The following account of a trip to Samoa (and California) was sent to us by Conny and Gerhard Plume, from Germany. They have very kindly given permission for us to reproduce it on this site. They retain the copyright to the article and any request to reproduce it in part or full should be addressed to Connie and Gerhard Plume, Plume@t-online.de.

The birth of a crazy idea

This was after my favorite television program 'Mona Lisa' in cold December on a Saturday evening. The following program was 'travelling” and 'Samoa' was the topic there. Longing for sun and recreation in cold December there were already a long distance journey thoughts in our heads. And some details in the report fitted in my travel plan very well. Afterwards I told Gerhard the details:1st An island country at the other end of the world with perpetually good weather and decent streets -- meaning good conditions for cycling. 2nd beer, brewed after German purity regulations, since the Germans had been there colonial supremacy almost 100 years ago (this was a very good argument to fill Gerhard with enthusiasm for the first time ;-) -- 3rd No terrible deseases and no nasty animals. So it was classified “not dangerous”.

At first Gerhard didn't seem to be so much filled with enthusiasm. But after two weeks he came back to my surprise smiling with a flight schedule and the information of costs: the fly would need below 2000 DM (means 909 US$) if we booked just in time.

From then it was a fixed idea in our heads and the long search for information started.

Preparations or The biggest lexicon of the world

Again we learned to appreciate the internet as the most universal source of all knowledge and diverse organizational possibilities. In the beginning it was difficult to find the thread in the gigantic information labyrinth. But after a deep look into the Enzyclopaedia Britannica and after a call of Gerhard to the Samoan consul in Germany the information tumbled stackwisely from our printer. The consul was kind enough to send to us a fax approximately 20 m long with so many addresses and printed internet sites that half the corridor was filled with papers.

The first trial of planning wasn't useful. We looked for alternatives in the internet and some better route-and-time-ideas. So we developped the idea of visiting some friends in San Diego. There was a stop-over in Los Angeles and it was only 200 km from there - so to speak – “nearby”, even with the bikes.

Our friends were quite surprised at our email inquiry in January (because Americans never would organize such a long time ahead), however they invited us warmly.

Drinking a bottle of red wine there was the birth of another idea: to start the journey together with a couple of our friends. The only problem was: to find one appointment for four professionally intensely working people. The increase of this organizational problem arose from three job changes and Gerhards change of theater director and additionally Gerhard's for the first time non-uniform vacation season in the sound department. But all of us were quite unstressend after the motto: ‘It is always possible to cancel, but we pretend that it can happen'.

The internet had for us also various practical organization helps peparing the Californian part: the reservation for the youth hostel in Santa Monica (Los Angeles) was only 5 mouseklicks away, the best written travel guide for Samoa from the most popular American internet-bookshop Amazon was in our mailbox within one week, the timetable from San Diego back to L.A. was a question of 5 min.

Directly from Samoa we got some short movies, we found a currency calculator and there was even a possibility for direct reservation for the most expensive hotel in Samoa.

The Samoa-file swelled up nicely to about 300 pages over the following months. So we became from internet- to internet recherche more and more 'experts' - particularly Gerhard as usual! Finally we all knew at the end of May, that we could actually spend our vacation together.

The adventure starts

Everything started on Sunday, June 25th -- naturally with a super-vacation grinning of two want-to-be-globetrotters. We were loading our bikes onto the train to Frankfurt, 10 and 13 kg of baggage, Gerhard of course also with his sound equipment and tools for the bikes. The little bike minicomputers started on the distance from the train station to Frankfurt airport to count our first 10 vacation kilometers.

Of course this caused some doubts to the Lufthansa staff: Our unpacked bikes were a little problem for them. But after explaining that five other airlines had already managed such a transport without trouble we were allowed to get in.

After 11 hours on the airplane and 9 hours time-gap we landed in L.A. the same evening.

