First impressions were how friendly the people were. We felt at home pretty quickly, and we spent the first 2 days in a nice hotel in Baie des Citrons. Once we got in contact with Claude, the cousin of Emmie's grandmother and a 'Pieds Noirs' who settled in NC after leaving Algeria (via Morocco briefly), he picked us up and we went to stay with him and his partner, Thi Theu (a Vietnamese settler in NC).
On arriving at Claude's house, I was immediately growled at by his two dogs, to which Claude remarked it was because of my skin colour. It turns out he wasn't kidding. This was my first sign that something was amiss in Noumea. There is a definite palpable tension between the kanak population and the caldoches (white french residents). Since the 'events' of 1984, there has been many policy changes in the French administration of the island that have solved some issues and brought new ones. I won't go into the politics here, you can read about it yourself. Fortunately the dogs warmed to me after a day or two and they became very good friends.
Betty the dog, apologising for barking at me.
We went for dinner straight away at the home of the niece of Thi Theu, a big vietnamese family dinner. Amazing food and interesting conversation, particularly their family history in relation to emigrating to NC and the communist uprising in Vietnam.
Claude took us around town to see some of his work (he has been in construction for a long time and still is in a part-time, semi-retired way). He also took us to see the old house where Emmie's parents and grandparents (on the Salado side) spend part of their lives. We met with their neighbours, including their old landlady, who is now over 90 and is deaf and blind. Oddly enough, she seemed to know I was there and keep looking directly at me. Strange. We got some good photos to send to the family in France though, and we took some of the old post office where Michel (Emmie's grandfather) used to work.
View from Claude's house
The Salado Family
We took a flight to our first camping stop - Ile des Pins. We started in the southwest side, camping at Rouleaux Bay. We pitched tent right by the beach and settled down into our daily routine of walking on the beach, going for a swim and cooking over a wood fire. We became the focus of attention of the local dogs and cats as well, partly because we couldn't resist feeding them. Gabi, the owner, is a huge muscled man carrying a big scary machete, who cuts coconuts in half with one lazy sweep of his arm. I relaxed after a while when I realised that he's a nice bloke. Also I realised that it made no difference that he had a machete, he could probably kill me with one hand tied behind his back anyway, so there wasn't any point stressing over it.
There is always a cat
The dogs (the 'Rouleaux Bay Pack') were a little aggressive and territorial initially. The female was the first to come up to greet us and take a left over tin of tuna from our hands. The Alpha was a bit more reluctant, barking at us whenever we approached the campsite. After a day or two he started to approach us warily, but he would still make a point of peeing on a rock in front of us, just to let us know whose land we were staying on.
We would walk regularly back and forward to Kuto Bay, through a forest path, where the water was a bit calmer and better for swimming. There we got to know another pack of dogs, the 'Kuto Bay Pack', two of whom escorted us back through the forest, one in front and the other behind, back to Rouleaux Bay. This was strange for me, and even more so for Emmie who had a bad childhood experience with dogs and gets uncomfortable in their presence. They didn't go into Rouleaux Bay with us of course, the canine demarcation lines being clearly drawn.
By this point we started getting some new 'friends'. The mosquitos came out in force. I had never seen anything like it - worse than Nong Khai. Apparently Gabi had recently done a big antimosquito treatment, and it seemed like it had just made them stronger and more vicious. We would eat with 6 mosquito coils burning around us, and we still got bitten. I covered myself in insect repellent, and they managed to bite me on the soles of my feet. When I covered those, they went for my face. I was running out of options so I covered myself in a long sleeve shirt and long trousers. They bit me on my knee through my trousers. This wasn't even at sunrise or sunset, this was ALL DAY. In the 20 seconds it took me to come out of the shower and put on repellent, I got 5 new bites. I was slapping my body as an instinctive reflex now, killing 3 at a time in one stroke, but they kept coming. We kept a mosquito coil burning in the tent as we entered and left it, but still in the 5 seconds it took to come out, 5 new mosquitos would come in. Every night, we spent 20 minutes just killing the mosquitos in the tent before going to sleep. The New Zealander in the tent next to us referred to it as a 'plague'. We started to spend more time in Kuto Bay during the day, where the mosquitos were (relatively) few.
