The three of us walked around Lautoka on the morning of Tim's birthday, and we happened to find a public carnival. It was a simple neighborhood fair that we've all seen as children.
The night of Tim's birthday was the blow out that it was supposed to be. And then some. We rinsed and repeated the following day at a fund raiser for Lautoka's over-60 field hockey team, containing such characters as this guy:
He's a native Fijian that says that he's 75, but I don't believe him.
Walking home, we didn't have much luck hailing a cab, so Tim flagged down the local police troop carrier that happened to be passing by. This was, with no exaggeration, only the third time that I had seen a police officer during my week on the island.
The officers already had a couple of local Fijians in the front seat, so they tossed us in the back, and asked where we were heading. Tim gave them directions in Fijian, and they happily gave us a ride. Very happily, by the way. I think that they were pretty excited to have some fresh meat in the truck.
This probably wasn't one of our better decisions, but Tim said that he had hitched a ride with them before. Apparently, they're quite bored. Here's us in the back with a riot officer and three of Tim's Peace Corps friends.
I look ridiculous.
The next morning, we packed our bags and said our goodbyes (through the hangover to end all hangovers). We hung out at a local beach by the airport until we had to go check in.
Sam caught his flight back home, and I left for Melbourne (where I'm sitting now).
All in all, not a bad run.