Impossible for cycling? Reconnaissances in Los Angeles on two wheels

Many people had warned us of Los Angeles - THE car driver town, totally bicycle hostile! The first impression seemed to agree with them! We stood with our freshly inflated bikes and all baggage at about 10 p.m. in front of the airport and there bubbled thousands of hotel-shuttles, taxis, private transportation-services, busses and so on on four tracks side by side.

However, we had hoped to be able to buy a map for us at the airport by the late evening hour, but- no chance! Which direction to take us to Santa Monica to the youth hostel? How far was it? Taking which street and avoiding the many freeways if possible? We wondered to and fro. During half an hour we tried to organize a nearby situated hotel with shuttle-service, but it seemed to be very difficult. A shuttle then came with a sign 'Santa Monica budget'. Gerhard asked the driver whether he would carry us together with the bikes. He agreed, however, unfortunately the car could not be closed in the rear after loading the bikes. So Gerhard squatted himself into the trunk and tried to hold the doors shut with his hands.

A colleague of the driver fortunately came at the next stop. With the remark :’You can't do that this way, colleague!' the heavy man threw himself against the door, and it shut immediately.

Only poor Gerhard had to wait for half an hour, till he was freed after the uncomfortable transport at the other end of Santa Monica. It cost 80 DM (38$!). But after all: 11 p.m. and we were there!

There was another little surprise in the youth hostel: We were booked, but for the next night! Gerhard hadn't considered the time gap! The kind staff helped with a call. They sent us to a private little lodging 2 km away which had a vacant bed for the night. It was an accommodation which was improvised very much with roughly nailed bunk beds and a communal shower. But after a 20-hours-journey we didn't care about this.

The morning started with a communal breakfast in an old porch. There young travellers from all over the world assembled around some giant containers with marmelade, margarine and Peanut butter. With a big fresh pot of Nescafe everyone told stories about their previous paths. We stuffed our bellies with stacks of toast and after having finished we started our L.A. discovery tour.

Santa Monica is a rich district in the Northwest of Los Angeles. On the marvellous beaches lots of sun admirers and athletes of many sports are meeting together. For all of them Santa Monica has a wonderful concrete 'beach highway' where you may move yourself in any way sweating.... as a jogger, inline-scater, mountain-bike driver, walker... with or without baby carriage. But quite important is: Show yourself as professional as possible with expensive sports clothing, having a pulse meter at your arm and music in your ears. And at this beach highway there are famous muscle-beach open-air-fitness-training-areas where the most beautiful and most muscular bodies of the nation are working out in public. A terrific sight !!!

Of course it was quite superb for us to find this highway for our bikes directly in front of the house.

After the first sights we decided to drive along the famous Sunset Boulevard - being one of those nearly endless streets in L.A., where the famous ‘quarters of the rich and beautiful’ with fences to keep 'normal people' away, guarded by porters, cherished by 1000 serving ghosts. But it´s not a problem for cyclists anyway: We friendly smiled at the porters and drove by; -), examined here and there the houses of these people and admired their beautiful gardens. Above all we drove kilometer over kilometers along the Sunset boulevard -- not at all rarly with a cycle track at the side! After approx. 25 km we arrived at the famous district Hollywood. There we strolled along the street of the stars a little asterisks and allowed ourselves one coffee. Finally we began the return journey along the Santa Monica boulevard. Actually it was a little exhausting because there was a building site restricted for miles and miles. Against all warnings we found the drivers very considerate and not at all so aggressive and overseeing bicycles.

We enjoyed the beautiful main shopping street in Santa Monica, went to the Peer with various pleasure offers and naturally a big beer in the evening.

We decided to dedicate the Tuesday to the art. Of all the incredibly interesting possibilities which L.A. has to offer the Getty center invited us most. Paul Getty was an oil multi-milliardaire who invested his money into the collection of old European art. Already during life time he had bought together an extremely impressive collection of many centuries and all European countries. He sponsored the city of L.A. to build a public museum for these treasures at a suitable place towards the end of his life. The town took much time and put it onto one of the most beautiful places, a plateau over the town. They engaged one of the most famous and best architects of the presence to build the museum. The impressive modern architectural ensemble is a feast for the eye and all senses – made of stone, glass and metal with wonderful view over the town and into the landscape.

