Liz went to bed early and I read. Every so often Liz conducted a bed search, she was being bitten in bed and the mossy net was firmly tucked in. Despite numerous detailed searches nothing could be seen.

The next day I awoke to Liz scratching, poor thing was covered in itchy bites. I had to say something despite feeling bad. John and Sissy (his wife) said they are caused by ants or something called "Stink Billy". The matress was taken outside to be zapped by the sun and the bedding washed. Armed with a full aerosol can of insect spray Liz emptied this onto the bare bed. Despite being a vegetarian anything that bites deserves to die, you could see the imprint of the aerosol can on Lizes finger (she was pressing that hard).

This place is completely mad, later that morning I heard some shouting coming from outside. Imagine a 100ft tree the highest in sight and the outline of the leaves, a man was waving at me from above this outline at the very top of the tree. I cannot imagine how on earth he could be there, the branches surely must be very weak at that height - but there he was and he was waving.

After lunch (taro, sweet potato and plantine) we headed off to the beach. It normally takes a while to get through the village, simply because you have to have a chat with anyone in sight and wave at the kids who depending on age would run away or greet us back.

We did a long walk along a pristine and very beautiful black beach, if this was white you would see it in those glossy brouchures. Black ones make a nice change for me, waves appear in stark contrast and all the black heats up the water very nicely.

Towards the end of the beach we got another good look at the volcanos. From this angle they are completely green with sharp ridges. Some volcanic rock near the beach had lots of names engraved but were now completely hard (curious was this done when the rocks were still soft?).

We got back to a treat, young coconuts to drink from and the promise of eggs for dinner. We sat down at the usual spot over looking the garden and main road (as I write this I have seen the first vehicle on it since we have been here). Liz pointed out the cute pigs that were snuffling around. Later I heard the familiar sound of a pig going to meet it's maker.

We are starting to get into a pattern, sit and watch the occasional grapefruit type thing fall with a thud to the ground and wave at the villagers walking past, with no clear purpose (perhaps just to wave at us). Nothing happens quickly here, the technician that was coming by boat to set up the satellite dish is now coming by plane due to the heavy seas (no one knows when). They will probally get it working after the world cup when they will have to give it back.

They have a very simple life, a seasonal chart shows the days of drought, and when vegatables can be harvested. The people are almost completely self sufficient. We suggested to John that he can use the baked beans and soup we brought. John has since been asking us if we want baked beans with our meals but they don't prepare the beans. One day whilst Liz was heating up the beans, John was paying a particular interest and wanted to know how we cook them. Even though baked beans can be found in most of Vanuatu he has never seen them (just wait until he sees soup).

We must be living in slow motion just like the locals. We hardly do anything but seem to run out of time doing nothing - if that makes sence.

Back to Seven Years in Tibet (the book), and then torches out.