Random Play by Graham Reid

Because I have been doing a bit of flying lately I've managed to catch up on some viewing. Going to and from Samoa for a large family celebration meant I got to see a whole swag of episodes of The Thick Of It (unexpurgated, thank you Air New Zealand).

For those of you who don't know this profanity-filled series – inventive profanity though, not your weasily Phil Goff potty-mouth “bullshit” – it is set inside the corridors of a British political party (Labour, on the slide) and a department which is micro-managed by the minder Malcolm Tucker (played by Peter Capaldi), “the all-swearing eye” as one character calls him.

Tucker is great character: ruthless, shameless, permanently angry, running on adrenalin and exasperation – and creating memorable one-liners along the way. “I'll be with you in two shakes of a crying baby”.

It is raw, hilarious, politically incorrect (if you object to the crying baby comment) and highly watchable, even at 30,000 feet.

It sprung the equally funny – and not a little scary – movie In the Loop.

I mention this because we landed back here just as Chris Carter went into his meltdown: He'd been rumbled, denied it (hardly a man of his convictions then?) and then came out swinging (not in Tua-way more like a spoilt child – again) and then . . .

Hard to believe this man – who has found the past few weeks stressful – wanted to be Minister of Foreign Affairs. Did he think it would just be gadding about in business class, nice dinners with important people and decent wine?

Maybe he used Labour's former Minister of Wine and Cheese, Jonathan Hunt as his role model?

Well, you know all this anyway – but I couldn't help but think what poor shape Labour is in today (internally) if all this can be going on . . . and it drives Mr Goff to say “bullshit”.

They need a Malcolm Tucker in there to sort things out maybe?
Every party does right now.

What also happened just as we got back was Hone Harawira's version of that famous British newspaper headline in the mid 60s: “Would you let your daughter marry a Rolling Stone?”

If his comments about not letting his kids date a Pakeha weren't so laughable they would be . . . well, laughable.

After Mr Harawira's previous gaffes/profanity-ridden e-mails and so on he was sent home for a while. It occurred to me then, and I still believe this, he needed to see more of the world, not less.

Sending him to a place where his narrow worldview might be confirmed rather than challenged (as seems to have happened, given these recent comments) seems counterproductive.

This one just bewilders me in the 21st century – and especially so because of what we had just been to in Samoa, a family gathering of descendants of a couple who married there 140 years ago.

He – Montgomery Betham, age 38 – was a Englishman from a small town my wife and I made a visit to last year, and she – the magnificently named Catherine Anna Silveira Nobre de Graca aka Anna Silva, age 17 – was of Portuguese/Samoan parents.

They had nine children . . . and their children had children . . . and so on.

We were there for many days of church services (I heard more prayers in five days than in the previous decade), meeting distant cousins of my wife and her family (I was the outsider) and eating in marathon stretches.

It was wonderful and after the final church service we all lined up and had our photo taken, all 350 of us from Germany, the States, Australia, New Zealand and of course both Samoas. Some people had Chinese forebears, one Samoan woman from San Antonio was married to a Mexican, my wife had married me of a Scottish family, one of her sisters married a man born in Ireland . . .

So goes the way of the world.

Of course we would be naïve to think of the planet as moving towards one great melting pot: the United States – not to mention hermetically sealed North Korea – has given the lie to that quaint notion.

People do like to stick with like – witness the Kiwis who flock to London only to do a bad haka on Waitangi Day and sing along with Jordan Luck, Fat Freddy's and Dave Dobbyn when they come to town.

They didn't call Earls Court “Kangaroo Court” for nothing, either.

But to be proscriptive about who you want your kids to take up with?

So we came back to a country where no one wants to admit the economy is decline (Paul Holmes right on the money here), the education system is struggling, unemployment is up . . . and where the best a former Alliance MP can come up with is opening a brothel for women for a reality television show?

Weirdness abounds in this wee place. You gotta laugh, really.

But once again, by being away, I was reminded there is a complex world beyond our borders where cultures collide, mix, mingle, find common ground and points of difference . . .

The more I see of it, the less I know what are certainties.

What I do know is that I still like waking up in a strange country – even if it is sometimes my own.

