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Robert Louis Stevenson’s house - Samoa (video)
Simon is accused of being a British spy before escaping to the remote house, and grave, of Scottish novelist Robert Louis Stevenson.
Having arrived in the Samoan capital of Apia, I checked myself in to the 1848 Princess Tui guesthouse. This is a fine old colonial house, clean and friendly, big and sprawling. And it’s pretty reasonably priced too, and on a lengthy trip like this one, it’s very much my sort of place.
Having freshened up after the flight in from Tonga (during which I had to fill out a form, confirming I came from the nation of Great Brian), I set out to sample Apia’s nightlife. After sampling a couple or three of the local beers at the truly exquisite Vailima, I find myself in conversation with a local fellow. He asked me what I thought of the place, and where I was staying. The conversation then took a curious turn.
“And what’re you doing here?” he asked.
“Making a film about the South Pacific,” I replied honestly.
“Do you have permission? From the Government?”
“Erm... no.”
“What about the Tourist Authority?” he asked, starting to sound worryingly officious.
“No. I just...”
“You must have permission,” he persisted. “Where are you staying?” he asked again, his beer consumption happily blotting out the earlier conversation.
“Erm...” I feigned, adopting my most affable Brit-abroad persona.
“Are you a spy?” was his next, and final, question. And it elicited a cheery “Good night” from me, followed by a hasty departure. Spying? What would or could I (or anyone, for that matter) possibly spy on in Samoa? Coconut-growing techniques? Whatever, and as innocuous as I’m sure it all was, I believe it’s never a good thing having a pissed-up local calling you a spy. You just never know where it’ll lead...
Having freshened up after the flight in from Tonga (during which I had to fill out a form, confirming I came from the nation of Great Brian), I set out to sample Apia’s nightlife. After sampling a couple or three of the local beers at the truly exquisite Vailima, I find myself in conversation with a local fellow. He asked me what I thought of the place, and where I was staying. The conversation then took a curious turn.
“And what’re you doing here?” he asked.
“Making a film about the South Pacific,” I replied honestly.
“Do you have permission? From the Government?”
“Erm... no.”
“What about the Tourist Authority?” he asked, starting to sound worryingly officious.
“No. I just...”
“You must have permission,” he persisted. “Where are you staying?” he asked again, his beer consumption happily blotting out the earlier conversation.
“Erm...” I feigned, adopting my most affable Brit-abroad persona.
“Are you a spy?” was his next, and final, question. And it elicited a cheery “Good night” from me, followed by a hasty departure. Spying? What would or could I (or anyone, for that matter) possibly spy on in Samoa? Coconut-growing techniques? Whatever, and as innocuous as I’m sure it all was, I believe it’s never a good thing having a pissed-up local calling you a spy. You just never know where it’ll lead...
Happily I wasn’t woken at three in the morning by some government goon hoofing my door open, so I headed south of the capital to investigate an unexpected delight of the South Pacific. And it’s named after my new favourite drink, Vailima.
The Travel Editor Recommends: TheTravelEditor recommends an amazing, and remote, beach resort on Upolu Island in Samoa. Stay in a traditional, hand-made beachhut known as a "fale", go snorkelling, learn to weave a coconut leaf basket and in general learn to 'slow down' and go at the island's pace. This resort also has great eco-credentials. Click here for details.
Useful links
Stay in a Samoan beachhut resort from ResponsibleTravel.com
Added 2008/03/08 @ 22:27:04
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