip via Space-A air and use temporary military lodging along the way—(reference the Feldmans' route and suggestions on pages 1, 6 and 7) as commercial flights are frequent and inexpensive once you reach the South Pacific area.) An incredible nine-hour layover at LAX was made bearable by spending the afternoon in the Bob Hope Hollywood USO. It's located in a small building across the street from the passenger terminal. Staffed by elderly volunteers some of whom are WWII veterans, it has the usual features, plus one great thing: the "sleeping room." It's dark and quiet, with recliners, and coverlets for each service. I rested a few hours curled up in an Army one, of course. The Tongan Islands, of which there are many, are said to be like Hawaii and Tahiti before they were developed, and are the poorest of the South Pacific islands. Inhabited by the same Polynesians who settled the more well-known parts of the area, their climate is more temperate than that of Tahiti, Fiji, Samoa, and other islands nearer the equator. The 12-hour flight to Auckland on Air New Zealand was quite comfortable, with a variety of entertainment options and pretty good airline food. We had a two-hour layover in the Auckland, NZ airport waiting for our flight to Tonga. Sitting in the terminal, we knew this trip was going to be a different experience when we saw numbers of Tongans in their national costume. They wore black, still in mourning for their 88-year old king, who died in mid-September after reigning for more than 40 years. Over the shirts and skirts, they had what looked like straw mats tied around the middle with various decorative belts. A three-hour flight on Air New Zealand brought us to Tonga's main island, where the international airport looked creaky and worn-out. All the airport officials wore the national dress, even the drug dog handlers. Watching the bags lurch along the decrepit carousel, I told Cliff, "We'll never see our bags again." But we did; there they came, all the way from the States. We had arranged a four-day stay on the small island of Fafa, a 30-minute boat ride from the main island. Fafa Island Resort (www.fafaislandresort.com) was built about 20 years ago by a German architect-engineer and is run with typical Teutonic efficiency. The resort contracts with a driver who meets passengers at the airport. He took us and another couple on the long drive to the wharf, where a little boat met us. No oars, no life preservers, nothing but a dilapidated craft manned by a friendly pilot. By now, we were like a couple of zombies from the long flight and many hours in airports; tired as I was, it didn't scare me much. Such a beautiful sight greeted us—the clear water, all shades of blue and green, the dazzling white sand of the beaches, the luxuriant stands of palms, and, getting closer, the weather-worn grey decks of the outdoor restaurant and bar area, graced with tropical flowers. Our fale, which is what the houses are called, was named "Sunset," and was a long walk along a sandy path through the jungle growth. At dusk, someone brought lanterns to the fales, so that guests could find their way home after dinner. The fales have huge mosquito-netted beds and furniture made of local materials. They're constructed of wood and thatch, and the bathrooms are in an adjacent outdoor area. Completely private and enclosed with dense plant growth, it's a marvelously appealing way to shower, with flowers all around and huge wild parrots squawking overhead. In the front yard, there's a two-person hammock and two recliners—perfect places to read, dream, watch the sunset over the Pacific. Early each morning someone tiptoes to the porch and leaves a thermos of hot water and packets of tea and coffee. The food here was wonderful, and some of the Australians seemed to really enjoy the bar, all day long. One of the best things about Fafa was the interesting people we met. Well-traveled, well-educated, cosmopolitan, charming, most of them were friendly and engaging, and we missed them after we left for New Zealand. Having arrived on Saturday, we rested and Sunday took the full day tour of the main island. Tonga is still heavily influenced by the missionary culture from the last century. Everything stops completely on the Sabbath. Along with another couple, we took the 0930 boat, were met by the same driver who brought us out from the airport, and proceeded to the church. Open to the elements on both sides, it was jammed with tall, beautiful Tongans, all dressed in black with their straw over-garments, hundreds of them singing in glorious harmony for half an hour before the service. They took no notice of us at all. Pretty soon, the king drove up in his Rolls Royce, but we couldn't get a glimpse of him. We couldn't understand the sermon, but the tone was definitely scolding. Our driver collected us from the church and took us to the home of a local woman who had prepared lunch. There were a number of dishes, a lot of seafood, and our hostess sat with us and conversed about island life. She's a TV reporter, very well spoken and quietly dignified. We felt comfortable and welcome there. After lunch we were off to see the rather limited sights of the capital city and countryside. The king's palace, the Queen Anne style residence of his late grandmother, the string of blow holes along the coast, the numerous churches and their affiliated school campuses, and a few ancient monolithic stones thought to be astronomical sites just about did it. A highlight of our island stay was the music and dancing show put on by the staff and their family members. It wasn't polished or professional, but it was fun and one really handsome hunky guy, the maitre d' by day, did a great Hawaiian number. Members of the audience stuck paper money to the oiled upper bodies and arms of the dancers, as a sign of approval for their performances. Although there is no malaria spread by Tongan mosquitoes, dengue fever is still a concern. Along with repellent, we brought some sheets of fabric softener and tucked them into our shirt (and pajama) pockets, which I'm told disguises our scent so that the mosquitoes don't recognize us as a meal. I'm happy to report that we had not one bite. We left Fafa all too soon, and although the resort was more rustic than luxurious, I enjoyed being there more than any other part of the trip. It turns out that late October usually has the best weather, warm but not humid days, and verging on cool at night. Chaplain Cliff Weathers, COL, USA (Ret.) About the Travelers: Cliff retired as a colonel from the Army with 30 years of service in the Chaplains Corps. We live in far western North Carolina, and are community activists and volunteers in our rural area. One of our great pleasures is travel, most of it via Space-A opportunities on military aircraft. We are avid fans of Military Living Publications, we have used the newsletters and guides for many years. Copyright 2000-2010 Military Living® Publications |