When the museum was finished in the 90s, there was a famous garden designer who surrounded the building with marvellous gardens. Paul Getty gave his whole fortune to the Getty's trust at his death and bequeathed that one may go free of charge into this fantastic museum.

A magnetic railroad brings up the visitors from the foot of the hill. There impressively open gigantic parts of architecture whose rough marble stone surfaces play in every light in other warm colors.

The collection is one of the finest because it is collected by a lover and expert with high expertise. E.g. one finds a department dedicated to the medieval book illumination and its development, the best renaissance painters, baroque paintings sorted by countries and style development. In addition there are explanatory rooms in which one can be informed about colors, materials and techniques and even try them out somehow. We liked most the 'collection' of European castle rooms: Getty had 'collected' particularly beautiful rooms in European castles, let them have dismantled completely and built up again to the detail in the museum.

We were so enthusiastically strolling around in the museum and garden from the opening to the closing, finally eight hours!

We set out for the south the next morning. For the next 15 km we enjoyed the wonderful Beach Highway, where in the lovely morning the wheels rolled by themselves. Driving further the coast of L.A… the town didn't come to an end: 30, 50, 70 km, and still in L.A.! The wonderful beach changed to normal residential areas, then we drove by the ugly and dusty gigantic industry port and then the beautiful suburbs in the south, and drove and drove ... 120 km on this day. The next morning we rode again the cycles and it was such a marvellous journey, along the Pacific at 28-32 degrees centigrade –Greece with 'air Condition', Gerhard always stated, always a refreshing wind from the sea and it was an uninterrupted enchantment to slip along the beach streets. Only Cornelia´s skin reacted intensively to the sun: Despite all precautions the hated skin pickles came on the 2nd day and no protection against the sun could prevent them.

With Friends in San Diego

We reached San Diego shortly after noon on the third cycling-day. We found after little looking around the beach house of our friends and were welcomed with much warmth which immediately took us into the middle. So in familiar atmosphere and while happily telling within minutes Conny was glad about the feeling to cope with her English immediately.

The whole family -- Bob, Carolyn and their 3 adult daughters moved back into their house in the town on the next day. The move after one week vacations almost could have gone through as a full house-move ---there were so much things and stocks and food and drinks and icecubes which had to be distributed on 3 cars.

Bob took the time for a cycle journey with us through San Diego. We thus got to know the prettiest corners on one day and found the town very attractive: The compact center, the port, Coronado Island, where every lawn edge is manicured. It is also the settlement of the war veterans, where the union's Jack ornates the gardens in all variations already two weeks before National Holiday. Particularly the hotel Del Coronado was very beautiful: A splendid building in old Colonial style and well known from several movies (Some like it hot).

The next day Carolyn came with us and we cycled the central Balboa park, along an old boulevard in Spanish style, went smiling through something like a mini world exhibition (cottages of every nation and everything being infinitely kitschy and old-fashioned). In the afternoon we visited the traffic museum -- we saw big limousines and bikes of all times, chrome blinking and gigantic. In the evening we went to the Zoo and admired one of the few Panda babies worldwide. The Zoo was lovely and impressive with its variety in the well arranged landscape areas where animals and plants of any continent are presented in big areas 'close to nature'.

The days were lovely and enjoyable with Bob and Carolyn to talk to and we learned a lot about country and people. We spoke about God and the world and America with them. Their uncomplicated and warm welcome made it really difficult to depart! Of course we are hoping that we haven’t seen each other for the last time in our lives.

