A short trip from Vanuatu takes you to a series of small Islands. On one of these Islands, Tanna, I spent a few days exploring only having prior knowledge of the active volcano and Captain Cooks arrival in the 1800’s. The most surprising experience was during a walk into the depth of the islands jungle I encountered three boys enjoying a waterfall. After taking a few photos and a swim in a idillic setting I head off in the opposite direction, my intention to find their tiny remote village. Apart from a visiting 4x4 which somehow got there as well it was is if time had stood still. It seemed primitive and trapped in a time warp, but also a delight seen from the luxury of someone with a tertiary education and many life choices. Later that evening I discovered from a group of volcanologist accommodating in the same Jungle Oasis camp, that the island had a reputation of recent cannibalism and black magic. Not sure if this was why the village was untouched or a ploy to encourage tourism in this very remote part of Tanna, which is in itself a speck in the Pacific Ocean. The Island had spectacular ocean life, caves, active volcanoes, colourful jungle, ash plains and all who I met were lovely natural people. The most memorable aspect was to the top of Mt Yasur, alone atop a rumbling volcano from sunset until I left the lower crater at 3am. It was a risk. Now, that experience is etched within me forever, it was a release from our pampered PC risk adverse world. Life saving advice was given the night before by a French volcanologist, “Do not run away if lava bombs are falling around you, instead watch them an dodge”. Besides being still molten rock they are falling at speed and in examining one just landed it was the size and shape of a large cow pack, smelling of gunpowder, glowing and making the crackling sounds of an overheated engine cooling down.