Samoa - first impressions

First impressions of Samoa are suggestive of cultural links to Pacific nations previously visited– particularly Rarotonga in the Cook Islands. The runway tapers off in a shallow turquoise lagoon enclosed by a reef that varies between 50 and 200 metres offshore at different points around the island (population about 185,000). A twin prop 19-seater is the only other plane on the tarmac outside a single storey international terminal. Men in white shirts and traditional dark blue/grey mid-calf length skirts– called lava lava – attend to landing procedures and usher passengers into a fan cooled immigration hall. Smiles all round say Talofa, ‘welcome to Samoa.’ These are not formulaic smiles switched on to anticipate tips in lieu of wages.

A slightly hotter than comfortable 30C notes this landing as close on the equator. It is still the wet season and it really needs to rain. Yesterday it did, maybe again today, maybe tomorrow or the next day; in Samoan time. Nothing moves in a hurry and it’s easy to get why.




When all 150 or so passengers have been processed and assigned transport – swept up in the arms of awaiting relatives, shoe horned into regulation white taxis or packed into waiting tourist shuttles - another 150 ascend roll away steps into the plane before the airport closes down for the afternoon. The next flights in and out are not til tomorrow.

The Lonely Planet Guide flags the 22-mile trip from the north-west corner to Apia, the capital, two thirds of the way to the opposite end of the island as a sightseeing tour in itself. This proves to be spot on. Traditional fales are scattered along the road between breeze block and weatherboard bungalows. There are three types of fale, for meeting, sleeping and eating.


Some are plain grey with sheet iron roofs. Others are painted bright purple, turquoise or yellow, breaking the visual rhythm and apparently, displaying the affluence that comes from overseas relatives remitting funds back to the island. This maybe great for the recipients, but not so good for the economy as it is a castle built of sand.



The tradition of burying deceased family members in the garden - or in front of the village meeting house for chiefs - under solid concrete grave markers is very much in evidence. Status is marked by the position either in front of the house, at the side or round the back. This guarantees the land stays in the family or village community.





The road follows the coast all the way to the town, and our destination at the renknowned Aggie Grey's Hotel.