I got to the Rabaul airport at 6:30 am, only to find out
that my 7:15 am flight had been delayed until 8:30 am. Hey, no problem; this is
PNG and I am just glad it was not cancelled all together. Of course I fell
asleep in the waiting hall, and you can well imagine my panic when I awoke with
a start, alone but for a couple of ladies, seeing the PNG Air plane taxiing out
to the runway. I was ready to dash myself across the runway, but one of the
ladies stopped me and assured me that this was not our flight. With trembling
hands I pulled out my ticket and she confirmed that our flight to Hoskins was
not taking off for another hour. I said something about how it would make sense
for the airline to wake up the lonely sleeping passenger in the hall, but she
countered with “But everybody knows you were going to Hoskins, so there was no
need to disturb you.” Hmpf! Why is it that everybody seems to know my business
here? Of course I fell asleep again, but this time my good Samaritan woke me up
when we started boarding.
Once landed I took my PMV to Kimbe (front seat again 😊) and I had just started
to walk toward my hotel when a random nice guy stopped by my side and offered
me a ride to my hotel. Lovely! Once there Julie and the rest of the staff
received me like the long lost son, and each one of them pumped my hand in
welcome. Of course the good-for-nothing manager had not arranged anything for
me, so I changed into my swimming suit and headed to the highway to take the
PMV to Walindi Plantation Resort, which I understood had tours. I had to go to
the center of town to take the PMV Route 1, but once again got front seat
privileges. The driver was doing his business and didn’t engage in
conversation, but was clearly measuring me up. Walindi is a tiny village way
out there, so I had the chance to admire the oil palm plantations, some of the
sleekest cattle I have ever seen, and the mountains in the background.
At Walindi I arranged a hike to the volcano tomorrow
morning, and a snorkeling trip in the afternoon for very decent money. I also
decided to get lunch there, during which I met the owner, and a charming family
from El Salvador. Luis is the General Manager of the Puma Refinery in POM, and
had to come to Kimbe to attend to some issue with the port storage facilities,
so he had brought his wife and their 7-year old son along to make a weekend of
it. He gave me his phone in POM, just in case my flight is cancelled and I get
stuck in POM for the day. Nice people.
Then it was time to come back, and as I stepped unto the
highway who shall I see but the same PMV I had taken on the way in. The driver
called me and invited me to take the front seat, and as we crossed the little
village of Walindi proudly showed me the new elementary school, told me about
the town (he happens to live here), and stopped in the middle of the street to
introduce me to his wife. Then he turned around and we headed back to Kimbe
engaged in a tasty conversation. He dropped me off right in front of my hotel,
and the whole of the PMV waved goodbye and wished me a good trip. Now … twice I
have been brought to the door of my hotel, by people I had never seen before.
How did they know? I think the whole town now knows I am here, and they have
collectively adopted “the Mexican”. I am not going to complain about that.
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