Before we left the 'Rouleaux Bay Alpha' became comfortable enough with us that he started hanging around our tent and actually followed us (or more accurately, escorted us) on a walk all the way around the bay, the nearby Kuto Bay and beyond. He even followed us into the beach at Kuto Bay, the territory of the Kuto Bay Pack. That caused a bit of a problem. They immediately surrounded him and pushed him out into the water. Teeth were bared. It was going to get ugly. Rouleaux Bay Alpha was trying to stand his ground, but he knew he couldn't take on a 5 dog pack by himself, and was trying to back off while maintaining face. Emmie and I realised that, despite him not being our dog and despite us not asking him to follow, we couldn't just leave him in his predicament, and so I started to call him back to the main road off the beach and off the Kuto territory. Just then I see Emmie step right up to the Kuto Bay pack, shout 'Non!' with her hand up. And guess what? The Kuto Bay pack backed off.
Emmie, who is supposed to be afraid of dogs, after travelling around Asia for a few months, just faced down a pack of angry dogs. Impressive. She should teach secondary school kids. The Rouleaux Bay Alpha, tail between his legs and pride slightly dented, followed us back home. From that moment, he didn't just hang out with us... he became our best buddy. No more dog fear for Emmie.
After spending 4 days swimming, walking, living with the animals and slapping ourselves, we left for a campsite on the northeast side of the island, near the 'Piscine Naturelle' ('Natural Pool'). Before we left, we dropped of a few mosquito coils to the new arrivals at the campsite, and gave them a friendly warning to be prepared...
Playing a guitar, fighting mosquitos, Baie des Rouleaux
Sea view
Sunset by our tent
Our tent
The Piscine Naturelle is a natural lake made by sea waves breaking against a gap in the rocks, causing a pool of totally calm natural sea water, which flows inland like a reverse river. We would go swimming there everyday, wading through the water to reach the pool via a forest path smelling of vanilla and filled with crabs, and swimming with the fishes. The fish here are so used to you they would literally come and eat out of your hand. This was the best swimming experience so far on this whole trip.
Our campsite was run by a local Kanak chief and his daughters. Much fewer mosquitos, which came as a relief. Emmie got talking to the women and learned a lot of Kanak folklore from them. Including the story of the 'snake man', the man who turns into a sea snake, who is supposedly the ancestor of the chief. The Kanak people here seemed very different from those in Noumea... much more friendly, but since Iles des Pins is the most touristy of the islands, there is always a slight 'service provider/customer' relationship.
We ate bread and butter for breakfast, a delicious lunch of fish or chicken cooked by the campsite for lunch, and just some fruits for dinner. We tried a 'bougna' which is fish or chicken cooked with fruit and vegetables, wrapped up and placed underneath a mound of hot coals to stew. Nice.
On the first day we met some new arrivals. It turns out the guys who came to Roller Bay just after us stayed one night and couldn't handle the mosquitos, so they came to the northeast just after us. I felt a slight pride that we had lasted 4 days, albeit tempered with the pain of my swollen and itchy limbs.
Baie d'Oro, campsite near the Piscine Naturelle
Lunch by the backward river from the Piscine Naturelle
Wading the water to the pool
The walk with the crabs
The Piscine Naturelle itself
Chief's wife, making a Bougna
Walking to Upi Bay
Eating a coconut
Evening guitar
We returned back to Noumea for a few days, and then took a plane again for Ouvea, one of the Loyalty Islands of NC. When we arrived the place was amazingly empty. Hardly any tourists. With our packs on our backs, we started walking towards our campsite, only to be offered a lift by the first passing car. The Kanaks in Ouvea are incredibly nice, with not a trace of the tension apparent in Noumea. Many of them also look a little bit Indian. Apparently there is a large community of settlers from Pondicherry in NC, many of whom have interbred with the locals. We basically hitchhiked our way around Ouvea with no problems and got to really meet some locals.
I met one of the Kanak family who ran the campsite. It turns out that he is a bass player, and so we started chatting about bass techniques, players like Wooten, Miller, Pastorius etc. and before long I was in his 'case' (hut) exchanging slap bass riffs with him. I've found that two great ways to connect with people on this whole trip around the world are music and pool.
Slappin' da bass
Fayaoué campsite, Ouvéa
We hitched a lift to Lekine in the south part of Ouvea, where we stopped at a Snack (cafe) run by Starky and his family. We hit the beach, which was pristine and with no other tourists anywhere to be scene. We drank coconut, swam a little, and ate a meal of fish with coconut rice (rice cooked with coconut milk). Starky offered to take us on a walk to see the countryside, which we accepted. With a fishing line (for the smaller fish), a spear (for the larger fish like sharks), and a machete, we started walking inland. Pretty soon there wasn't much by way of a path, so I regretted a little bit that I was wearing only flip flops.