Word Up: Just a reminder to those of you who were interested in The Creative Hub, the writing centre in premises at the Maritime Museum in Auckland which the novelist/writing tutor John Cranna and I have established.

Our first courses – his in creative fiction, mine in travel writing (and everyone wants to know the secret of that game, huh?) – start the first week in September and enrollments are being taken now.

Details of The Creative Hub and the guests we have scheduled – and which has on the advisory panel the high respected writers Owen Marshall, Tessa Duder and Paula Morris, and our very own host here, the illustrious Russell Brown – are all here. Look forward to hearing from you.

You doubtless have stories to tell, and we want to help.

And finally: Elsewhere is now reconfigured for easier navigation: I have created separate sections for reggae, world music and jazz for those of you who specifically like those musics – but under New Music From Elsewhere you will still find around a dozen new albums reviewed every week. This week Cyndi Lauper goes to Memphis and gets the blues, obscure Fifties rock'n'roll, jazz and not, Sarah McLachlan and much more . . .

And at From the Vaults I am posting new and different (strange, rare, weird) music every week, from Kurt Vonnegut to John Cale, George Formby to Tom Waits, Lesley Gore to Dean Martin.

This week at From the Vaults it is strange covers – today actor Sebastian Cabot reading Dylan (Bob not Thomas).

DVDs and books considered, articles, overviews and interviews also. Elsewhere is becoming increasingly . . . elsewhere?

Another stranger on our shore.

A little over a week ago, on clear and silent Sunday in Suva, I picked up a rental and went for a drive.

I headed north for a while then looped back towards the city centre through the suburbs and backstreets, past the houses of the wealthy and the most meagre and squalid dwellings.

Everywhere people were going to the temples of their many faiths – or the beach.

There were an impressive number of educational institutions from schools and colleges to training centres, religious institutions, private schools . . ..

I then drove to the south coast and headed to Sigatoga with the radio on, scanning frequently to pick up the BBC World Service, local Hindi pop, hymns, Fijian church services, what sounded like German soccer . . .

Once outside the sprawl of Suva – and yes, it does feel like half a million people in the greater area – the countryside, lush tropical stands and cleared acreage, was beautiful.

Along the way I stopped to chat with people where it seemed appropriate – and they were all friendly.

At one scrappy “beach” – little more than a clearing by the water – I spoke with a man out walking his baby in a stroller. We agreed it was a beautiful day and then he said, “Excuse me sir, can I ask you for something. I need to buy some milk for my baby . . .”

Later I drove past fields of grass and dairy cows (I am told the grass is hopeless for dairy production but New Zealanders are working with locals on dairy initiatives) and drove in to look at a few of these resorts that people speak highly of. They did look beautiful escapes – I was surprised how many young people who looked more like backpackers were staying in a couple, possibly special deals offered? – and the Pearl has a magnificent golf course, if that is your thing.

I passed slowly through tiny and tidy villages, chatted with kids at a river crossing. Closer to Sigatoga and the resorts thereabouts – like gated communities behind low or high walls – the villages seemed more conspicuously well off. The trickle-down economics we heard so much about, perhaps?

On a beach I saw a handsome young Fijian boy leading a horse along the white sand. On the horses back were two pale children with haloes of curly blond hair. It was worth a photo.

I have never understood why people would want to shield themselves from the country they are in by staying in a self-contained resort – but each to their own. And I accept many people work extremely hard and so for those few days when they can drop out of life they want a slice of undisturbed, cocktail-hour paradise.

But maybe some people also shield themselves from what they think Fiji might really be like?

If you read the New Zealand government's travel advisory (where, on a Google search, Fiji appears as direct link along with the Middle East and Africa) some of it seems unduly alarmist or over-cautious.

In four days – I walked all around Suva, drove one day unhindered and went out for a few hours around the coast for half a day with another couple of people – I encountered no police checkpoints, and the only soldiers I saw were lounging around in an abandoned but grand old hotel which I wanted to look through. They waved me in cheerfully and one young guy accompanied me around.

Maybe I was lucky, but I never once felt threatened – other by hospitality which resulted in quite a lot of kava being drunk one night – and at no time was I impeded or prevented from doing anything I wanted to do.

At the museum where I arrived late one day the woman at desk wrote something on my ticket which would allow me free entry the following day so I could have a better look around. Nice.

