Monday, September 3, 2012

“Mum, there is a party in my hair” - no it is head-lice!

This site is obsolete

Yesterday we were meant to go to Beachcomber Island, but the Customs Police cancelled the boat, as it was illegal!
As we had already been last time we were here, we happily negotiated a credit off our hotel account – and as we had already bought the package as a super cheap deal off ebay from someone who was unable to use it, this meant the whole week was a massive bargain!
I get smart, and hop over a rope and bala-bala carved stump (kind of like a dead burnt tree fern that is carved into a face like the ones in the picture below), lacerated my leg in a 3 inch square - which looks like 50 thatched razor cuts, and end up discovering it is full of wood splinters. Ouch!
So we took off once again down the Sugar Cane Train track to get a local bus. 
We decide to see how many water-slides we could find at other resorts. 
But first we say good-bye to Liam - my son's friend from New Zealand.  Here below are both boys drinking coconut milk.
My son was very upset as his friend Liam was leaving the resort to go elsewhere, so he prayed he would see him again, and he had a few tears. 
We find our first slide.
But after the first slide, we headed by bus, aiming to swap buses at the junction by-pass.
We pass an Fiji Indian truck nicely decorated.
Suddenly we see the shuttle from our resort and hail him down. 
Inside is our friends (and his buddy) moving to their new hotel. 
My son was amazed. 
We hopped off the mini-van and left them again, and headed to the next hotel with a water-slide. 
Staying another hour or so, we decided we needed food. 
On the way, once again the tears start about him missing Liam, and as we walk into a corner café, there they are again! 
Alas the kitchen had just shut, so we headed to Denarau Golf Club – a great place for a reasonable feed if you are in this upper-class neck of the Fiji woods.
We then set off for the last water slide at a resort we had previously stayed at.
 It was deemed the winner slide, so it was like dragging a pit-bull from a steak, as we raced out to immediately hop on a mini-van, and then a local bus.
The maniac bus driver is going at top speed when he can, with one finger in and out of his nostril and into his mouth, with the gathered prize he chews!!!
He then would go about 10 metres and stop, and pack more on and off the bus like cattle. 
Four people (plus shopping or mats or bags) to a seat that held two, and my son falls asleep. 
The ride is peak-hour, and I spot two Chinese ladies, who introduce themselves as Violet and her Mum, June (who looks younger than me, and speaks no English) and who are in the room next to us back at The Anchorage Resort.
They have no idea how to get back to the resort. I am glad, as by the time we get off the bus at the village it is near dark, and we yet have to walk the Sugar Cane Train track back for 15 minutes. 
So I feel as ‘knowing leader’, I can perform a random act of kindness in leading the troops safely back.  We pass a few locals, and we all carry sugar cane sticks as weapons – just in case. 
June is a bit frightened, but by the end of the walk we have made new friends.
That night, my son madly thrashes at his head and informs me ‘there is a party in my hair’. I fear the worst, and empty about 6 bottles of resort conditioner onto his head. 
 Oh no – as I comb and wipe it on a tissue, I find about 50 head lice. Some are monsters. 
 I am pretty sure he has had these – and my guess is from when he was on a spinning disc ride at Coney Island, Luna Park in Sydney, where the kids heads were all banging together. 
 I also figure if he has them, there is a good chance he may have infected me.
We cancel our plans where we are meant to meet our Fiji friends for the next day, and head to town for treatment.
I realise I can’t comb out the back of my head, and my son would be useless to do a thorough job, even if he tried. 
 So I hunt out a hairdresser. 
 His shop is empty and as I ask if he can treat head lice, he looks like he has seen a ghost and ushers us out. 
 We find a Chemist – Drug Store, and discover this is not a common Fiji problem, and it is an expensive one. 
 We then traipse across town, and call an Indian lady hairdresser out of her shop, and ask her quietly if she can help. 
 She is lovely! 
We are ushered into the back of the salon, and treated quietly and kindly, whilst my son happily plays games in the iPod, and then also both given hair trims to finish. 
 She is such a professional, meticulously clean and thorough lady; I have to recommend her on this blog. 
My Hair & Beauty Salon, Main Street, Nadi Town Phone 6701961. So if you need a hairdresser in Fiji, I suggest this salon. 
 She made my day, and we can give ourselves a further and final preventative treatment before our ferry-boat ride next week.
Not the party I had expected!  Definitely gate-crashed with pests.

1 comment:

  1. Love the waterslides! Shame about the party in your hair, how awful!


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.