March Fletch and I have found ourselves a wonderful little island paradise: Mana Island, Fiji. Mana is Fijian for “magic,” and it is indeed magic; it never rains here. The island is a long, narrow stretch of sand, with a ridge of hills down the middle to protect us from whatever storms might try to approach from the north. Our south side is protected by a gorgeous reef that is home to not even half of the dive sites we frequent. There are no roads here, and thus no need for transportation. There really isn’t even any need for shoes.
DEN to SFO Fletch and I arrived at the airport at 4am, an early hour that I would normally never see except in a dream. Traveling changes everything though. I’ll wake up at any hour for the promise of a new adventure. In about 50 hours we would be in our new home, Palau. From the research that both of us had done regarding this tiny island nation, neither one of us expected to stop in Palau for more than a couple of months; too many small factors were piling up, but those were just from reading. Reading is a far cry