It was one of those week long holidays that couldn't possibly have been any worse.
My very best friend Kylie and I decided to take a break from our respective families and find an exotic location to "chill" for a week. Both having young children, we didn't want it to be too far away, but we did want it to be a slight adventure. As in - limited English.
Noumea was the perfect choice. A South Pacific Island only a few hours flight from Sydney where we could practice our school girl French.
On arrival at the airport, we were confused by the different coloured cards to complete which saw us ending up at the back of the queue for more than an hour. Every time we presented a card, we were told we needed to complete a different colour one... until we came full circle with the colour we had completed in the first place.
My luggage was nowhere to be seen, and hand gesturing to the airport staff that my "black" bag was missing, they laughed. Every bag was a "black" bag they said, and it took another hour to locate said "black" bag... behind the counter. Exactly where we were standing only an hour earlier asking if anyone had seen my "black" bag!
After a few hours in sweaty tropical heat, we eventually made our way through immigration to learn that our pre-arranged transport had left us stranded - right in the middle of tropical-nowhere. So we hired a taxi, a very expensive one!
But we didn't care. We were on a break and this all added to the adventure of our week long freedom.
We arrived at our hotel for check in slightly exhausted, but still laughing only to discover that our reservation was not confirmed and we didn't have a room. The hotel could not possibly accommodate us at such short notice! The check in clerk was adamant that we would not be sleeping there at all for the week, and we would need to find alternate accomodation. Until Kylie pulled out the printed confirmation slip with our details. We were promptly shown to our room and then later realised we were one of very few guests due to extensive renovations. Noisy ones.
The large hotel pool provided respite from the heat, and an opportunity to burn our lily white complexions completely red.
The small cafe served ridiculously expensive chicken sandwiches (on white Tip Top bread with manky lettuce) at a cost of AUD30 and was served by a rude waiter who thought throwing a plate at us was within his remit. We 'thanked him" using swear words.
We ventured out for a walk along the promenade and into the touristy heaven of beach front souvenir shops. Only to learn that we probably couldn't afford any of the tiny plastic take-home junky pieces. Our children would not know the joy of owning a snow dome of Isle de Pine, or a plastic surfboard keyring.
Everywhere, the locals scowled at our attempts to talk in school-girl French, many of the well dressed women tut-tutting and turning their backs to ignore us. It made us try even harder to impress them resulting in uncontrollable giggles.
On more than one occasion, we returned to our room and lay on our beds and laughed at how much the ridiculous week was costing us - yet we were having so much fun. We laughed at each other laughing (Kylie does the silent airless laugh, and I tend to snort and cry), rolling around on the beds until our mouths hurt and our ribs cracked.
I dont remember too many more details of the Noumea adventure, except that there is probably a poster of each of us in the arrival lounge - it is very likely that we are not be permitted entry to this expensive and arrogant paradise ever again.
And thats ok.
My very best friend Kylie and I decided to take a break from our respective families and find an exotic location to "chill" for a week. Both having young children, we didn't want it to be too far away, but we did want it to be a slight adventure. As in - limited English.
Noumea was the perfect choice. A South Pacific Island only a few hours flight from Sydney where we could practice our school girl French.
On arrival at the airport, we were confused by the different coloured cards to complete which saw us ending up at the back of the queue for more than an hour. Every time we presented a card, we were told we needed to complete a different colour one... until we came full circle with the colour we had completed in the first place.
My luggage was nowhere to be seen, and hand gesturing to the airport staff that my "black" bag was missing, they laughed. Every bag was a "black" bag they said, and it took another hour to locate said "black" bag... behind the counter. Exactly where we were standing only an hour earlier asking if anyone had seen my "black" bag!
After a few hours in sweaty tropical heat, we eventually made our way through immigration to learn that our pre-arranged transport had left us stranded - right in the middle of tropical-nowhere. So we hired a taxi, a very expensive one!
But we didn't care. We were on a break and this all added to the adventure of our week long freedom.
We arrived at our hotel for check in slightly exhausted, but still laughing only to discover that our reservation was not confirmed and we didn't have a room. The hotel could not possibly accommodate us at such short notice! The check in clerk was adamant that we would not be sleeping there at all for the week, and we would need to find alternate accomodation. Until Kylie pulled out the printed confirmation slip with our details. We were promptly shown to our room and then later realised we were one of very few guests due to extensive renovations. Noisy ones.
The large hotel pool provided respite from the heat, and an opportunity to burn our lily white complexions completely red.
The small cafe served ridiculously expensive chicken sandwiches (on white Tip Top bread with manky lettuce) at a cost of AUD30 and was served by a rude waiter who thought throwing a plate at us was within his remit. We 'thanked him" using swear words.
We ventured out for a walk along the promenade and into the touristy heaven of beach front souvenir shops. Only to learn that we probably couldn't afford any of the tiny plastic take-home junky pieces. Our children would not know the joy of owning a snow dome of Isle de Pine, or a plastic surfboard keyring.
Everywhere, the locals scowled at our attempts to talk in school-girl French, many of the well dressed women tut-tutting and turning their backs to ignore us. It made us try even harder to impress them resulting in uncontrollable giggles.
On more than one occasion, we returned to our room and lay on our beds and laughed at how much the ridiculous week was costing us - yet we were having so much fun. We laughed at each other laughing (Kylie does the silent airless laugh, and I tend to snort and cry), rolling around on the beds until our mouths hurt and our ribs cracked.
I dont remember too many more details of the Noumea adventure, except that there is probably a poster of each of us in the arrival lounge - it is very likely that we are not be permitted entry to this expensive and arrogant paradise ever again.
And thats ok.
Me + Kylie
This was taken years before the Noumea adventure - probably in Bali.