We went back with Amtrak to L.A. which had a real bicycle compartment. In L.A. we had the next surprise, that on the contrary to the statements of several American citizens we could move the biggest part of the 50 km from the station to the airport with the metro. Well, we have learned that many Yanks don't know about their public traffic system at all, nevertheless it seems often better than its reputation.

We then met -- precisely in time and already sunburned our friends at the airport and the real adventure could begin.

Samoa, a departure into strange worlds

Again a nine hour´s flight and a longer break in Hawaii. On early tuesday, after endless flight about endless waters shortly after sunrise an extremely sharp breaking of the big 737 not to miss the short landing strip -- and there we were! Big mess when getting out and first curious looks on quite many 'real' Samoans which somehow fit in none of our grids: Neither Asian nor African, not black and not yellow, with broad round faces but everybody unmistakable. They looked at us just as curiously, for at only approx. 5000 non-Samoans per annum these four fair-skinned giants with the big bicycles deserved a second look-.

Still without cycles Sabine and Bernd took a cab while we undertook the 35 km to the capital Apia. Our first experiences were waving and waving and greeting and greeting. Permanent loud 'Bye-Bye' reputations and waving on the way gave all children and many adults to the unusual strangers, of course we replied.

The famous Vailima brewery lay at our way shortly before Apia. This chance couldn't be missed by Gerhard and as first great deed of our tour he organized a guided tour for 2 days later.

The capital had only a handful buildings in height more than two floors, but no department stores, only few streets sealed, all other houses like a village -- at least at the first look.

Sabine and Bernd, in the meantime, already had got an accommodation in a little guest house and were on the search for renting bicycles which should be there according to our leaderbook. There was nothing suitable for a round tour with baggage on two hilly volcanic islands.The only bikes they offered for rent were built for people with 1.60 m of height, without gears and very old and rickety! Bernd understood this after the first meters and decided to look after a purchase possibility and not to rent the cycles. Toward evening he already knew all the bigger stores of the capital. Most of them had only one or two cycles to sell. He found a Chinese Mountainbike which looked and seemed quite useable in the only real sports store of the capital. Unfortunately, the gear rim worked for two hours after the purchase then it fell irreparable of the hub.

We enjoyed in the meantime the first evening in Apia, saw a wonderful sunset on a beach near the town, admired the wonderful stars above the south sea and enjoyed a delicious meal in one of the few restaurants.

Bernd and Sabine went to the storekeeper and after negotiating long they came back with two new Taiwanese Mountainbikes, which on Wednesday still were refitted at another storekeeper with porters and with substitute tube. Finally we were ready for departure after Sabine was allowed to let 15 of her 30 kg of baggage with the Valentine´s housekeeper in the capital accommodation where we wanted return at the end of the tour.

Thursday we started with the visit of the brewery. It brews after German purity regulations which is a great pride of the runners because it has modern brewing plants in the middle of the otherwise not industrialised Samoa. The brewmaster has studied in Weihenstephen, and also much else is influenced by German tradition. Even the hops is imported from the Holledau in Bavaria!

The young brewmaster had a lot of fun with leading us and got very detailed in his descriptions when Bernd and Gerhard pestered him with with detailed questions. Of course at the end there was a tryout -- first of the delicious Vailima and at the exit of the tropical rain. It poured down so intensely from the deep hanging clouds that we were wet through within shortest time and spent the rest of the day in the accommodation.

However, in the evening Gerhard and me still strolled over the largest town market. There were relatively few fruits and above all weak offers to our disappointment. We noticed for the first time the subject that in Samoa´s traditional culture work is unknown in our meaning: One only grows nothing else but one sells, what anyway grows; one produces nothing (or at least hardly something) -- and there are no in nationally produced basic needs and simply nearly no arts and crafts. Little enticingly even the offer of the little snack stands: There were funny meat parts fried, some home-baked cakes, a little bit of rice -- but we found little deep-fried cake-balls which were very delicious without filling and still warm.

