American Samoa is a fine place to be, but not to far from here, there is a nicer, bigger and cheaper heaven, known with different names: Western Samoa, Independent Samoa or simply Samoa. For us, going to Samoa (to be more precise, in the island of Upolu, the other island, Savai’I is much wilder) is like going to New York. There is a road that runs in a circle all around the island, and it takes more than 3 hours to run it all. There is the big “City” (still not sure if it can be defined like that, but definitely much bigger than the villages we have here) of Apia, with lots of shops, restaurants, nightclub… and there are tourists, germans, kiwis, aussies… and a couple of markets that sell local produces and tourists attraction (that is, wonderful beaches where you can wear a bikini and get some sun EVEN on your belly!). Last weekend, I caught up with Mia and Pietro in Apia (they have been in Samoa for a week, mainly exploring Savai’I), and I though you may enjoy a photographic diary of the trip.
Friday
The trip stars at the Pago Pago airport (located in Tafuna). The people from the company weight your bags, they weight you, and then they decide where you are going to seat, and if your bags will make it on this plane or on the next one. Just for fun, I ask them at what gate I need to go. They answer “Gate 7”. I laugh, thinking they are kidding as we have no gates here, just a big waiting room. But actually they are right, there is a gate (looks stolen from some Chinese garden) you need to pass through before entering. And there it goes, a sign that says “Gate 7”. 
I think about it a bit as I am flying to Apia, smashed against the window by 2 ladies that only occupy 2 seats and ½, and all the aisle … “maybe “gate 1” sounded to limiting. “gate 2”, too small, “gate 3”, no the number 3 is a holy number, better do not use it, “gate 4” too banal, “gate 5” that could work, but, ehi wait, “gate 7”!! Sounds so much cooler!!”.
The plane is small, maybe seats 20, and you can see what the pilots are doing all the time. Usually they read newspapers (both pilots at the same time), 
play with the computer, or text with the cell phone. All between one correction and the other of the plane trajectory. This time, a wonderful sunset bewitches you...
You fly across Upolu, to land on the western tip of the island. The view is impressive, the reefs, the mountains and the waterfalls… you know already you are in such a different world! And here you can buy everything with Talas, that go why farther than the dollars go and so you can actually afford to have fun!
I land around 7:00pm on Friday night, and take a taxi to my favorite Indian restaurant in Apia where Mia, Pietro, and Paul are waiting for me. I love Indian food!
Paul buys a bottle of red wine from the next pub (they cannot sell alcohol in the restaurant, but you are welcome to bring your own), I get very tipsy with just a glass… it has been a long week and I did not have enough sleep… We eat a wonderful starter, but after ½ hours wait, the waiter comes and tells us “sorry, we cannot cook your meal because the water it is not working anymore…”. It is already getting late, but, aua le popole, no problem, Apia is full of nice places to go… we run down to Giordano’s for a great pizza! I am in holiday, yeah!Saturday
Paul leaves early Saturday morning for a training in Australia, Mia and I head for the market, and Pietro start worrying about being left alone with 2 women that want to go shopping. The market is wonderful; there are all sort of local produces, mats, kava’s bowls, Vailima t-shirts, hearings, necklaces… Pietro volunteers to go to change Mia’s ticket as we keep shopping. Mia decided not to come back with me on Monday, but to stay here until Friday, so she can see more of Upolu. By the time we finished shopping, I am exhausted, and the baggage I had with me is full with goodies (no plastic bags please) and looks like a cornucopia.
In the afternoon we go home to relax, sleep, do some work, and at night we walk back to the Indian restaurant… I hope they got their water problem fixed by now…
Sunday
Sunday is our Manono day. Manono is a very small island with 4 villages next to the airport, advertised as"no vehicles, no road, no dogs". The kids from the resort we are spending the night at come to pick us up with their fishing boat at the bar that also works as the Manono wharf. 
The day is sunny and I think I may finally get some tan… I am soon flying to Italy; my friends there hardly believe I live in a tropical island when they see how white I am… I realized that the kids on the boat are not just cruising along, but their work is to empty the boat from all the water it takes in from holes…
Of course, as soon as we arrived, we are served food. It is Sunday and the family prepared the Toanai, which is the traditional meal cooked in the Umu (a sort of ground oven)… fresh coconut cream with taro leaves, my favorite… and the fales where we sleep are just so nice, right in the water… but it is Sunday too, and we cannot go swimming, walking or do anything else, so we are constrict to a forced relaxing day, reading a book, enjoying the view, do some more work and playing domino with the kids…
Monday
It’s Monday!!! We can walk, swim… what else? Well, the island is small, that is about it… so we walk around the island, they say it takes only ½ hour to go around, but it took us at least 2 hours.
We took lots of pictures, of the island, of silver-painted coconuts,
and of the ass of a Holland guy that came all the way down here to get a traditional tattoo ("excuse me, can i take a picture of your ass?" "Sure, take one of my inner tight too, look!"). Very interesting…
And then the kids takes up out on the reed for some snorkeling, the water is so crystal blue… what a holiday! I would have not come here if Mia had told me before she was not coming back with me, I do have plenty of work to do before I leave and I did not really wanted to take a break. But now I am so glad I did come. I enjoyed being with them and seeing all this so much.
My flight supposedly leaves at 4:30, so, soon after lunch, we take the boat back to Upolo and head to the airport. “Oh, sorry, no, you will fly out with the 8:00pm plane”. None flies that late at night here, I do not believe them, but what else can I do… oh yeah, there is a nice tourist resort close by, let’s go to get a pinya colada! If there is something I really learned here, is to accept events and people for what they are and how they come. Well, of course sometimes I fail and get frustrated, but I also definitely learned to come up with a back up plan is case the world decides not to collaborate with me. At the resort I also finally meet Giovanni (I literally ran after him and stopped him in the car!), one of the 4 italians living here. He is wonderful, and now I know where to go to watch the games next World Cup.
I do leave at 8:00 as I was told. As soon as we take off, the pilots turned off all lights, with the exception of those 2 blinking one on the wings. Usually on the planes, the pilots always leaves some sort of low light lights.. this plane clearly has none, so, it is either light or no complete darkness. We now are on a pitch-black plane, on a pitch-black night. It feels fearful and good at the same time.
It is late, and it is neither Thursday nor Sunday. As expected, as we arrive there is none at the customs to wait for us. Somebody removed the “Terminating passenger” sign (how could they?!?!) and replaced it with a fancy “Welcome to AS” sign.
We passenger, wait for a second behing the custom line, we know we are not supposed to cross it without showing our passport… but we are also not going to spend the night at the airport... oh well, we are going to do the custom another time, I am one of the first one to cross the line, and all the other passenger follow me. Oh wait, Leota, one of the passengers, is actually the airport manager and is going to look for somebody. , We get our stamp on the passport. “Sorry, no baggage today, they will come on one of tomorrow’s flights”. Only Leota’s bags made it.
My trucktosaurus is still there, and that is good, I go straight home to bed.
What a great long weekend.
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