In Michael Buble's Wisdom

Tuesday 20th April 2010, 4.10pm, Nadi Bay Resort, Nadi - Vitu Levu

We dragged ourselves away from Robinson Crusoe Island and the family of staff there who adopted us on Saturday morning. We left in sombre silence, it was amazing how quickly the people there made us feel at home, and we were incredibly sad to leave those who had been so caring of us. But as much as we realise that the islands are all "much of a muchness", we do want to experience the atmosphere in other beach resorts around the Pacific. The staff all came to the shore and waved us off by playing a guitar and singing a traditional Fijian farewell ballad. At the end of the song they shouted in unison their favourite Robinson Crusoe Catchphrase, "I see you baby!" to which Ella and I dutifully responded from the boat with the answer they wanted "Love you long time!". Sure it doesn't make much sense, but they seem to love saying it, and these are people who deserved our thanks.

From there we went to the Beach House on the Coral Coast from where I last wrote to you, where I was struck down with temporary melancholy, where it rained for two days. Now we are in Nadi again, on the West Coast of the main island of Vitu Levu for one night before we head back to the Mamanuca group tomorrow morning. Yes, it would probably be easier for us to choose one place and stick with it for 2 weeks, but we are too practised at being wandering, restless nomads now, my companion and I, and curiosity always gets the better of these cats. This cat doesn't have much to tell you today, I could complain some more about how much my stiff neck hurts (I am self diagnosing inflamed muscles, trapped nerves and a need for anti-inflammatory tablets) but that would be dull, and you've probably had enough of my griping this week already.

I write to tell you a brief anecdote which my Mother probably will not thank me for sharing with you. I was cheering myself up this morning by using my favourite toy, Skype, to give her a call. As much as she misses just having me around, I know that another thing she's really missing is hearing about all my friends and what they've been up to. After filling her in on my news (lots of neck related complaining) she first asks after Ella, and then plies me with questions such as "Have you spoken to Emma recently?", "Has Rowena had her baby yet?", "How are the Hannahs doing?", "Heard from Asha and Laura?", "What are the Canterbury lot up to?". She loves to hear all their gossip and goings-on as much as she likes to hear mine I think.

The subject turned to my friends' romantic relationships seeing as many of them have had a change in circumstances recently; the poor woman doesn't get any love based news from her own stalwart singleton first born so I sated her with developments in my friends' love lives instead of my own; missing in absence. When I had finished recalling for her all their up to date exploits as well as mentioning Ella's continuing quest for her Holy Grail (blonde, dread-locked, Swedish, surfer, rich parents with heart conditions), she quietly and tentatively posed the forbidden question, "And you Grace? Have you met anyone special?".

Special. Hmmmm. Tricky one. The short answer is "No". The very long answer is one that I do not wish to go in to, suffice to say that successful trysts generally require both parties involved to think that the other is "special". I gave her an answer somewhere in the middle of these two possible responses that fitted adequately with the New Age feminist anger that she rolls her eyes and tuts at. "No Mum. There is no one special. Men are not special creatures, and the sooner they realise how un-special they are the sooner I might be slightly more interested in spending time with one." Ahhh, Germaine Greer has raised me well.

Then my Mother said something marvellous. Or rather, sang something. Calling on the wise words of middle aged women's favourite and nice clean boy crooner Michael Buble, she warbled down the phone to me "I just haven't met you yet!". I could hear my sister laughing away in the background with me, apparently she was treated to exactly the same rendition on the day she broke up with her ex-boyfriend. What a wonderfully funny woman she is. Mum, unfazed by our laughter, then reiterated her point by adding "I think of you girls every time I hear that song". Thanks Mum. I won't run away to the nunnery just yet then.