This is not to deny that censorship or military rule exists, but I would also note that at the museum I picked up a copy of Tutaka, “the quarterly newsletter of the Citizen's Constitutional Forum Ltd” – and the lead article was about the CCF requesting the government to commence inclusive political dialogue to find a way back to sustainable elected democracy.

The article noted that the CCF Chief Executive Officer Rev Akuila Yabaki said, “Since independence in 1970, Fiji's economy has performed better under elected governments.
Human rights and freedoms have been better enjoyed by people under elected governments”.

The reverend was also on record saying the government should urgently reconsider parts of the Media Industry development Decree (which I outlined here).

There was much more along these lines too: dissenting voices in other words.

The most frequent comment made to me, by people from across the spectrum, was that the governments of Australia and New Zealand were misrepresenting the situation in Fiji (and our media which selectively shows images and runs stories against the interim government) and that their dogmatic postions had been counter-productive to dialogue.

Everyone agreed that the former government of Qarase was endemically corrupt and something had to be done. Commodore Bainimarama was reluctantly in his position, said one gentleman from Australia who had worked – and still was working – closely with the Fijian judicial system.

He also noted that many good people in Fiji -- the most educated and qualified in areas of the judiciary, economics and the like – would not step forward into positions where theey could actually be useful in turning the direction of Fiji because of the travel bans imposed by Australia and New Zealand.

This was utterly counter-productive, he said.

Either he or I noted that currently New Zealand is kissing up big time to China, a country with an appalling human rights record, and yet Fiji . . .

One Fijian laughed and said, “You have bad day with the big boss at work and he kicks you, so you come home and you kick someone smaller there”. A crude analogy but you could fit China, New Zealand and Fiji into that image if you wished.

New Zealanders were too constrained by the moral high ground of democracy when it came to Fiji, said someone else, and because of that we had lost influence.

The Chinese – currently building a massive new embassy – along with the Taiwanese, Koreans, Japanese and other counties (Australia and NZ included, to be fair) are engaging with aid and development programs.

I was told Fiji is powerful player in Pacific politics (and we shouldn't discount its mineral and fisheries wealth) but by refusing to talk – and this goes both ways now – the influence of the Chinese is growing.

They don't care whether Fiji is a democracy, military dictatorship or a tin pot banana republic.

As someone who is always suspicious of a story which quotes a guide or a taxi driver, I mention this with hesitation . . . but on my final day I took a cab from Suva to the airport for a flight across the beautiful, seriously mountainous, island to Nadi.

On the way my driver – a wizened Indian gentleman who had one adult son in Maramarua and another who had been to New Zealand but came back to Suva “because Kiwi place was too cold” – told me he thought the budget of a couple of days previous (which I mentioned at the end of the last post) had been fair.

It was good for him because he might be able to get a better car (please god he would, it was falling to pieces around us) and that Bainimarama was doing good for the poor people.

I don't know if he considered himself poor – his wife rang to say the two roosters in the house were fighting and wanted to know what she should she do – but he told me owned the car and the house.

“But politics for every peoples everywhere is a headache.”

True enough.

My time in and around Suva was brief, enjoyable, sometimes problematic and always interesting. As with any city or country I think you can have your preconceptions confirmed.

A man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest, as Paul Simon once sang.

I have two photos among my many of Fiji, they could be signifiers if you wish to read them that way.

One is of that tropical paradise we see in seductive brochures, so beautiful in its cliched escapist perfection; the other is of a grubby strip of sand held in place by a retaining wall of old tyres and covered in styro-foam containers, plastic bags, beer bottles, soft drink cans . .

Which Fiji do you, or want to, believe?

Fiji, it seems to me, is both.

And of course, neither.

In other news: Elsewhere is back in big business. Among the many music reviews posted are the rarest of rare Bob Dylan (when he was 20), Afro-beat from Brixton, the new Alejandro Escovedo (sounding like classic Hello Sailor in places!), The Broken Heartbreakers polished diamond, Ed Harcourt . . and many more, with a track and video.

Every day I am posting a new one-off track at From the Vaults so check out the “risque” stylings of Auckland drag act of the Sixties/Seventies Noel McKay alongside faux-Beatles, Pavlov's Dog, the foul-mouthed Lucille Bogan and many, many more.

