Fiji: half world across, or the inevitable start of my return home

Two months have passed since I arrived to Fiji, the fourth destination of my trip across Oceania, the fourth stop on my Pacific crossing, which started in January this year to become endless, lazy, done at the local pace, “Pacific time”, without any sort of haste, conditioned by the unlikely ship that sooner or later arrived to bring me across to the next destination, one step at a time.

Two months have passed since I left Vanuatu, taken by the wind and by the luck of having met captain Jacob, who opened the door to his ship Mewa so I could continue dreaming my trip around the world without haste or planes, trip which persisted during that week of crossing at the whim of the waves, flying just above the surface, touching the waves with my fingers while we advanced against the wind the distance of another stage of the trip, mile by mile.

I arrived here tired, with my body aching after six restless days beaten by the continuous bouncing of relentless waves. I arrived here tired, exhausted, victimized by the tropics, which inflamed my finger and made my journey more difficult and my arrival bitter. I arrived tired, with the same happiness felt ever when crossing a new border, but which I fetl less welcoming due to the tiredness of an illness which became infinite, in a nearly there that never came, which made me tired of being here despite having just arrived.

But the days passed, my body reacted, rest did its part and life recovered its flavor little by little, owning me, again being mine each day. Time has passed in the ugly Lautoka, sweet land of sugar which was made bitter by my days of waiting, but where the door was once more opened to allow my path to follow. Time has passed, and again at sea I surrounded half island, discovering by accident the little island of Qoma, embraced by the welcoming warmth of the Pacific and of Fijian traditions. Time has passed, bringing me to the constantly rainy Suva, capital city where days passed slowly waiting for the time to depart. Time has passed, and tired of waiting I went to visit the lush green island of Taveuni, where in the same day I touched yesterday and tomorrow, enchanted by the silly magic travelers feel when crossing lines, having passed the meridian which left me 180 degrees from home, reassuring I was really in the back half of our round planet.

Tomorrow is again the day to depart. It is time again to embrace my destiny, of living the inevitability of being Portuguese and go to sea, once more taken by the wind as those ancient Portuguese who spread our name across the seven seas. Tomorrow is again the day to depart, starting a new stage of the great crossing which separates me from the other side of the Pacific, which little by little will bring me closer to the American continent, Neptune willing. Slowly the world becomes round, and even without noticing, and even without haste, the time has come to start returning home.

On board the S.V. Mewa, Lami Town-Suva, Fiji, 31 of August 2015