LEVUKA, FIJI
– THE HOUSE ON THE HILL
Levuka on the
astonishingly beautiful island of Ovalau has many worthy claims to fame. For a
start back in the 1870’s this sun drenched jewel of the Pacific was the capital
and seat of Fiji’s first government; then more recently Levuka was granted a
rare privilege by becoming Fiji’s first Unesco World Heritage Site; but in
1877, of far more importance for me, sleepy little Levuka became the birthplace
of my grandmother Maggie Maud McGowan.
(I rather think that day great grandmama Geraldine was in an
alphabetically repetitive mood)
Maggie’s
parents Geraldine and William
So, naturally
for me a visit to Levuka meant an emotional walk down memory lane, a chance to
follow in the footsteps of my great grandparents and to soak up the colonial
history of this idyllic part of the world. The fact that I was making this
visit in the company of an Aussie cousin whose grandfather Alfred James was Maggie
Maud’s brother made the visit even more special. Jenny Gallagher and I had already met our
newly found Fiji cousins in Suva, more of
that happy reunion in a later blog, and now here we were on our way to
Levuka.
GETTING THERE
The journey
from Suva to Levuka is an adventure in itself.
First you board a bus at Suva’s bus depot, a two hour trip – sometimes longer if you allow for the quaint
irregularity of Fiji Time- followed by an hour long voyage in a vehicle
ferry, and once on Ovalau another hour long bus trip around the perimeter of
the island to Levuka… all of this onboard
the same bus you departed from Suva.
For Jenny and
I the crossing from the larger island of Viti Levu to the craggy mountain
capped island of Ovalau revived thoughts of our great grandfather, the ship’s
captain William McGowan who sailed these very seas back before Fiji was annexed
to England.
WHEN BEST
MADE PLANS….
But what do
you do when the accommodation you’ve booked apologizes profusely that they’ve double
booked and have no room in the Inn for us two?
Easy: You instantly remember a friend who has in the past invited you to
stay, whose home sits atop one of Levuka’s famous 100 steps or so stairways…and
which not surprisingly is why unfit me has so far avoided taking up that offer.
*
But now the
situation has changed. Jenny and I urgently need accommodation in a town with
only a few places to stay. I email Rowena who lives mostly in Australia,
embarrassed that I’m obviously taking advantage of our friendship.
‘Aha!’ she replies
‘you get to climb the stairs after all.
No worries I’ll call Ana and Jerry and tell them you’re coming. Just hop off the bus at the terminus and
wait.’
And on this
brief instruction we do… and we’re both so glad we did because Paradise
awaited.
THE HOUSE ON
TOP OF THE HILL
Way back in
the 1970’s when I made my first pilgrimage to Levuka, and long before it was
made a World Heritage site, I stayed in a guest house on one of the sloping
hills that rise from Levuka’s narrow ocean frontage. On that visit I had only to climb a mere 15
or so steps, but at the top of that same stairway there was another house. I could see it as I gazed up.
Photos Levuka old and new – Reg Patterson & the stairway
I was to
discover very soon that the home’s elderly owner, Reg Patterson had been a
young boy when my grandmother Maggie married her American husband Charles Brown
Parker back in 1900, and he remembered the wedding well. Why? Because my grandfather brought his new
fangled gramophone player to the ceremony and young Reg, and all the other guests
had never seen or heard anything like it.
Back then the rest of those steps up the hill to the Patterson house
didn’t look so steep to a much younger me, and so I made my first visit to the
house on the hill. Reg, and after him
his wife Dora passed away and in the intervening years the house was neglected
and soon sunk into disrepair.
Until my
friend Rowena in Australia bought the property and transformed the sad old
house into a residence of beauty. A
house, Jenny and I, in the tropical darkness of night, each clasping our
suitcases now waited for Jerry, Rowena’s housekeeper to guide us to safely up
the hill
*
Accordingly
and apropos Fiji Time we arrived in
the small township of Levuka in darkness. No street lights to illuminate the
way…along with sunken ships and damaged
homes the 'struggling to repair' after
affects of Cyclone Winston… and waited for someone to approach us. Jerry did and then we were in a taxi and just
seconds later arrived at the halfway point beyond which there was no road.
From there we
climbed up the hill, not on the stairway but over and up the grassed and planted
grounds to the house above. A torch revealed the path.
Puffing and
gasping… the two of us aren’t young girls
any more… we were welcomed at the house by Jerry’s gentle wife Ana, a tour
of the house and a prepared meal. Then
our hosts retired to their cottage in the grounds and we were left to laugh in
delight at just how lucky we were.
Rest assured, by the time we left Levuka just three days later we had
that hill licked; OK so we weren’t
exactly sprinting up and down like gazelles,
but we no longer gasped for breath.
Levuka 1870’s and Now – Church where Maggie was married – now &
surviving the 1895 cyclone.
Our visit to
Levuka was mostly to pay homage to the McGowans, our great-grandparents and to
their children…young William, Alfred (Jenny’s grandfather) Gordon, Maggie (my
grandmother) Andrew and little Constance McGowan who sadly died at birth just
months after her father passed away. The
house they lived in we couldn’t find, but the school our grandparents attended
still stood sentinel amid newly built classrooms. We walked past the church where my Maggie
married her American beau, past the shops Great-Gran Geraldine had dallied in
and no doubt exchanged the gossip of the day, past the wharf where Captain
William McGowan had brought his inter island ships back to port, and on to the
cemetery where we found Jenny’s two
year old uncle Roland McGowan’s grave stone.
We passed
through the busy main thoroughfare of Levuka, running beside and parallel to
the ocean, being greeted by dozens of smiling faces and replying to their
constant ‘Bula’ with smiles of our own and the same greeting. Fijians are friendly by instinct and even the
smallest child will offer the same refrain…
‘Bula’ matched with the widest of grins.
Where once
sailors, adventurers and traders from numerous nations, Tonga, New Zealand,
Samoa, Hawaii, America, Germany, China, England and Australia had mingled and plied
their trade we passed by small reminders of their existence in this once upon a
time busy and bustling crossroad of the world.
How exciting and exotic life must have been back then when Geraldine and
William pledged their vows and their children were mere babes.
The House on
the Hill
The house on
the hill had woven its special magic. From high above the slow daily bustle of Levuka
we looked over and beyond to the blue horizon, entranced by the view of endless ocean, distant islands and
behind us, standing sentinel the tall mountains of Ovalau...
Jenny and me with our hosts Ana and Jerry.
Inside The House on the Hill
We each, Jenny and I, had achieved our goal, to walk in the footsteps of our
grandparents Alfred and his wife Ellen, and Maggie and her Chas, and to marvel at our great
grand parents Geraldine and William, their short but fruitful time together, and in doing this we came closer to
understanding the deep bond with Fiji, and Levuka in particular, that our Maggie and
Alfred and their brothers took with them to their grave.
That bond now
belongs to us, and we will return, the simple, friendly charm of Levuka, of Ovalau
itself, the people, their history and the town’s World Heritage title exudes a
powerful magic.
Loloma Levuka
***
A postscript to this story: Rowena is now in the process of setting up
her beautiful home as an AirBnB retreat, with her friends and caretakers, Ana
and Jerry, Managers and Hosts of the House on the Hill. Thank you Rowena for making our visit the success it was.
Robyn
Mortimer 2016-06-10
