After waiting in an apocalyptic-like airport in New Zealand, getting our temperatures checked at every turn, we were off to Fiji. The concerned messages we received from family and friends (and the government) basically telling us that we needed to get ourselves home convinced us. Everything is shutting down and while being stranded in Fiji sounds idilic, my blueberries need attention and my mortgage won’t pay itself. With airlines and carriers unavailable by phone (and hesitant to book anything online for fear of losing more money), the day after we arrived, we parked ourselves outside the Fiji airways office, along with the remainder of Fiji’s tourists (also trying to get home), and waited to speak to a live human. When we finally confirmed a fight out, we breathed sighs of relief. But we aren’t there yet.

Yesterday we went to the Sabeto mud pools in the mountains for a day of R&R. As we lathered our bodies with the black gooey mud, the continuous gentle rain metamorphosed into a torrential downpour. The sky opened and buckets of water poured out of it. Undeterred, we lowered ourselves into the hot springs. Shortly after, before our very eyes, the lush, tropical walkways and plants disappeared and gave way to an ever widening river. When the cold water overflowed into the hot pool where we were currently immersed, we clued in that we needed to get out. Within minutes, the whole area was flooded. The springs are positioned at the junction of six mountain streams and it was amazing how quickly it coalesced into a torrent. Apart from four Australians and the workers, we were the only people there. We clustered together watching and waiting for the water to recede, but the deluge continued and the road remained impassable. It was later in the day and we were a long way from the hotel. We decided, along with Stella (an awesome 81-year-old Fijian preacher lady who was there selling trinkets) that we better try to get out on foot. After the TA we are no strangers to river crossings, but Stella was understandably nervous. We waded in together, holding hands. Cars were stranded on sections of the dirt road but a few people on foot (and the odd horse) were walking through the waist deep water. Eventually we emerged and Stella was able to flag down a random police cruiser who picked us up, gunned through the last of the flood and drove us back to the hotel.

We have been in Fiji for three days and we are now at the airport waiting for our flight home via LA as I write. There are only four departures today and two of them are listed as canceled. Apparently we are on the second last flight leaving for the US (we were told that there is a 50-50 chance of our plane actually taking off) before the airport closes on Monday. We left early for the airport today as some roads here are also being closed. This trip has been quite a ride on many different levels and home is the best place to be right now. We aren’t there yet but I will be happy when we are on Canadian soil. I feel like we will slide in sideways. I’ll keep you posted.