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Entering Port Vila's downtown on a sleepy Sunday afternoon,
the feeling is that of a typical south pacific island capital.
A difficult compromise between the local traditions and the
dominant influence of
western business and tourism.
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After a tropical downpour, the view
over the bay is not quite enough to wake up the jet-lagged
tourist.
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Nothing like getting away from Port Vila's package vacationers,
and trying some adventure on the other islands. The national
air carrier is perhaps basic, but reliable.
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My first view of Espiritu Santo from the air, through the
scratched glass of the airplane window. Coral reefs, and deep blue:
exactly what I was looking for.
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Most of the dives on Santo start from here: where the blue begins,
the wreck of the Coolidge rests. The american ship is the largest
wreck accessible to recreational scuba divers. And to freedivers,
like this writer.
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Million Dollar Point deserves its name. In the shallow water, the
departing US military dumped incredible amounts of supplies at the
end of World War II. From vintage coke bottles, to jeeps and whole
trucks: the occasional turtle goes well unnoticed.
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Blue holes are one of the attractions on Santo. This one at Malevulu
is crystal clear and permits joyful splashing as well as Tarzan-like
tree-diving.
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On a bay in North-Eastern Santo, Elephant Island shapes the horizon
over the canopy of the rainforest.
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Another attraction, and one that you cannot avoid even if you
try to, is Champagne beach. Indeed, a sparkling beauty.
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Shade from sunshine or umbrella against rain: you choose.
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Rainforest around Hog Harbour. Within a short distance, the vegetation
changes from grass to fruit trees to a thick curtain of trees which
soon becomes basically impassable. Just sit down and let the animals
get used to you: the sound of the forest is incredible.
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No crowds at the Lonnoc Beach bungalows. In fact, I was the only guest.
And didn't stay long either: after two days during which the "staff"
forgot about me, I had to find a way out in search for food.
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The Santo airport is quite advanced for a secondary south Pacific
island. Flight all booked out? No worries, just sit down and hope.
It worked for me.
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With a few days left and little diving except the repetitive Coolidge,
I decided to follow the advice of an aussie expat and tried my luck at
Hideaway island. I did not regret it. Drop offs and corals in the water,
enough people around on land without being a crowd.
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The ferry shuttles visitors to the island during day, and luckily takes
them away in the evening.
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Hideaway Island coastline. Little beyond the moored boats, the bottom
drops to 50 m and more. And closer to shore, the one and only (for now)
underwater post office.
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Early morning, waiting for another dive.
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You can't have a south pacific island with any decent
number of tourists, without traditional
dances. Whether you fancy warrior themes...
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... or legends and story-telling...
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... it all ends inevitably with the one thing that unites
all people on this planet: food.
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It's been a strange, intense, amazing holiday on Vanuatu.
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As always, the time comes to leave.
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