Over to Savaii

We set out for Savaii, the other big inhabited island, on Friday tomorrow. The street led past to the harbour by all villages of our arrival distance at the airport. Twenty minutes after the start of the the twelve o´clock ferry we arrived and had then four hours the opportunity to look at a strange carwash: Every incoming and outgoing car was being treated by people with a big backpack. By questions we learned that it was saltwater in the knapsacks which prevents the pest African snail to be transported by carlift to Savaii. It has already caused enough damage to the cultivated plants on Upolu missing natural enemies.

We took the afternoon ferry. It needed approximately one hour for the terribly swaying passage and was loaded with real Samoans where we stood quite out. We then had to hurry on Savaii to reach the preferred accommodation before the sunset gushing in. We found a very pretty little area with 8 bungalows and a little restaurant directly on the beach which was operated by an Italian doctor for many years. He is married to a Samoan wife, is today back in Italy, and the accommodation is run today by his 11 adult children.

Saturday offered us Paul (one of his sons) the joining into an island round trip. Short determinedly we four climbed to six other tourists into the van and let us carry-- luxurious in the airconditioned car -- to the hidden attractions of the island. Stations were: The gigantic seaturtles in the sweet water cultivation pond for which you had to know the right tree of turn into the jungle. The second biggest lava field of the world then came –as far as the view reached we went to stiffened lava of 1905. A village which is built around a former crater and we looked into many traditional houses without walls at going by. The Blowholes were extra impressive, they snort and coconuts skid up to 70 m in the height if the waves push the water of the South Seas into the steep coast rocks. They´re splashing like geysirs. And at the end there was a tropical waterfall like paradise, we bathed all of us and let us give a shower.

We asked Paul about the much new houses which could be seen. They are built after the great cyclon ten years ago. If the Samoan of today builts a house it has walls, doors and windows which can be closed. The old tradition of fales without walls is ended hereby. People under foreign influence change their minds. They don´t want to lead their whole lives in the public any longer. Nevertheless much houses are yet open. First they build an open guest house before building their own house. For hospitality one could ask every family for an overnight place and would find everywhere a sleeping place. As a tourist you don´t want to advantage of this and so you are paying for a traditional right and destroy it in the same time.

We learned from Paul that the Samoan is doing three things on Sunday: Go to the service, eat till he is tired and then: sleep. All other things are forbidden more or less strictly in this super Christian country. Well, we leapt onto the our bicycles on Sunday morning and looked out for one of more than 400 churches of the island for fitting to take our interest at the christian tradition. Not without our special equipment: Camera and cassette recorder always were in the bag. We found "our" service at which we and the little cassette recorder were allowed to take part in the Roman Catholic church of Tuasivi. We came to a documentation of Savaiian religiousness and to the experience of Roman Catholic liturgy with flower ceremony support. The flowers simply were put on the priests. The church choir merged with the congregation for several songs in several voices, so one couldn't make out any difference. The parish priest spoke insistently, amplified by a party rack with constant little feedback; and the Sunday’s dresses and the flowers and the church were a strange mixture of baroque cheerfulness with the strictness of the English Puritanism. We spent the rest of the day as good Samoans on the beach -- -except that in the evening we saw some people come along the street with purchase bags. Bernd and Gerhard already sat on the cycles to organize beer supply. The sales ban on Sundays was not taken so strictly in the store --it finally got already dark.

In the evening we discussed how we wanted to carry on. We had put into our heads to cycle round both islands. But since we had already seen the main attractions of Savaii and since the accommodation situation on Upolu representing itsself better, we decided to take back the ferry the next morning.

We set out in the early morning, Gerhard like always ahead; we wanted to get the 10 o’clock ferry to undertake still something during the rest of the day. Today, Gerhard has still something of this: A dog came barking besides the cycle and bit bravely into the exotic Bavarian shin, which was served there. The wound didn't look bad, it bled a bit and was calmed easily by Sabine with plaster and some iodine ointment.

