I wake up early, as I usually do, and light my torch for a second to check the time. It's a quarter to six and it's my first morning here. I'm in the guesthouse at Kofure village - just a small room with two beds and a small table - and some bird song reveals that day light will be breaking in not too long. Apart from this a weak rustling in the palms is all I can hear. No waves breaking - a nice and quiet morning. Another flash with my torch and I find my shorts and my shirt, and then I step out and down the shell lined path to the little beach. I pass the outriggers that are pulled up and are resting just behind the sand and I make my way over to the black lava rocks by the end of the beach. A great place to sit and watch the day break.
A few others come down to the beach: a young girl sits under the coco nut palms at the other end, and a young father, it's Benson, and his son are walking slowly along the edge of the water. My thoughts go back to last night when I sat and talked to Erwatius, Davidson and some others for a long time under the kerosene lantern. It had been both entertaining and interesting to listen to all they had to tell, and they were genuinely interested in hearing stories from far away Europe, and also my opinion on what I have seen here in PNG. Their English is quite good, so even if their semi-subsistence reality is immensely far from my western, urban life our conversation had run very smoothly. Quite extraordinary, really.
From my seat on the rocks I follow how darkness turns to dusk, and dusk slowly turns to daylight. First the sky above the horizon changes to a hazy reddish yellow and the clouds just above start glowing around the edges. The palm fronds above us attract the first rays and for a while they are more golden than green. Then, there it is. A huge fiery ball slowly rises out of the sea. First just a small slice, then a bit more. A line of clouds catches the sun before it has appeared fully, but this just adds to the spectacle. A canoe with two men paddle by a short distance from the beach - probably on their way to the market - and they too just underline the tranquil atmosphere. It's all quite overwhelming, but it's just the start of an ordinary day. Well, not for me, of course. Davidson is going to show me their gardens, and I will go snorkelling from one of the small beaches, and I might join a canoe over to the neighbouring village. We'll see. No need to rush things. I'll sit and take in just a little more of the wonderful morning.
Benson takes his son back up, and I can see Bona is making my breakfast ready. I start moving up as well, while the sea still lies there nice and smooth, a bit less golden and a bit bluer every minute as the sun rises. I'm ready for a new day.