There are also DVD and book reviews to divert you from your work. Today's give-away to subscribers will be a mix-bag of 10 “elsewhere” CDs. That will happen later today.

If you wish to subscribe, it is free, then go here quick-smart.

Enjoy.

At the end of last week a few letters started appearing in the Fiji Times: the writers were saying it would be a shame if the paper (founded in 1869) were to close because of the Media Decree announced earlier in the week.

There had been no suggestion in the Times that I could see that it would close – indeed there had been no editorial comment on the Decree and its impact in the days following its announcement – but that may well be the result. Or not.

With Fiji it is sometimes hard to predict anything, as we know.

But the new Media Decree – all 37 pages available on-line here – certainly has provisions which make life difficult, if not impossible, for journalists to do their work in a free and unhindered way.

Which some would say is the intention.

Briefly I will outline some of the most important points here.

But would also note that while the Herald here editorialised strongly against these changes here , the Fiji government website link to the Decree had only received 123 hits as of the time of this writing – and the Decree was announced in a week ago.

I have to also observe that although I tried to engage a number of people in conversation about it while in the country, people were hardly exercised or excited by it.

And by-the-by, although I also invited Public Address readers to discuss whether they would travel to Fiji if they had the opportunity, fewer than 20 have entered the discussion thread.

People in New Zealand seem about as concerned as most Fijians, I guess. Or as my wife suggested, it is school holidays so maybe all Public Address readers are in Fiji on holiday with the kids.

Anyway . . .

The first point about the Media Decree is the one which received the most coverage here on announcement: that media organisations had to have 90 percent local ownership – which would mean the Fiji Times divesting itself (or being divested of) the controlling ownership by Rupert Murdoch.

When I mentioned this to some people in Suva – educated business people of all persuasions – they shrugged, and a couple noted that there were local business people rich enough to buy the Times (whether they would want to in the current climate – political, impact of the internet etc – remains a moot point). Another pointed out that people in most countries would prefer local ownership of their media organisations.

This latter point is true – Lord knows I remember many journalists bemoaning the “Irish owners” of the Herald – but of course there is a great difference between wanting and compulsion.

That is a serious issue for the Fiji Times.

But there are other matters equally significant.

Anyone holding an interest in more than one media organisation has a year to dispose of an interest in excess of 5 percent (non-voting) held in a different medium. (Internet providers, AV companies and telcom service providers are excepted).

There are other regulations, some of which directly affect how journalists can do their jobs. Or can not.

When the new Decree comes into effect (in fewer than three months) journalists must reveal to interviewees whether others will be interviewed in connection with the article. Those interviewed must know when the article will be printed or broadcast, whether it may be edited and whether only part or none of the interview will be used.

I guess that gets rid of sub-editors and editing suites, huh?

That actually seems unworkable. But again, some would say that is the point.

The Decree also says, “The presentation and editing of an interview must not distort or misrepresent the views of the interviewee or give a false impression of dialogue . . .”

Our gut response might be to agree with that . . . but distortion and misrepresentation are hard to define and will be in the eye of the beholder, or interviewee. Or, most likely, lawyers.

The Decree also gives to the Media Industry Development Authority the power to ask for documents or information from the media organisations it investigates. (The media may however withhold the identities of sources if the information relates to corruption or abuse of office by a public official.)

Media organisations or individuals not cooperating with the Authority when obliged to are liable for hefty fines (Fiji$10,000 or two years imprisonment; rule of thumb here, the Fiji dollar is about 75% of the Kiwi so you do the maths.)

There is more . . . but those are the main points for those who can't wade through those pages on the Fiji government website.

If there was largely silence – or at least the discussion was barely audible in many circles – the Consumer Council welcomed the provisions covering advertising to children: no realistic toy weapons which could be confused with the real thing; nothing encouraging anti-social behaviour; no ads showing kids urging parents to buy them products; no suggesting a child who doesn't have a product is inferior . . .

Let me mention the backdrop into which this Decree was announced.

The Decree was announced on Monday last week, the revised Budget was announced on Friday morning (the same day as the Decree was gazetted).

And the Budget, again as far as I could tell by conversations whenever I could and from published comments, was very well received.

