Dear reader, I have truly been missing in action. The man of the trucks (MOTT) and I have returned safely from our first overseas adventure, safe but firmly bitten by the travel bug.
The dirt, dust and litter was at first overwhelming, and yet, once I met the local members of the Revival Fellowship, I was overwhelmed by an immediate connection.
My first impression of Honiara was a crazy taxi ride from the airport to the motel. We packed into a small station wagon with “TAXI” stenciled onto the door and took off at break neck speed. Driving lanes on the highway were apparently only marked as a suggestion, as trucks, mini buses, what seemed like hundreds of taxi’s and flash 4WD’s jockeyed for position and nosed their way onto packed roundabouts. No speed limit, seat belts or rules about riding on top of loaded trucks. We raced along, past small ramshackle markets, held under awnings, shacks and even brightly coloured umbrellas. Thongs being the national footwear, and if you are unfortunate enough to have one break, then you can continue on, with one. At first everything seemed totally insane, but by the time we left it felt vital and alive rather than dingy and scary. It’s amazing how perceptions can change so quickly when you get to know individuals.
So reader, I’m sure you can understand why I’ve begun working on a mystery set in this enigmatic wonderland. Can you fail to imagine how it would feel to walk past those pineapples? Those pineapples are the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted by the way. Did I tell you about the fruit? I’ve never tasted anything like it reader, our Australian fruit tastes like someone forgot to put in the flavour.
Sorry reader, back to my story. So while “On the River Bank” sits and proves, I have plotted out a possible short story, a mystery, set in the hubbub of Honiara’s busy streets and markets.
So stay tuned reader, I may just publish it here, for you to read, I’ll think about that for a bit, but right now, it seems like a good idea.