Tell me about it! I love coconut - just not the duck-bill-lips it gives me!
As we hit the road, Pati began to tell me and the other passengers all about Saletoga Sands. Although it was late and we were tired, Pati's humorous legends about Samoa and its people kept us entertained during the 80-minute journey to the resort.
There we were greeted by Lou and Gavin Brightwell, the owners and managers of Saletoga Sands on Upolu's south coast.
Pleased to discard a layer of clothing - the temperature rarely dips below the mid 20s, even at night - I flopped into bed and slept like a log.
As day dawned, I surveyed my luxuriously appointed room with a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand. The fales are spacious with comfy king-sized beds, a small fridge, lounge furniture, outdoor furniture, bathrooms with twin sinks and every room has both an indoor and private outdoor shower. The honeymoon suite also has an outdoor bath.
Saletoga Sands was a labour of love for former Hamiltonians, Gavin and Lou.
They opened the doors to the resort last April, after a marathon effort to clear the land and build the resort. They now employ about 70 local villagers, helping contribute to Samoa's burgeoning tourism industry.
Many of those are employed in the restaurant, where they produce mouth-watering meals created using fresh local meat, seafood and produce.
Staff are chatty and friendly, including the effervescent Taka who manages the pool bar. It's there guests congregate at happy hour to cool off and indulge in pretty cocktails.
Gavin and Lou also employ staff tour guides who take guests around the island. That's just what they did for me over two days.
First, Lou and I head to a local catholic church to listen to the incredible singing from the villagers dressed in their Sunday whites. The only palagis at the service, the kids in the row in front of us spent most of the time staring at us blonde women in the back row.
I took in their cheeky and inquisitive faces as we listened to melodious hymns that left me with goose bumps. While I didn't understand any of the service in Samoan, the visit was well worth it for the singing alone.
Next, Gavin and I set out with Sili for a swim at nearby To Sua ocean trench. The trench was formed when the ceiling of a lava tube collapsed leaving the open pit which is filled with sea water thanks to the tunnel that runs between the pit and the ocean.
I'm not a fan of heights so the steep climb down the ladder had my knees knocking. But once we reached the bottom I was glad I'd braved it. The water was warm and crystal clear, the scenery idyllic.
From there, Sili led us to nearby ancient lava fields on the coast. He often takes guests to a spot where you leap into a deep part of the ocean from a cliff face and then swim through a tunnel and climb out to arrive back where you leapt from.
Did I mention I don't like heights? I'd been assured the cliff wasn't high, but then I'd never been game to leap off anything higher than the lowest diving board at Waterworld as a kid. Sili said he'd taken a trio of elderly women there and they'd all happily leapt off. I figured if they could do it, then I sure could. So I did. Would I again? Probably not, but I'm a wuss. But I did love the swim through the caves - the colour was a stunning iridescent turquoise.
While young children won't manage the leap into the ocean or the climb down to the trench, there is a sheltered tidal pool in the To Sua park where littlies can splash about and there's plenty of space for a picnic.
Next we headed on to Lalomanu, which bore the brunt of the 2009 tsunami. While many have rebuilt fales on higher ground, just as many have rebuilt on the low-lying coast.
The devastation brought about by the tsunami is still clear to see. The abandoned remains of homes are chilling and you can see why so many lost their lives - many homes along the waterfront had sheer cliffs at their rear, leaving nowhere to run to safety.
On our way back to Saletoga we passed a family bathing under a roadside waterfall. Three dads had taken their brood of kids for a Sunday afternoon cool off. We stopped to ask if we could take their photo and they happily obliged. While they spoke no English, their smiles and laughter were priceless, their warmth the epitome of the friendly, easy going nature of their people.
The following day was more relaxed. The resort paired me up with tour guide Tina who took me on the 50-minute drive to the capital Apia. The cross-island drive winds through rainforest and past spectacular waterfalls. The misty conditions made for an ethereal atmosphere as we pull into the grounds of the Bahai House of Worship up in the mountains, about halfway to Apia. One of only eight in the world, the Baha'i' House of Worship of Samoa (otherwise known as Baha'i Temple) is a place of prayer and meditation open to people of all backgrounds. Surrounded by lush, manicured gardens, the temple features nine symmetrical sides and entrances. Tina showed me into the main auditorium where its dome is 28m high.
She asks if I can sing. Not well, I answer. But I know Tina can sing and so she obliges with a rendition of Amazing Grace so beautiful that it brings a tear to my eye.
Back on the road, we get stuck behind numerous slow-moving utes, many with several passengers perched in the back. One had four guys perched on plastic chairs on the tray of the ute, swaying as they swung round corners. Tina tells me the government has introduced a new law where anyone in the front seats of a vehicle risks a fine if they aren't wearing a seatbelt, however, passengers in the back seat or in the tray of a ute are exempt from wearing a seatbelt. Despite that strange logic, it seems the Samoan government has been establishing some more sensible policies.
Tina tells me they are pushing people to live a healthier lifestyle and to address the health issues that come with obesity. They're encouraging villages to grow more of their own fruit and vegetables and they've banned turkey tails, a particularly fatty treat favoured by many islanders. "And the government has given out lots of portable stereos to all the villages and free Zumba CDs," said Tina.
Zumba? Really? "Yep, everyone goes down to the village hall every morning to do Zumba. Men and women. Villages have competitions against each other. It gets pretty competitive."
Before I know it, we're in humid, bustling Apia. Rickety but colourful buses are packed with people bussing into and out of the capital. Tina jokes the buses are a good way to find a husband. "You get on, push your way to the best looking man and sit on his lap," she laughs.
We visit the flea market where stalls are overflowing with brightly coloured shirts and dresses emblazoned with flowery hibiscus patterns, along with jewellery and other knick knacks. There are lavalava, pandanus mats (the finer the weave, the more you'll pay) and kava bowls. We wander by the food stalls. You can choose from fried chicken and chips, fried chicken and chips or fried chicken and chips. While the locals can stomach the food, Tina warned it might pay not to eat there. We did try the deep-fried mini banana fritters - a bargain at 1 Tala for 10 (NZ 55c) and very moreish.
At the produce market, dozens of tables groan under the weight of fresh bananas, coconuts, bread fruit, mangoes, taro, chillis, and pineapples. Selling their abundance of produce is a family affair - stalls are manned by mums and grandmothers, kids play nearby, babies and toddlers sleep on mats on the ground.
On our way back to the resort we take the road that loops the perimeter of Upolu. We pass the Piula cave pool - a freshwater cave pool located beneath an historic Methodist church. There's no time to stop as I have a plane to catch later that night. But it's not the only attraction I'd wanted to see; there are the sliding rocks on Upolu and on neighbouring island Savaii there are the Alofaaga Blowholes and a place you can swim with turtles. I guess I'll just have to go back.