Yes, airport departure tax went up 25% (tourism operators and airlines said it wouldn't affect travel) and there was 12.5% VAT imposed on general insurance except medical and worker's compensation (again, a shrug . . . and the acknowledgment that insurers will just pass it on as always.)

But duty on cars not exceeding 1500cc was reduced from 32% to 15% (to get newer and more economic cars and taxis on the road), and duty on buses dropped from 32% to 5% (to get the battered fume-spewing clunkers of the road and newer replacements).

People were pretty happy with that.

Jet-ski duty also went down from 32% to 5% and adventure tourism and resort people smiled.

Imported fresh and chilled veggies however went way up: from 5% to 15% and this was to encourage people to grow more produce locally. Many people thought that was a good idea – and everyone observed it wasn't like there was a shortage of useful land. Hell, shove it in the ground and it grows.

There was a reduction in corporate tax and the threshold for income tax moved from $8000 to $15,000.

Elsewhere education, health and the Ministry of Women, Poverty Alleviation and Social Welfare budgets were cut – these are revisions down from the previous budget – but the Ministry of Works had more money because of donors.

And most interesting – because people on all sides of the political opinion on Fiji will read into this what they will – 300 more staff came under defence and Fiji Military Forces were given an $8.6 million increase because of higher operating expenses.

The police budget went down $800,000.

By and large people – from Indian shopkeepers to business people I spoke to, and those speaking in the media over the following days – thought it a sensible, mature and workable budget.

I mentioned the increase in the military budget to some people over drinks and they grumbled a little, then one said, “Yes, but remember when there was flooding and the army moved in, they cleaned up Suva in a day”.

There was much nodding.

I said I often wished our military would respond to civil emergencies.

Wouldn't like the idea of more noisy jet-skis though.

In a footnote here: On the New Zealand government travel advisory website it says Fiji is “some risk” (minuscule in my experience, unless you count drivers who work at minimum tolerance level to pedestrians in Suva) and that “Media are now subject to censorship and a police presence is being maintained in major media outlets.”

I have no doubt of the censorship, it's the law, but as to the later . . .

Last Friday I walked into the office of the Fiji Times on Victoria Parade in search of a week of back-copies to get myself up to speed.

I had come in at the advertising entrance but they buzzed me in through the door to the main floor where I ambled around looking for the circulation department, asking a couple of people who cheerfully pointed me onward, until I finally came to the other entrance. There was a security guy there I walked past because I could see the circulation “office” (one man, an old computer and stacks of papers).

I saw no police presence – not to say it wasn't there but I did have a leisurely walk around.

Of course I guess they aren't looking over my shoulder but that of a reporter?

I don't know.

On Monday I called the Fiji Times to see if I could meet the editor (out of the country) and twice called to ask for the deputy editor (in meetings). Then I had to leave.

(Next and final Fiji post soon: an observational overview – and not from a poolside bar in a resort.)

Last week I was invited to go, at very short notice, to Suva as a guest of Air Pacific and Destination Suva.

The occasion was the re-opening of a direct Air Pacific link between Auckland and Suva which had been suspended three years ago. (There were issues over the runway, not a political reason behind the cessation of services.)

Over the years I had weighed up travel to Fiji and what the implications (on many levels, some personal) might be.

So I had to think again about the idea of going to Fiji to write about Suva, a city I have never been to.

I am sometimes made such offers and turn many of them down for various reasons – time, availability, whether or not a story might get published if I hate a place and say so – and I am always honest with those offering a travel opportunity.

I say as a freelance writer I can not guarantee publication (but of course it is my best interests to be published and therefore paid) and I approach editors in advance to test their interest (which may not be as great as mine).

The editors I speak with know that I will say what I found and not simply be driven by “selling the destination” – and so that can often mean a struggle after the fact.

My story about godawful BSB in Brunei – which I paid for myself to see – languished for a long time before it saw the light of day. (The expanded version is in The Idiot Boy Who Flew, see below)

Other “negative” stories have never been published even though I wrote them – and am thus out of pocket but satisfied I kept some degree of integrity. I pay for a lot of travel myself, incidentally.

Anyway, Suva: I thought about it and said I would approach travel editors and see what they said.

The first one said he would take a story about Suva from me.

