You know how I was saying that we wanted to find out more about nickel mining in New Caledonia? Well, we joined in a street demonstration! That’s me in blue. Ha, Mum would be so proud of me.

We ducked into Noumea for one night to stock up on food and beer. As we walked around town looking for the fishing tackle shop, we came across a few hundred Kanaks with placards, banners and a float with a man with a megaphone. Of course it was all in French, but it was to the good old protest rhythm of, “What do we want, la la la, when do we want it, NOW!”

We just stared at first, then waved and walked away. Then we thought, “When else in our lives will we get the chance to join in a Kanak protest?” So we set forth, with no idea what the protest was for.

We walked with them with the other handful of whiteys and got some odd and lovely smiles: The feeling was wonderful.

They were protesting at government plans to export nickel to China. The pamphlet we were handed was in French so that’s all we know. When walked for about ten minutes then had to leave. Actually, we didn’t, we could of stayed and scream and shouted and got international media attention (fantasy, fantasy) but fishing tackle and fresh veges were calling. I’m a tourist-activist only. Sigh.

After eating mouldy cabbage and canned beetroot for a week, we desperately needed fresh food. Herbs, lemons, lettuce, spinach, fresh bread and cheese. Dean is in heaven with the four different cheeses we bought. And beer. He was out of beer. Actually that was the main reason for leaving the wops to head for the city.

Now we’re off to do something very special: A moonlit kayak tour and an overnight stay in a tent in the trees. This is at Blue River National Park. It’s the only expensive, touristy thing we’ve planned for and it’s been a nightmare trying to organise it without speaking French. So it could be a total disaster. Or not. My latest epiphany is that adventure is the effort you make regardless of the activity and the outcome.