Trying to figure out how to slot this in to the other posts, but in the end i think i'll just publish it anyway :)
The flight from Hawaii to Fiji was an interesting one. Pretty much all day was taken up travelling so i wont bore you with those details, suffice to say that Andrea was pretty cheesed off that "Devil Wears Prada" was one of the movies on the plane. She's lost all motivation now to read the book she's been carrying since London.
The flight had one stop over, and that was to the Christmas Island (apparantly there are two sets of islands called this in the world). It's pretty much due south from Hawaii and really is in the middle of nowhere. When we landed the plane had to hang around on the runway by the "terminal" in order for supplies and fuel. Whilst there we were allowed to step out onto the steps and get some fresh air. Kids were waving to us through the chain link fence on the other side of the airport terminal (about 50 feet away). The terminal itself consisted of a shabby hut. I suspect that Pasport control/customs/cleaning was carried out by the same person. Baggage claim was the best though as it consisted of a bloke taking the suitcases off the plane, going over to a hatch in the hut and just handing the travellers their bags through it. Another world entirely compared to what we've been used to in the US and UK.
Going over the date line had more of an impact than we thought. Although our body clocks were fine, figuring out what day it was was more of an issue, to the point that when it came to transfering to the other resort after the first 5 days in Fiji, we had to rely on the hotel to tell us when we were leaving. From my point of view, i had real problems with figuring out what time/day it was back home. Andrea was fine with this matter, i think it was because of my man-brain not coping at all well with it.
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