Place That I’d Like To Visit #11

Pago Pago, American Samoa

My wife has been hassling me to do a new place that I’d like to visit, so here we go. The capital of American Samoa, Pago Pago is a village located on the island of Tutuila. And yet another town where the harbour is surrounded by impressive cliffs for my list (I can’t help myself, I know).

Unlike Western Samoa, American Samoa appears to have limited tourist infrastructure catering mostly to businessmen, locals visiting from abroad and the occasional eco-tourist enthusiast seeking out the rainforests and archaeological sites. Thus, visiting offers a challenge and an opportunity.

The deep water harbour itself is a collapsed volcanic crater, and the town of Pago Pago holds less than 4000 residents, a couple of banks, some shops, restaurants, a museum with a collection of ancient Samoan artefacts and a few government departments, oh and there is the yacht club at Utulei.

Outside of town, you’ve got your tropical rainforest, fine beaches, swimming and snorkelling, as well as a few bars.

Apparently there is also quicksand on Tutuila, so that would something to amuse Henry, and porpoise or sea turtles lurk all around the island. Terribly inappropriate as well, but part of my interest is the Crash Bandicoot vibe that amuses me, I reckon that I could cope with jumping a few crates of nitro just to eat a few whoompa fruit.

Comments

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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