Visiting Ela Beach by PMV

Sue says:

Sunday afternoon was another hot day, so we wanted to find somewhere cooler. Were we brave enough to try a PMV (public motor vehicle or bus) ride to Ela Beach, the city playground, on our own? We were.

We walked up to the Waigani market bus stop and asked people which buses to take and how much to pay. Then it was time to jump on.

You do pretty much have to "jump" on. People push and get in front of you. You have to be determined to get on. We let a couple buses go by that were overly crowded. When one with the right number and plenty of space came by, it was our turn.

The paying of fares is a little different here. You get on and start going, and then you pass your fare, hand to hand, to the conductor or boskru. We are often told to pay higher fares than locals, so Jeff tried handing up what it looked like other people were paying. The boskru took it without a blink.

At Four Mile, we had been told we must change, so we got out at that stop. Nothing there of interest: a gambling den, shops that were closed on Sunday. So, we again asked directions. It is pretty fun to be able to speak pidgin and work things out.

Our second bus came right along, and in no time we were jumping off at Ela Beach. The beaches we've seen here are nice family places. Everyone dressed modestly. Folks playing basketball, volleyball and soccer. Little kids running in and out of the water. Boy, the sea breeze felt good! But where, oh, where, was the ice cream man?

A couple unusual things (for here) were going on. One guy was hang gliding. Lots of folks were watching him as though they hadn't seen such a thing before. And, a group of locals was baptizing new Christians in the (Coral) sea. That wasn't attracting as much attention as the hang glider.

It doesn't take long for the sun to go down in the tropics. About five o'clock we thought we'd better head back to our flat. All good folks are inside before dark here.

There were crowds of people waiting at the bus stop. We all waited a longer time than usual. When the right bus did come by, folks were extra pushy. Some jumped in the opened windows. After about three of our bus number went by jam full, a police officer came out of the station by the stop. We stood out as the only white folks there, so he asked us if we knew where we were going. He let us know a number of pick-pockets were in the pushy crowds.

Seeing the officer talking to us, the next boskru asked us where we wanted to go, held all the pushy people off his bus, and told us two to get on. Then he allowed the other people on. We wouldn't have asked for that treatment, but we were thankful for it.

Back at the Waigani market, we found our ice cream at a petrol station "mini mart". And the two ice creams cost more than our fares to the city and back (two ice creams, US $2.25 and two round trip fares $1.60).

As we licked our ice creams, we walked back to the CLTC Centre. It was pretty dark. Two young men and a young woman were walking behind us. The guys had the gal ask us (in English) if we knew where we were and where we were going. We assured them we were going to the CLTC Centre close by. They said they were two brothers and a sister going to their home not far from our destination.

Moresby has a reputation for raskols, and they are here. But we're thankful for many helpful people here too.