I find it customary to report on driving conditions in Fiji each year I get to spend time back home on holidays.
Fiji roads, once serene avenues for island strolls, have transformed into adrenalineinfused mazes where drivers seem to be auditioning
for a spot in Formula 1 or rehearsing for a grand requiem.
It’s a symphony of chaos, and I find myself torn between reaching for a helmet or a violin.
Picture this: you’re cruising along, enjoying the scenic drive, when suddenly cars from side roads materialise with all the grace of a
magician’s disappearing act.
It’s as if they believe they’ve been handed a backstage pass to the traffic circus, totally disregarding the performance of through
traffic.
And then, there are the daredevil dogs. I’m convinced they’ve taken a crash course in road-crossing theatrics.
One moment they’re confidently strutting across the asphalt, and the next, they change their minds halfway, executing a perfect Uturn.
Backing out of a parking lot is an art form, with a twist.
No sooner do you engage reverse than you become the unwitting witness of a one-act play, starring a magically appearing pedestrian
desperately attempting to fix a broken flip-flop.
And don’t get me started on the traffic cameras.
Placed strategically in the middle of nowhere, they seem to have taken up a new hobby: clicking away selfies of passing cars.
I half-expect them to start demanding autographs and posing with drivers for a virtual scrapbook.
Oncoming drivers have developed a peculiar sense of camaraderie, expressing their joy by hitting full beam the moment they pass you.
It’s a blinding gesture of goodwill, a lighthouse of friendship in the dark sea of traffic.
Meanwhile, those minivans have perfected the art of overtaking – five or six vehicles at a time, only to slam on the brakes immediately
for an impromptu passenger pickup.
It’s a rollercoaster of acceleration and deceleration, which probably leaves the passengers clinging to their seats like sailors in a storm.
And let’s not forget the buses, those majestic road behemoths.
They stop with the rears hanging out on the road, blocking all passage until they decide to continue their regal journey.
Driving in Fiji is not for the faint of heart.
It’s a whimsical dance where every driver plays a part, be it the daredevil dog, the flip flop fixer, the flying minivans, or the busblocking
ballet.
It’s a sight to behold, a reminder that patience is not just a virtue; it’s a survival skill on these roads.
Please, drive to stay alive. Merry Christmas.
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