Samoa is another island country. This time just four islands, two of which are uninhabited. 200,000 people live on the other islands. We arrived at the capital and largest city of Apia at the north of Upolu Island. We docked at a place that was called the cruise terminal. However, it looked just like any working cargo port to me. No facilities for passengers but a lot of containers piled up all around the place.
As is the way, we were loaded into a variety of local buses and sent off on a tour. My first concern was as to how our driver could see where he was going. The windscreen was plastered in little mirrors, numerous silhouettes of curvaceous women, brightly coloured fluffy material and a variety of certificates and notices. To see the road, he needed to squint through the remaining, small gaps. I hoped that his utterly enormous bright green gear stick helped in some way.
First stop was the cathedral. We got there without hitting anything. The church was a moderately simple wooden building. Smartly painted in white and blue. Adorned with many intricate stained-glass windows. I was impressed by one design in particular. There, sat amongst the disciples was a Samoan. You could tell he was Samoan from the traditional tattoos. He was looking very relaxed. Laid back, eyes partially closed. Very comfortable. He holds a fan to keep cool and is smoking a big, fat doobie. This explains much that is conventionally considered supernatural. Photograph from Susan. Thank you.
Then we got dropped off at the vegetable market and told we had an hour. It was a little over 30°C and extremely humid. Not the ideal conditions for spending an hour looking at vegetables but we gave it a go. Because of variations in altitude, the farmers can cultivate a broad range of tropical and subtropical crops. Many of these were on offer in the market. Taro used to be a major source of income for Samoa. A fungal blight devastated the plants in 1993. From a peak of 50%, taro now accounts for less than 1% of export revenue. The roots can be roasted or boiled. Other tables were laden with coconuts, papaya, avocado and citrus fruits. There were bananas still growing upwards from their stalks and prickly skinned soursop. This has an aromatic pulp used to make healthy juices, smoothies and ice cream.
It took about half an hour before the heat and humidity combined with the excitement of raw vegetables was getting to be too much for us. Back at the small, grubby bus we found most of the other members of our group taking advantage of the air conditioning. It was not especially cool in the bus but it was better than sitting outside. Since everyone had come back early, we left early to head up to the museum.
This was the Robert Louis Stevenson museum. After writing Kidnapped and Treasure Island he came here at the end of the 19th century for his lung health. It did not work and a few years later, at just 44 years old, he dropped dead in his purpose-built smoking room. We were shown around a replica of his bed, his wife’s bed, his mother’s bed and somebody else’s bed. We were also shown the only two fireplaces in Samoa. At 30°C it was easy to understand why fireplaces are not really needed. Quite possibly, neither of these have ever been lit but they do provide an nice, homely feel for a family originating in Scotland.
Round the back of the museum a seating area had been set up so that we could watch a cultural presentation. This started with a guided description of the tattoos on the back and legs of a large local lad. Then came the music and the dancing which involved a lot of shouting. The details were all meticulously recorded by a veritable army of phone wielding tourists.
Back at the ship, we had a few hours before departure, so we went snorkelling. It was only a few minutes’ walk to a small beach. We were charged $5 each to enter one of the smallest, least impressive beach areas I have ever visited. I have not visited many beaches. There may well be many worse. Diane opted out of getting into the water. The approach was steep and rocky. Great scope for minor injury or worse. I carefully picked my way down to the water and played with the new camera for half an hour. There were quite a few fish around and after much searching I manged to find some coral.
We were comfortably back on board before the ship sailed. A tug escorted us out. I doubt the Seabourne Pursuit, our ship, needs a tug. However, I imagine that port rules need to be followed and the tug probably needs the money. As the sun began setting, Samoa receded into the distance and Tonga was calling.