But I also thought about it some more, asked a few other journalists their opinion (all of whom said “Go”) and even a couple of friends whose response was “Wow, cool”. When I pointed out the politics pertaining to Fiji they said, 'Oh yeah, right, But . . .”

Everyone, rather flatteringly, said they would be very interested to read what I made of the place.

And then the news broke about the new Media Industry Development Decree in Fiji which, among other things, gave news organisations (like the Fiji Times morning paper) three months to divest themselves of foreign monopoly ownership. The decree required 90 percent local ownership for media companies.

"Fiji Times, which is owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Ltd, have been given three months to ensure they comply with the requirements of the media decree or cease operations altogether," said Mr Sayed-Khaiyum, head of Fiji's Attorney General's office.

Tim Pankhurst, secretary of the New Zealand Media Freedom Committee said the measures were part of a disturbing trend towards dictatorship, and another reason New Zealanders should boycott travelling to Fiji.

That of course made me pause and think again.

As someone who has had the privilege of working within one of the most unfettered media in the world, I reflexively support a free and unconstrained press.

But – and that “but” is not to qualify that position – I have sometimes thought the media jumps in with special pleading for itself when others, civilians, have suffered longer and worse than journalists.

I accept this new decree was emblematic of greater restrictions and not just about the rights of journalists or businesses – but I, like many New Zealand journalists, have been to places where I certainly didn't approve of the government or the constraints on the press.

I can well recall in '95 and '97 in Vietnam witnessing the most appalling shakedowns of locals by soldiers, police or stand-over goons from the Party. Which I later wrote about, either for the Herald or in my books.

I, again like many other journalists, have been to China (nope, not a junket to Bejing for the Olympics) and other such places where the human rights record is more than just worrying.

What I also know however are that the bold certainties of headlines and soundbites disappear with proximity to a situation. A headline written from a distance cannot account for nuance and subtlety, or even what might be the reality of life on the ground.

I have always tried to report that fairly, often through how politics impacts on ordinary people.

So I went to Suva on Friday – as did a couple of people from Campbell Live, a journalist from Radio Tarana, a guy from a travel trade organisation and a planeload of mostly Indian families. We were also joined by Fiji television (and possibly print, I didn't get a chance to ask) journalists.

At the airport the Fiji camera crews (but not Campbell Live) filmed the trio of guitarists singing Fijian songs at check-in, and John Banks who was there with Air Pacific CEO Dave Pflieger. (Pflieger flew up with us, in economy)

(The Air Pacific Group which includes the regional airline Pacific Sun is, incidentally, owned 51 percent by the Fiji government, 46.23 by Qantas, Air NZ 1.94 and the rest by the governments of Kiribati, Tonga, Samoa and Nauru.)

John Banks made a speech about the importance of ties between Auckland and Suva (population in the greater area of around 500,000 which rather surprised me) and, yes, he mentioned the Supercity. I would have been surprised had he not.

A little later the passengers in the transit lounge (predominantly Indian I remind you) applauded as Banks cut the ribbon (a woman behind me said “Amen”) and we went aboard as the band sang Isa Lei.

At the last minute I was given an upgrade and sat where the other journalists were.

On board Pflieger made a brief speech of welcome – he impressed me as a nice guy – and we took off.

When we reached Suva we circled for about 15 minutes, landed and then had to taxi back again – to allow dignitaries to arrive it transpired – and the enthusiastic television crews from Fiji bailed off first to get footage of the disembarking passengers who were met by Commodore Frank Bainimarama.

I, by chance, was the second person off and – after getting a shell necklace – inadvertently bypassed the handshakes and headed straight to Customs as usual . . . but after a few minutes standing there alone realised I should double back for the reception.

Most of the passengers were lining up shake Bainimarama's hand and have their photo taken with him.

In a reception room of the terminal where there were local business people and cabinet ministers, there were a couple more speeches and Bainimarama – in a casual shirt – spoke of the flight bringing smiles to Suva, and of the importance of tourism in the country's recovery strategy.

I scribbled a few notes – again, curiously, TV3 filmed nothing – and what I got was that Air Pacific has 950 employees, tourism is worth about $600 million and is 11 percent of Fiji's GDP, and that 68 percent of all tourists came through Air Pacific.

So this was an important day.

