The West Coast or Bust

Although Tonga’s capital, Nuku’alofa, is the biggest “city” in the Tongan isles, there are upwards of sixty villages on Tongatapu, the island I live on. Those are just the ones they bothered to include on the Places of Interest map I bought when I got here. Every few days I circle another one or two on the map as “villages I’ve biked to,” but this Saturday I made plans to reach the west coast. I’ve been to the south coast already, but the west coast promises to deliver Tongatapu’s best beaches and resorts, the “flying fox sanctuary,” and, according to my map, “Christianity Landing Place,” which I hoped would be way cooler than “Captain Cook Landing Place” - a plaque. It’s more the trip than the destination anyways; I really just wanted to circle the twelve villages between me and the northwest tip of the island. It’s about 25 km from where I live (a village called Halaleva), meaning a 50 km round trip. That being said, once I’m on a road I am easily distracted by other roads and the thought, “I wonder where that one goes…”

I’d biked to the village of Fatai a few days earlier, which was on the main road leading to the west coast, so I headed there again. On the way, I saw a sign pointing to the “green waste recycling centre,” and my first distraction. I turned and followed a twisty road for about forty minutes, even after I passed the compost piles that made up the recycling centre (I don’t know what I expected…but a facility that only allowed green-coloured waste would be just crazy enough to work in Tonga). At first I was sure that I was heading West parallel to the main road, but eventually began to wonder if the roads would ever meet up. In typical Tongan fashion the many km long road ended as a driveway to a house in the middle of nowhere (though I’m sure Andre would point out that it’s somewhere in the owner’s lives). I biked back to where I had gotten sidetracked.

After a run in with a dog pack (dogs in Tonga got together at some point and all agreed they hated me), a surge of adrenalin and the discovery of the main (paved) road put me back on track. Awhile later I was as far as the village of Te’eliu. I would find that out later, having left the map at home – where’s the fun if I know exactly where I am! There, I saw another main-looking road headed “left,” and growing bored of the same straight road, I turned. For a “main” road, it was devoid of cars – I never saw any, but I did see plenty of bats. On a side note, almost every coconut tree in Tonga seems to be a “flying fox sanctuary.” There’s a massive gathering of them in a coconut grove near my apartment, and I don’t know where the idea that they’re night creatures comes from (science?), but Tongan bats don’t seem to know that. They fly around over my head with a never-ending screech-chatter whenever I pass.

The road ended at the south coast, officially turning my western trip into a plan for another day. I biked from Hā’utu to ‘Utulau (a village sponsored by the Japanese government, as every “this facility provided in friendship by Japan” sign suggested). Then, past the Princess’ residence and north towards home. And that’s when my rear tire blew. I heard it, and I felt it, but I tried to ignore until a few minutes later I was biking on the rim and got off. From there, I walked the 5 km left to my apartment, shaking my head at the many tire repair shops I passed who followed the Tongan custom of closing for the day at lunch on Saturdays.

Ready to roll, and, I’ll be the first to admit, looking pretty sharp

For the “off-road” experience in Tonga, you just have to stay on the roads


It was at this time that I began to wonder if the road I was on would ever meet up with the main road, and for kicks, took a picture

Cursing the Tongan tire god; though, now that I was home, knowing my tire repair kit would make short work of the problem

Oh, and when I passed the Princess’ residence, I was lucky beyond belief to see her white tigers outside. The picture is at a distance, but it was as close as I dared get for fear of being mauled!