With the sun warming my toes inside my mosquito net I got up feeling a scoach tired. These feelings were quickly dispelled as I was completing my crossword on the veranda and was invited to go spear fishing by my favourite Fijian. I requested that he teach me and he rather surprisingly agreed! Full of enthusiasm I bounded down to their small boat with flippers and snorkel in hand (colour coordinated in a racy blue for anyone that's interested).

With my first try I caught a fish and couldn't have been happier, despite it being the size of a custard cream biscuit. However, I was quick to point out that I had clearly hit a minuscule target and held a lot of promise when it came to the spear fishing game. The spear gun itself consisted of a long, thin, metal pole that was notched at the end like an arrow where a rounded point glistened at the opposite end. The spear was propelled from a rudimental device that fitted in the hand, it was basically a thick piece of rubber tube with a band of cloth at one end which fitted over the index finger and a loop at the other end made of fishing wire which you notched the spear into. The force you could generate was surprising and the spear flew away as if it had been thrown by a Russian shot putter. By the end of a fast hour I had caught two fish and would have enjoyed staying a little longer.

Also, whilst out spear fishing I finally saw a fully grown white tip reef shark, kept as cool as a lettuce, obviously. In all honesty the shark was only just over a metre long but if I hadn't been told that they were harmless I would have freaked out and ran on top of the water back to the boat; with a single swish of its tail it could rocket through the water at a startling pace.

Rushing for our ferry after so long fishing we all felt really sad leaving; the magnificent hospitality and extended hand of family in such a short time makes the whole experience feel much longer. As the family stood on the shore and waved us off after much hugging and back slapping we headed out to our ferry which was waiting for us in the next Cove.

We arrived back at the familiar surroundings of Bamboo Backpackers, this time staying in a dorm room that was unfavourably damp due to some dweeb tampering with the air conditioning, after complaining that the room was too cold - we're in Fiji you imbecile, its scorching!

With wifi finally within our grasp again we set upon where to go next. We decided to head to a secluded Fijian village called, Navala. It is extremely tricky to get to as it's in the highlands but luckily Mary (our bubbly tourist officer) had a few contacts that managed to sort out some arrangements for us. Navala village here we come!