Sailing into Madang in a light rain, I noticed a native band greeting us with some lively music. I also noticed that a couple of the workers who were waiting to help dock the ship were dancing to the music: they would dance and then stop and walk around like the others, pretending to be cool. Then one guy couldn't help himself anymore and would start dancing again. I put my camera in video mode and shot the whole sequence – it’s hilarious, but given the internet bandwidth here, you’ll probably have to wait until I get home to see it. There are a couple of guitars, but the main instrument is made of huge hollow bamboo logs that they play using flip-flops with foam glued to them.    Very entertaining and enterprising.

As we approached Papua New Guinea (PNG), David and I debated whether to start our anti-malarial medication, and decided better safe than sorry, so we did. As we left the port on our tour, I noticed a sign on the gate warning that PNG is a malaria prone area and visitors are advised to take anti-malaria medication; if not, they should see their doctors immediately if they have any strange symptoms within six months of visiting the island. When the guide mentioned that malaria is a problem on the island, one of the other passengers asked if it was only in the remote areas and the guide replied that no, the problem was everywhere on the island. So we were glad we had chosen as we did. Apparently other people thought the only dangerous place was India.

The rain did stop, which was nice, since David and I had a tour to see some of the island. We went first to a native village, Bilbil, where they are reasonably used to tourists. The tourist industry in Madang is still pretty primitive. The roads are mainly narrow, sometimes narrow enough that if two vehicles meet, one has to get off the road to let the other by. We had a delay leaving Bilbil because another set of buses was coming in when we were leaving and we couldn’t get by them. And we couldn’t wait until they came in because they had nowhere to park until we left.

The village is supposedly typical of the native lifestyle before the white man came, and the buildings were certainly traditional style, made out of small logs and thatch and built up on stilts (for the most part – I noticed a lot of modern materials in some of the houses on the edges of town). The villagers dress up for us (some of them) and show the clay pots they make. Some of the women demonstrate the two methods of making them, and there are lots for sale. You can walk around the town taking pictures, although some of the villagers expect money for posing, and everyone is very friendly. A group dressed in native attire and paints did a dance for us, and the children were everywhere. Some people were fishing in the bay, just wading out into the water with their fishing poles, and they had boats and dogs and chickens all over the place.    All very laid-back and not overtly touristy, more like coming to visit the country cousins.

We then went to a butterfly park, which I was really enthusiastic about, because Papua New Guinea is known for its butterflies. There was a sort of mesh house that had two butterflies (alive) inside and one butterfly (dead) outside. It was extremely disappointing. I don’t know whether the butterflies had emigrated or it was the wrong season, or whether they have never had any there. They did have butterfly bushes, so in theory there could be butterflies attracted. I did see one flying around the garden, and I was chasing it with my camera, trying to get within range so I could take a picture, when I heard a policeman crying "Come back! Come back!"  So I stopped and asked him “Are we not supposed to go here?”  “Oh, no, it’s alright,” he said. “I was talking to the butterfly, trying to get it to come back for you.”  So I asked him if I could take his picture, and he said yes. He told me to tell my friends in America that this is what a Papua New Guinea policeman looks like. So I will tell you when I see you.

Our next stop was at a cultural center where they had some exhibits in a museum that were very interesting, but no photos and no pictures for sale. Outside, another group dressed the same as the group at Bilbil did another native dance for us, and dozens of people had a sort of native market where they displayed handicrafts for sale. Some of the carvings were very intricate and beautiful. I bought a small Papua New Guinea flag at the museum and went over to give it to David to hold because it was getting in the way of taking pictures. I found him talking to a Papuan and they were getting along like a house afire. I asked if I could take their picture together, and the man said yes; immediately about four more men came and got into the picture. David told me later that they were a group and had come together, so of course they wanted to be together in the picture. They were trying to talk David into coming on a boat trip to the various harbors around the island with them, and when I came, they invited me as well; but David explained that we didn’t have time because the ship was leaving soon.

As we left the cultural center, I noticed that the trees in front that I thought had some large fruit really were full of flying foxes (bats) just like the ones on Tonga.    I got a few pictures of them flying about, and later noticed that one picture I had thought was of two bats was really of one bat and one hawk.

Our last stop was at the Coastwatchers Memorial. It is a tall structure that looks like a lighthouse and commemorates the brave men and women who stayed behind enemy lines in WWII and sent the Allies information on Japanese ship and troop movements. After that it was back to the ship to continue on our world cruise.

On the ship, we found a butterfly that had apparently decided to hitch-hike its way to somewhere and all the disappointed photographers went down to take its picture. So we got three live butterflies captured on film.