coconut and coral in the middle of woop woop: It's touch down to Bonriki International airport

Five and a half months in the making and a world away from Sydney life it was touch down to Bonrki International airport on South Tarawa.

The hundreds and hundreds of dollars paid in excess luggage and customs confiscation of “goods” (read “expensive”) were starting to seem insignificant as the airstrip came into view. There seemed to be as many kids using the airstrip as a playground as were on our full plane made up mostly of locals returning home. The airstrip makes use of the widest point on this atoll, 400 meters if you are lucky, maybe low tide offers some confidence to those who think a dose of worry or concern is going to be of any help.

I was starting to wonder if any of the smiling flight crew who confidently demonstrated the use of inflatable life vests could tell me how comfortable they were or if the whistles were tuned! Air traffic control were terrific, no kids, dogs or pigs appeared to be injured by our arrival, no waiting for a landing bay and we were soon on the lands of the I-Kiribati people. Given there are only 2 flights a week from the big smoke (Fiji) this provides an occasion for the kids on school holidays and locals to meet and greet returning family and friends and check out the rest of us. As we pile off the plane we are requested to collect an “arrival form” from someone on the ground. Great, paper work to collect while carrying on board luggage that far exceeds the weight allowance, scrambling for sunglasses and being hit with a blanket of moist heat !

Forms completed and into the international airport terminal. We were greeted with two visa lines, a baggage handling system that would see Aussie baggage handlers keel over with a crook back before lifting an esky, and a customs desk that I initially thought was a coffin ! Yes, it was hot and muggy and I had had one glass of wine on the plane but whoever made those thigh high desks from which bags are opened and checked has probably made resting boxes for the deceased at some stage.

The chaos appeared normal and comfortable.

Locals opened eskys big enough to hold a school of fish for the customs folks to check, no fish inside, but yes that is what they are mostly used for.

I had 40 plus kilo of stuff including almonds and legumes, hmm, food or seeds, they will be which ever is the quickest and easiest to get through customs. I’m sure the customs folks really didn’t want to see what I-matang (foreigner) brings to this country of fish and rice, and I for one was happy for them to be having an easy day. The well travelled couple in our group were right, see what’s happening for the locals, wait at the end of the queue and send our very chatty group member to test the waters. Bingo, we told customs what we had to declare, they didn’t want to see or taste my almonds or chocolate, all our bags remained unopened and they are probably still wondering what all those words were that the “chatter box” was carrying on about.

We were given a visa for 11 days, albeit all of us are here for a year or more. “You’re working where & why ? OK, take your documents to (god knows where) and you’ll get a visa for a longer period. Maybe the 11 day stamp was the only one they had or was just their favourite.

Several in our group took this waiting around opportunity to use the local facilities, or maybe better put, who had forgotten to use the aircraft bathroom when available. The toilets had a wonderful pictorial sign that included a woman with the best calves I have seen, a year of squatting and I’m reckoning mine will look like that too. Ok it’s off to the loo. The ladies bathroom door is locked, not sure if someone is locked in or we are locked out, no problems use the other one suggests the customs fellow. With a buddy on watch I find the men's bathroom, it has a western toilet and no paper, and yes it flushes, you get to see where it all goes as you leave the bathroom along with the waving kids who are still hanging on the fence long after the plane had arrived.

Mauri Mauri.