We reached the other side of the island, where the waves were big and scary, and it turned out that the tide was unexpectedly high (they believe it is a result of the Chilean earthquake), so instead of the east beach path, we had to take the 2 hour scramble of sharp corals. This was really had with my feet uncovered and pretty soon I was covered in coral cuts.
After walking for 2 hours, we reached the end of a path and looked up at Starky questioningly. He looked down at the giant waves smashing against the corals by our feet and said that we would rest a moment, then we would jump in. We laughed of course. He wasn't joking. Apparently the only way to cross to the other side was to wait until the waves calmed down for a second, jump in the water and swim/run around to the quieter part of the beach, before the waves came back and battered us to a mushy pulp against the corals.
I was scared. I'm not a good swimmer. Emmie was scared. She has a childhood phobia of big waves. Starky was scared. He is a good swimmer, but even for him this was really dangerous. We took some time to debate our options and decided that instead of taking the two hour walk back, which would get us back after dark, we would brave it. It took half an hour to get our composure, and then we waited for a break in the waves. The plan was that Starky would go first, then Emmie, then me. When the break came, Emmie ran on ahead. I waited for Starky to go, and when I realised that he wasn't going anywhere, I started to jump in. Starky stopped me, saying that it was too dangerous and it was too late - the waves had already picked up and were battering the rocks again, and my wife with them.
He was staring at Emmie foundering in the waves and he kept wincing in sympathy. Emmie went around the rocks and out of sight. We didn't know where she was and I was freaking out a little bit. Starky made me stay where I was and he ran ahead overland, and saw Emmie stuck standing on a rock in the middle of the insane turmoil, shaken but okay for the moment. He gave me the thumbs us, and I relaxed a little (until I realised that it was our turn next). He said, with a disturbingly nervous voice, that we needed to 'really RUN' this time.
When the time came, we did. It wasn't fast enough... half way along we had to take shelter by holding ourselves against the corals, taking the cuts, for the sake of... well... not dying. The next gap we picked up Emmie from her rock, and made it to the other side, breathing a sigh of relief in the calm waters. Aside from a few coral cuts, some wet books in Emmie's bag, and one lost shoe, we were alive. I was even too happy to be annoyed at Emmie for not sticking to the plan (apparently she had worked her nerves up so much she just wanted to get it out of the way). Anyway, nothing like the risk of death to make you feel that you are alive.
And that was how Emmie faced childhood phobia #2 - big wave fear. Mind you, I wouldn't recommend doing it in quite such an extreme fashion. Its a bit like getting over your fear of snakes by jumping in a pit of poisonous cobras.
On the otherside we stopped at a cathedral that had been made inside a cave, and went snorkeling a little in the calm waters. Then we made it back overland, stopping off to try some NC 'bush tucker' - like germinated coconut. By the time we got back, we had been gone for 5 hours for a walk that normally took 2 hours. After calming down Starky's wife, who had been worried, we hitched a ride back (with an old couple - the husband looked a lot like an uncle of mine).
Beach at Lekine
Starky cutting sugar cane for us
Wading the waters
Clambering over razor sharp corals for 2 hours
Waves... not nearly as big as what we swam in
Still alive on the other side
Natural cathedral in a cave
The next day we came back to Starky's Snack. We had lunch with Starky and his dad. We learned the reason for the differences between the Kanak culture in Noumea and that of Ouvea. Apparently, Ouvea retains a form of Kanak self governance in the original Kanak tribu culture, where the Kanaks are answerable to the tribal chief, and the society works much as it did before the colonisation, and people are for the most part happy. In Noumea, however, the Kanak's have lost the tribu system, and their tribu culture clashes with the caldoche society. They are not compatible systems. This is the reason for the problems as he sees them - the Kanak young population are lost between 2 cultures. Hence all the drinking and aggression... there are no tribal elders to bring them back in line.
We left Ouvea and spent a couple of days back in Noumea, recovering and hanging out with Claude and Thi Theu. And here ends the New Caledonia adventure. Off to Kiwiland.
Some photos from Grande Terre...
Yaté lake, the far south
Goro
Learning to break coconuts from Claude
Butterfly
Cagou, the national bird, from a nature reserve in Noumea
Fruitbat
Noumea
Dancing with Thi Theu
