Storms

Failing pirate school: Getting to Niutao

Failing pirate school: Getting to Niutao

Cannonball and Uncle Bulgaria dragged us away from the growing crowds, up the gently sloping beach, and onto the back of a waiting pickup truck which then drove us all of 300m down the dirt track which passes as the main road, to the room which I was to call home for the next six weeks.  That first night we were treated like kings and welcomed into the community like long lost brothers.  A feast had been prepared, and my stomach rejoiced at the thought of some sustenance after being empty for almost three days – little did I know that this was to begin the longest food binge I have ever been asked to undertake

Water, Water Everywhere, But Not A Drop To Drink

Water, Water Everywhere, But Not A Drop To Drink

The storm did mean quite a bumpy ride for myself and the other 28 passengers, but a bit of turbulence was nothing to worry about, particularly as the tiny plane we were currently sitting on, was in two hours time, hopefully going to land us on the tiny island nation of Tuvalu – a country recently plagued by epic water shortages, resulting in a state of national emergency, and aid being delivered from a number of neighbouring countries.