Bainimarama said he wanted us to know that Fiji was “as beautiful as ever and we welcome you to our shores”.
A lot of local heads nodded in agreement.

A minister (religious) was invited to give a blessing – as he stepped forward a champagne cork popped and the room dissolved into laughter – and among other things he thanked Bainimarama for his “wisdom”.

There was a speech by the willowy Miss South Pacific (whose name I didn't get) who may have been unprepared but was extremely eloquent.

Then we journalists headed for the minicab to take us in to Suva.

So I was in Fiji . . .

The question is: given the opportunity, would you have been?

(In the next post I will write about the Media Decree and its ramifications, then in the last I will offer a final and hopefully fair and honest overview of my experiences in and around Suva.)

When my kids were little they had a picture book called Leo the Late Bloomer. It was, if I recall, about a lion cub who developed rather more slowly than others: a late bloomer.

My kids were all late bloomers.

I could blame the book for this, but I was a late bloomer too.

In fact the other day a guy I knew at school sent me an e-mail reminding me of this. He'd had a work accident and so was at home , and had been spending his days looking around Elsewhere.

He e-mailed to say how much he enjoyed it, and was impressed by my broad range of interests from music to travel and architecture -- which surprised him because “you were dummer than a cow-pat at school”.

True.

I was a happy kid but the despair of my loving parents who were convinced my being placed in lower forms was all some kind of inexplicable mistake. They were horrified when I went into 3C at secondary school when my friends were mostly in 3A, or at worse in 3B.

Fortunately at the end of the first term there were internal exams which would rectify this terrible injustice.

I went down to 3D.

I passed School Cert (222 for those who care, English and – oddly enough – maths pulled me through), but failed UE.

I eventually went to university and was thrown out after two years for “failure to make academic progress”.

Without going into detail I became a teacher, got a degree, went into journalism, wrote a couple of successful travel books, now do some lecturing at Auckland Uni . . .

Like my parents – my mum left school at 14, my dad at 15, which explains why they felt I was “wasting an opportunity” they never had – I think I was largely self-taught. “Stuff” interested me so I would try to find out about it.

My intellectual development started to come together in my mid to late 20s.

I was – like Leo – a late bloomer.

This is perhaps why I just breathe through my nose when I hear people say how poorly their kids are doing at school.

I think it was the guys behind Beavis and Butthead who said when they went to speak to kids they made the point to them that high-school wasn't everything, it didn't define you for the rest of your life.

I – of course – have always believed that.

So if your children have come to the end of this semester failing to meet your, or the teachers', expectations – and I hope you aren't anxious if they are barely out of nappies but “behind the rest of the class” – then breathe through your nose.

There are a lot of late bloomers out there.

And some of us – my kids, now in their 30s and in London and Stockholm, included – are doing pretty interesting things.

I know I am.

With John Cranna – former chair of the Auckland Society of Authors, award-winning novelist and founder of the Centre for Modern Writing at AUT in 2007 – I am in partnership to assist aspiring writers.

John – whose successful AUT courses have provided the model for his aspect of his course – has formed The Creative Hub , a writing centre in downtown Auckland.

John's advanced fiction course (currently running) is full, but he starts a new creative writing course in September for those wishing to work on a novel or some kind of long-form fiction.

And for The Creative Hub we have a terrific, central venue down on Princes Wharf with a harbour view.

There are some of the country's finest writers involved as mentors and tutors in workshops – and me.

I am initially taking the travel writing course (because, among other things, that's what I do: travel-then-write) which is six weeks of two hour sessions on Tuesday evenings at 6pm starting in early September.

As a small inducement for those enrolling early, the first 10 people will get copies of both of my travel books. . For free.

The Creative Hub is scrupulously professional, based on successful overseas models more than Bill Manhire's creative writing course in Wellington, and we also offers a manuscript assessment service.

There will be a course in writing for children, and further fiction and non-fiction courses, added for next year.

We won't be searching students for weapons or drugs, there is no dress code or uniform. The Creative Hub is for adults.

We are serious, moving confidently but with care, and are very excited about its possibilities because there are stories out there waiting to be told.

The Creative Hub would suit aspiring writers – both creative and non-fiction with flair – who have some life experiences behind them, and stories to tell.

Late bloomers maybe?