On the Mother’s Day long weekend (Friday 9th – Monday 12th May), a group of ten people, mostly Aussie volunteers, travelled with our bikes to Savaii, the largest of the Samoan islands. What a wonderful weekend we had! We spent three days cycling around this strikingly volcanic place, still bearing the remnants of three volcanic eruptions at the turn of last century.
1. Preparations 
It started (and ended) slowly. Getting hold of a bike was a mission in itself. They aren’t readily available to hire because Samoans are notorious for bringing them back in pieces. Fortunately, I made a very good contact – an Aussie named Steve who married a Samoan and has lived here for twenty years. His bike repairer had an old, old bike I could borrow… for a reasonable price: 50 tala (AUD$22) I was told. When I met him though, the price had gone up… to 400 tala ($AUD176)! For 4 days hire, this was ridiculous. “200 tala”, he suggested as a compromise, but I refused. “100?” I wouldn’t budge. I was ready to walk away until he reluctantly agreed to 50. He had been determined to rip-off a palagi (I assume to buy an expensive Mother’s Day gift!), but he couldn’t get his way. I felt a little bit sorry for him, but only for a moment or two.
The plan was to arrive by ferry on the Friday night, sleep the first night, before beginning three days of cycling until Monday evening, where we would catch another ferry back to the main island of Upolu. The first (Saturday) and third (Mondays) days were approximately 50km long, while the second day (Sunday) was 80-100km long, depending on whether you took the shortcut or not. I was determined not to take any shortcuts, particularly since Steve had assured us that it was one of the most beautiful spots on the island. Our accommodation had been booked ahead at various coastal fales: they proved to be absolutely beautiful.
2. Day One
It started (and ended) slowly. Getting hold of a bike was a mission in itself. They aren’t readily available to hire because Samoans are notorious for bringing them back in pieces. Fortunately, I made a very good contact – an Aussie named Steve who married a Samoan and has lived here for twenty years. His bike repairer had an old, old bike I could borrow… for a reasonable price: 50 tala (AUD$22) I was told. When I met him though, the price had gone up… to 400 tala ($AUD176)! For 4 days hire, this was ridiculous. “200 tala”, he suggested as a compromise, but I refused. “100?” I wouldn’t budge. I was ready to walk away until he reluctantly agreed to 50. He had been determined to rip-off a palagi (I assume to buy an expensive Mother’s Day gift!), but he couldn’t get his way. I felt a little bit sorry for him, but only for a moment or two.
The plan was to arrive by ferry on the Friday night, sleep the first night, before beginning three days of cycling until Monday evening, where we would catch another ferry back to the main island of Upolu. The first (Saturday) and third (Mondays) days were approximately 50km long, while the second day (Sunday) was 80-100km long, depending on whether you took the shortcut or not. I was determined not to take any shortcuts, particularly since Steve had assured us that it was one of the most beautiful spots on the island. Our accommodation had been booked ahead at various coastal fales: they proved to be absolutely beautiful.2. Day One
The first place we stayed at in Saleleloga had been wonderfully integrated into the coastal, rainforest environment. The fales were scattered along the coastline and dotted within the virgin forest, with tracks weaving their way past angular tree trunks and under wooden overpasses. The jetty jutted out 3 or 4 metres above beautifully still water among a series of little coves which were lined with overhanging greenery. The tropical warm water was interspersed with desperately cold patches where freshwater springs containing the cool mountain water burst to the surface. The food and the staff were wonderful, particularly when they agreed to have breakfast ready for us at 5:30am before our dawn set-off.
The highlights of day one were swimming in the still freshwater pool of Olemoe Falls (which were fed not from the waterfall, but from underground springs), and Alofaaga Blowholes, the (self-proclaimed) best blowholes in the Pacific, if not the world. Even though the sea was calm when we visited, the wave power against this rugged, volcanic coastline was still awe-inspiring. I’d heard of instances where people had been killed by getting too close to these, at times, unpredictable forces of nature. However, I was a little more concerned with the local Samoan lady who told me how she was not yet married, that she loved me, and that the gift of a drinking coconut was proof of her love. Had we not identified a massive hole in my rear tyre, we would have left much sooner!
The highlights of day one were swimming in the still freshwater pool of Olemoe Falls (which were fed not from the waterfall, but from underground springs), and Alofaaga Blowholes, the (self-proclaimed) best blowholes in the Pacific, if not the world. Even though the sea was calm when we visited, the wave power against this rugged, volcanic coastline was still awe-inspiring. I’d heard of instances where people had been killed by getting too close to these, at times, unpredictable forces of nature. However, I was a little more concerned with the local Samoan lady who told me how she was not yet married, that she loved me, and that the gift of a drinking coconut was proof of her love. Had we not identified a massive hole in my rear tyre, we would have left much sooner! 3. Day Two
The second night was equally picturesque. Our accommodation was located beneath two towering trees and fronted a long white-sand beach. The lady who ran the place enlisted the help of her granddaughter and grandson, who were surprisingly capable and mature hosts. Those of our group who had set off ahead had spent the afternoon chilled out in the dining fale, while others (including myself) had taken our time to explore other places along the journey. This was to be a consistent pattern for Steve and I, one which would make for a very long Day Two...
I had said that I was determined not to take any shortcuts, but on the second morning I was already very sore. It wasn’t looking good. Fortunately, Steve had packed some foam for the bike seat, but this only reduced the pain slightly. Not long into the ride, I began chatting with a local kid who was also on a bike, and he invited me to his family home. I accepted his offer, and was soon sitting cross-legged with his parents eating egg sandwiches and drinking kokosamoa (a hot chocolate drink). Fortunately, the only two people trailing me, Steve and Saju (also the only non-volunteers in our group), saw me and decided to join our little gathering. We ended up being given a whole 2-litre bottle of kokosamoa, which was a tremendous source of energy for our trip. The drink stayed warm because of the heat, which was quite intense between the hours of 10am – 4pm.
