Oi, Aussies!

The life of a DINK throws forth some mighty challenges, not least of which is just where to jet off to 3 times a year for some R, R and our other friend, R. (That would be rest, relaxation and recreation)

This time, we chose Vanuatu, which thanks to the Garish Fish Catcher, was about half price since the last time we perused this option (and settled then on Fiji). It's a pretty cool place, all in all. Fabbo food, beautiful beaches, chilled peeps and everyone speaks Anglais. In fact, this is partly because every damn tourist and business owner there is a damn Aussie. Wayyyyyy too many of those nasal tones greeting these old ears. And apparently, there are no taxes in Vanuatu, thusly leading to a veritable explosion of Aussie small-business people.

Being the socially conscious git that I am, I find this vaguely disquieting, almost akin to a past, colonial era when the white man spread his exploitative tentacles across the globe in search of gold, minerals and arable land. Notwithstanding the socialistic murmurings within my chest, we came to a few conclusions regarding this whole baby caper.

Stay tuned.