As usual, the ferry was filled well. We were glad about some bananas and a place in the middle where rolling and stamping didn't press so much on our stomaches.

Only a little while the route went the direction into Apia on Upolu again (the round island trip works not quite along the coast). To get into the south of the island, we had to torment ourselves over a mountain road. IT Wasn't THAT high but tropical warmth (approx.) 30° C and more, high humidity and unfortunately too little water were adding more circumstances. Problems with the local bought mountainbikes and again: both the wirings didn't work correctly and caused a continuing pain for our friends. A dear Samoan woman gave us quite almost exhausted on the height what we needed most: a bag of little fresh tomatoes! On the peak there was a kiosk which gave milk, chips and we substantially used loo, like everything. And before the departure the kiosk owner called again (he had probably made the deal of two weeks) and gave eight coconuts to us. The problem consisted to get them on the bicycles somehow -- . The downhill went beautifully fast -- in opinion of one little boy who swung his machete against Gerhard´s bicycle a little too fast. He hit only metal --it could probably have gone worse.

In the evening we stopped in a village which was mentioned because of his mangroves observation station in the leaderbook. The landlady of the beach huts demonstrated with practiced blows how to open a fresh coconut -- we had spoiled before almost a pocket-knife. Gerhard as THE hero of the evening fetched a very little cockroach out of the bathroom of Bernd and Sabine -- about five cm it might have measured ...? There was no kiosk in the place. A very kind New Zealander offered himself and drove with Bernd and Conny in the car for shopping. Dinner and breakfast were secured.

It was quite damp outside in the next morning. We leapt onto the wheels. The mangrove observation ward consisted of a sign announcing that mangroves would be growing there. That you could evidently see. While it was drizzling and raining we drove along the southern coast of Upolu. At first we inspected Coconut Resort, a resort for the tourists with enough money to spend. We considered for a moment whether we should remain there in view of the rain. However, the astronomical prices of accomodations stopped us from this.

Bernd had got himself a remote control against dogs in the form of a stick. He could handle it quite well. A horse was so frightened by the tool, that it would almost have attacked.

Further guided by the rain easing up from time to time, the street went up through a national park which made itself noticeable by the missing of the otherwise rather continual village along the street. Suddenly Bernd couldn’t be seen anymore. Well, we waited and Gerhard drove back a short distance to discover the flat tire or whatever. However, Bernd had only stayed behind to pick some flowers for Sabine for the anniversary of their meeting each other. And of course you can’t announce something like that before, otherwise the surprise is gone. All of us agreed with this ...

At the next possible accommodation, a surfing station at a river mouth, we dared again to ask for rooms,... without success. Now we knew from the map, that to the next bridge we had five kilometers of a dirty route in front of us. People said we could also walk through the river mouth. Under the curious eyes of many children, we shoved our cycles through the loose shore sand and carried them one after the other through the flow of the river. After four times crossing all of our baggage had arrived at the other shore.

Having passed some very new built churches and wild boars we saw a wooden sign with the note Vauvau-Beach. It had just started to pour down again and we felt exhausted after a long rainy day and started to be terribly cold. In the guidebook the accommodation was classified ‘uncertain’ meaning you couldn’t be sure when it was open. Gerhard drove down the steep mountain to clear out the situation, the others stopped on half height. In the pouring rain the owner was asked about the price, and 40 $ were thought to be much better than to get any wetter. Thus we rented two huts in a magnificent area – located next to a beach. They had been built with subsidiary money from the EU. The light went out every ten minutes and the fuse had to be switched on again. However, the owner was very understanding and even went shopping for us. We found a stove, a pot and a little bit of oil, this was enough for the usual ‘can supper’.

The next morning the sun was smiling for us on the sea and we discovered the beauty of that calm little bay. We allowed ourselves to enjoy this wonderful day being idle, swimming and snorkelling. Only Gerhard went out on the reef a little too far, so he had to fight hard against the current to come back to the shore.

