Marie Javins's Blog

The processing power of my brain has gone numb, and I am lying in a Best Western bed across from Sydney’s Hyde Park, unable to compute what all I’ve seen over the last week. The volcano alone would have been enough, but the land diving had put me over the edge, and I can’t take any more input. At least, not yet.

How did I used to travel like this for months—even a year once—at a time? Everything is overwhelming and exciting, and it’s funny I used to also build in time for writing. Right now, I feel like a social media post is about my max, and I’m woefully behind even on that, because sleeping feels more essential than social media.

The sudden shift from Vanuatu to Australia is aggressive, like flying to New York from Haiti. I filled my water bottle from the hotel room tap and took a few tentative sips, then laughed at myself and gulped it all down.

I didn’t get to do everything I wanted to do in Vanuatu, and the plane being delayed by two days at the onset had thrown my whole itinerary off-kilter from the start. I certainly did not mean to visit Vanuatu twice in a week, and all my careful planning to save money went right out the window when I impulsively caught a flight to Brisbane to connect through New Caledonia to Vanuatu instead of wasting two whole vacation days at the Sydney Airport Holiday Inn. A friend once told me “Sometimes you just have to throw money at a problem,” and that is exactly what I did. I don’t expect to ever go back to Vanuatu or New Caledonia, and I sure wasn’t going to miss what I’d flown across the Pacific to see.

I’m going to rest for a while, and maybe I’ll drink more tap water. If I look out the window and swivel away from Hyde Park, I’ll see the former Sydney YWCA, where I was savaged by bedbugs in 2002. A friend is coming by later and we’ll get dinner. I’d love to tell him all about Vanuatu, but I’m not sure I can form coherent sentences yet.

“How was Vanuatu?”

“Great! Though they’d just had a cyclone after three years of covid lockdown, so prices were high and supplies were limited. My first day there I went to a café. I ordered a katsu chicken wrap with yam chips. After a while, the server came by and said they were out of sweet potato chips. I told him regular chips were fine. He said they were out of those too, and he brought me a menu. I pointed to the fruit listing, and asked if he had fruit. No fruit, he said. What do you have, I asked him. Mmmm was his response. Banana bread? No. A muffin? No. Did I want hash browns?”

Yes. Yes, I wanted hash browns.

Next, I stopped by a nicer place on the waterfront and ordered a smoothie. “We have no fruit.” “No pawpaws? No bananas?” “We have coconut juice or pineapple smoothie.”

Pineapple smoothie chaser after hash browns, the life of a glamorous traveler.

Or maybe I’ll just tell my friend about getting Polaris pajamas instead. As farfetched as this may sound, it’s easier to explain than Vanuatu.

All three of Air Taxi’s small planes were scheduled to fly to Pentecost Island this morning for Naghol, or land diving. I went to the Tanna volcano with Air Taxi last week, so when the transfer van pulled us tourists up to the domestic gates at the Port Vila airport, I scampered up to the counter and paid my departure tax immediately, rarin’ to go. The next seven people to follow my lead went on the same plane as I did, captained by Duncan from…I have no idea. I can’t even remember his accent. British? Aussie? I have forgotten, weirdly. Anyway, Duncan was a professional pilot who works all over the world, including in Afghanistan during the most recent evacuation.

“How old is this plane?” I was pretty sure it was at least as old as I am, but Duncan wasn’t saying. “Older than all of you, younger than me.”

Maybe.

We all put in our earplugs and took off first, and the single-engine Air Taxi followed with six passengers 13 minutes later. The other two-engine aircraft with eight more folks followed along after that.

We knew rain was imminent, but Duncan was a pro. He dodged the clouds and got us through the hour-long flight with minimal turbulence. But when we got there, he landed and then turned to us as soon as we all had our earplugs out.

“The other two planes turned back due to the clouds. You’re the only people here today.”

Shit, was I lucky! Last week, I’d been thwarted by the Air Vanuatu jet from Sydney being delayed by two days, and I’d missed my Saturday booking. Imagine if I’d come back to Vanuatu from New Caledonia and missed it again! I sure wouldn’t be able to hang around another week.

Check out the land diving photos, they tell the story better than I can.

We missed the picnic and dugong spotting on Efi Island on the way back. Duncan wasn’t taking any chances with the rain. I’m back in my hotel now, drenched in sweat and dirt, and I’ve just scrubbed the mud off my shoes so I can get into Australia tomorrow. I’ll be there for 20 hours before it’s off to LAX.

What a completely weird and incredible experience.

Hulk go to kava bar.

Here's the plan for Saturday. I hope it doesn't rain. I hope Air Vanuatu doesn't leave me stuck on New Caledonia tomorrow. I hope I see the dugong, but I hear that's tough.

I’ve been in Noumea, New Caledonia since Monday night, and it not nearly as exciting as being on the rim of Mt. Yasur in Vanuatu! But I could use a little down time.

Volcano Day was amazing. I left my bag at hotel reception and took just a few things for overnight. Air Taxi picked me up, then we fetched two Kiwi dairy farmers living on a boat (having sold their dairy farm in Chile), then we picked up two French IT guys from Bangkok who were working at a local bank in a contract. A local grandpa joined us at the airport, and off we went in a 10-seater plane to Tanna Island.

We stopped by the lodge to drop off our stuff before a driver took us (not the grandpa, he was just hitching a ride home) to the volcano. The road was nuts, muddy potholes you could lose a Toyota in. Our driver was young, jolly, dreadlocked, and unable to speak English, French, or Spanish so the events all felt random. We never knew what was going to happen next, like travel before the internet. But he drove well and planted us just under the volcano rim. We hiked about five minutes up the ash to stand on the rim and gaze into the literal abyss.

It was terrifying, dangerous, and awesome. It took me about 20 minutes to work through my fear of standing close to the edge, but the view was worth it.

We watched the lava past sunset, then hiked back down to our driver. We were all covered in ash, and the lodge had lovely and welcome showers, plus dinner.

Vanu-what? Vanuatu! That’s where I am.

I came to see Naghol land diving (Saturday), and a volcano (Sunday). But Air Vanuatu’s big plane broke, so I was stranded in Sydney until Sunday. Yes, even after promising me the delayed plane would get out on Friday night.

I scrambled for an alternative, flew to Brisbane (2 minutes before gates closed), raced to the international terminal to go to New Caledonia (6 minutes, I’m doing better), spent 4-5 hours sleeping in a hotel (they don’t let you sleep in the airport there), then got to Vanuatu two hours after the Naghol air taxi left.

I’m sorting out how to go to Naghol on 3 June instead (it’s complicated), but in the meantime, today is volcano day!

That might be the broken plane I was supposed to arrive on yesterday. I improvised and flew from Sydney to Brisbane to New Caledonia to Vanuatu, but missed the Saturday-only land diving. Maybe I can improvise my way back in a week.

I just used Skype to call some poor Air Vanuatu guy in Port Vila to demand the late plane actually go to Vanuatu tonight. "I'm a tourist and I want to go to Vanuatu." 

This is living, folks!

You guys, I used points to upgrade on my flight tonight (heading to Vanuatu but the first flight is 15 hours LAX-Sydney), and the flight attendant just gave me pajamas and slippers. 

This is a far cry from a neck pillow in Economy!