The three of us took almost every detour we could find – our first shortcut saw us trudging along a sandy road at the local village church’s instruction. After a painfully slow walk up the steep hill out of that village, we enjoyed a fantastic downhill to the remote and idyllic world of Faleolupo. We spent two hours lazing amongst brilliant white sand, palm trees and fresh local food. This was also the final location on the planet to see the end of the previous millennium, a celebration that far exceeded the modest expectations of Samoa’s tourism authorities. We could have spent the whole day there, but after swimming and eating, we knew we had to move on.
The next major highlight was the slightly more developed town of Vaisala, whose hotel balcony overlooked an aqua-blue beach perfect for lazing about and paddling. The three of us enjoyed some well-earned cold drinks and valuable shade. Unfortunately, Saju’s knee was playing up, and since it was already 3pm with a further 2-3 hours of cycling to go, he decided to be picked up by our support vehicle. After a quick swim, Steve and I continued to cycle/walk in what was the largest incline and hottest section of the ride.
The second night was equally picturesque. Our accommodation was located beneath two towering trees and fronted a long white-sand beach. The lady who ran the place enlisted the help of her granddaughter and grandson, who were surprisingly capable and mature hosts. Those of our group who had set off ahead had spent the afternoon chilled out in the dining fale, while others (including myself) had taken our time to explore other places along the journey. This was to be a consistent pattern for Steve and I, one which would make for a very long Day Two...
I had said that I was determined not to take any shortcuts, but on the second morning I was already very sore. It wasn’t looking good. Fortunately, Steve had packed some foam for the bike seat, but this only reduced the pain slightly. Not long into the ride, I began chatting with a local kid who was also on a bike, and he invited me to his family home. I accepted his offer, and was soon sitting cross-legged with his parents eating egg sandwiches and drinking kokosamoa (a hot chocolate drink). Fortunately, the only two people trailing me, Steve and Saju (also the only non-volunteers in our group), saw me and decided to join our little gathering. We ended up being given a whole 2-litre bottle of kokosamoa, which was a tremendous source of energy for our trip. The drink stayed warm because of the heat, which was quite intense between the hours of 10am – 4pm.
The three of us took almost every detour we could find – our first shortcut saw us trudging along a sandy road at the local village church’s instruction. After a painfully slow walk up the steep hill out of that village, we enjoyed a fantastic downhill to the remote and idyllic world of Faleolupo. We spent two hours lazing amongst brilliant white sand, palm trees and fresh local food. This was also the final location on the planet to see the end of the previous millennium, a celebration that far exceeded the modest expectations of Samoa’s tourism authorities. We could have spent the whole day there, but after swimming and eating, we knew we had to move on.
The next major highlight was the slightly more developed town of Vaisala, whose hotel balcony overlooked an aqua-blue beach perfect for lazing about and paddling. The three of us enjoyed some well-earned cold drinks and valuable shade. Unfortunately, Saju’s knee was playing up, and since it was already 3pm with a further 2-3 hours of cycling to go, he decided to be picked up by our support vehicle. After a quick swim, Steve and I continued to cycle/walk in what was the largest incline and hottest section of the ride. Despite our rapidly reducing hours of daylight, we still managed two stops to chat to some more of Steve’s mates. We even enjoyed Sa with a local family: fifteen minutes of family time in the evening devoted to singing, prayer and reflection. By the time we made it to Manase, our third stop, we’d been riding for half an hour in the dark, dodging pedestrians out for their evening stroll. We had time enough to grab a drink and a meal and have a chat to a few Antipodean medical students on placement, before collapsing for a well-earned rest.
4. Day Three 
The final day was comparably relaxed – a flat, coastal ride in wet conditions through more lava flow territory. The lagoon on our left would have appeared more beautiful on a clear day: a good reason to come back another time. The highlights were visiting a village built on the rim of a volcanic crater, and stroking a turtle tethered at one of the coastal fales (after telling them they shouldn’t be catching these vulnerable turtles for the sake of the tourists)! We returned to Salaleloga in time for the 12 o’clock ferry, but first managed a quick bite to eat at the place we stayed on Friday night. Once all the people and cars were squeezed onto the ferry, we set-off and I soon headed for the comfort of the passenger seat of Ben’s support vehicle. Within minutes, I was asleep.
It had been a draining few days, but tremendously rewarding. We had seen some stunning scenery, met some very generous and hospitable people, and developed strong bonds with the other survivors of ‘Cycle Savaii’. Even in such a tired state, part of me still longed to go back again. A month or so later, the desire is still there. There may well be a sequel…
The final day was comparably relaxed – a flat, coastal ride in wet conditions through more lava flow territory. The lagoon on our left would have appeared more beautiful on a clear day: a good reason to come back another time. The highlights were visiting a village built on the rim of a volcanic crater, and stroking a turtle tethered at one of the coastal fales (after telling them they shouldn’t be catching these vulnerable turtles for the sake of the tourists)! We returned to Salaleloga in time for the 12 o’clock ferry, but first managed a quick bite to eat at the place we stayed on Friday night. Once all the people and cars were squeezed onto the ferry, we set-off and I soon headed for the comfort of the passenger seat of Ben’s support vehicle. Within minutes, I was asleep.
It had been a draining few days, but tremendously rewarding. We had seen some stunning scenery, met some very generous and hospitable people, and developed strong bonds with the other survivors of ‘Cycle Savaii’. Even in such a tired state, part of me still longed to go back again. A month or so later, the desire is still there. There may well be a sequel…