On a noon walk we drank our last bottles of Samoanic beer. After that we had to wait till Thursday, when the beer car comes with supplies. We saw much coast, many schoolchildren and the proverbial joke island with the three palm trees on it. Sabine misunderstood a careful warning of the owner and after this spread a big panic in anxiousness of burglars. Gerhard hid his traveler's checks so good that later on he did find them no more.

The next morning Conny’s and Gerhard’s celebrated their 9th wedding day. A nice tourist –like it seemed - offered to us to celebrate in his hut ten years in Samoa. We trudged over to celebrate with him. He had begun as a trainee for veterinary medicine, married a Samoan later and operates now an business which mainly lives on ecotourism. Now he is able to get every price from overseas tourists, which can’t imagine anything and therefore pay every sum. He has a sweet little daughter who immediately fell asleep in Conny ´ s arms. There was champagne and everything, what we didn't get in the village shops, but what there is in the capital Apia of course. And naturally home-baked bread produced by HIMself! His wife said casually if one loves the bread one should marry the baker ...

We started for the east to discover new shores and beaches. After the leaderbook we would have preferred an accommodation of an Australian called Boomerang creek. Unfortunately, this was already occupied. We drove on to the southeast top of the island and a little further. It was Thursday, the blessed day of the beer delivery. On the return we met the car which delivered our thurst cruncher. We anchored at Litia´s Beach Fales, immediately got two huts directly on the beach and decided to remain as long as possible because of the nice society of a Bavarian diving teacher, a Mercedes personnel officer from Singapore and some other people. This was until Saturday; we so spent one Friday full with snorkelling over fantastic corals, full board and nice conversations with the con-vacationists. Funnily enough, all of the shops in the next surrounding didn't have any more Vailima beer when we departed...

Saturday we set out early, with the return journey to Apia -about 70 km - on the schedule. The street through the hilly inside of the island promised some height differences and we left the coast for approximately one and a half hours upwards. These were about four hundred meters in height. Bernd had a flat tyre which we could easily clear with the bought substitute tube. With some Cokes and many breaks we came to a lake surrounded by bizarre volcano formations, where whole Upolu gets its current from. The way led over one more little saddle, then ran in the direction of the north shores downward. After an adventurous wood bridge we styled the lunch-break much more pleasantly with a fish tin can, a bread and some Vailima. Behind a curve to the west we found the Cave pool, a freshwater cave directly by the sea which is under a church of a theological educational establishment. Above the degree of some students was celebrated with a big brimborium and beautiful dresses and we cooled down in the pool below.

From our aim Apia we were separated only by the distance of about 25 km when Sabine’s tyre ran out of air. We already had used the substitute tube for Bernd and because they had 26"-wheels, our three 28“ substitute tubes did not fit. We got out of the affair by lubricating a huge amount of vulcanisation gel directly onto the hole in the tube seam, then packing a big patch on it and very fast putting everything together and firmly inflating. The tyre should push the patch against the tube. It worked, Sabine returned to Apia -then the tyre was flat again. Our accommodation was beautiful as always if one meets something known before. Only our view on Apia had changed -- at the arrival from California we had always searched the town… when we came back from the island round tour we thought: “What a town!” We had reserved a table in the restaurant "Sails" for the evening and the meal was excellent like the first time we got it. At night Gerhard got more than 39 degrees of effort fever but there still was the whole Sunday for recovering.

On Sunday we made nothing except reading and eating and listening to the radio. We were already so full of impressions that at the next visit we will go to Stevenson´ s house. Sunday evening the nice Valentine owner took us to the airport with his ready-for-the-scrap-heap but after all driving-capable van and Air New Zealand brought us professionally back to Frankfurt. Tuesday evening after twenty-four hours of travelling (because of the time gap) we arrived there and parted -- Gerhard brought his bicycle to Donauwörth, Sabine, Conny and Bernd drove back on the reserved seats and with their bicycles to Hanover.