$45 MILLION. NO PEOPLE.

Where are the capitol's politicians? Or security? Or even the visitors?

We've been spending a lot of time underwater lately. Like 15 of the past 19 days. We're not complaining, mind you--when you're in places like Palau and the Philippines, diving is much of what you're meant to be doing.

But sufficiently waterlogged, we headed out to see what Palau had to offer above sea level.


First stop has to be one of the most bizarre attractions in all of the Pacific--Palau's capitol building. While the structure is architecturally impressive, its location, history, and cost are mind boggling. 

Palau is a nation of 20,000 residents, whose average income is around $10,000. The new capitol, which took more than 20 years to complete, cost some $45 million to build.

That's three month's wages for every island resident. You have to think folks would have much rather seen that money placed elsewhere. Like decent roads. Better education. Improved healthcare. Faster internet capabilities, perhaps? 

Even crazier--the place wasn't built near the existing capital city. No, the politicians decided to build the government palace in an area miles away, literally in the middle of a mountainous, undeveloped, remote jungle area known more for being unknown and under-explored than most anything else. 

We spent most of an hour at the property. We knocked on windows. We drove right up to the front door and took crazy photos. And we did not see one other live person the entire time. 

Fearing dehydration (and arrest), we headed back to the water's edge. There, we stumbled upon Palau's famous giant clam farming operation. 

Giant clams growing at the Palau Bureau of Marine Resources.

A filtration tank at one of Palau's clam farms.

Beginning in the 1970s, Palau was one of the first places to succeed in mass production of giant clams, the largest of which can weigh more than 500 lbs. Those are some big clams. Giant, even. 

The offspring from breeding stock here have been sent to places around the world to seed additional farms. We know you're enthralled. 

The Palau Bureau of Marine Resources grows many of the monsters, as we learned after a quick visit to their farm just north of Koror, the largest city. The organization is also responsible for patrolling the surrounding waters and shark sanctuary, which rationalizes the need for some impressive machinery, including the fast boat below. The pink hibiscus on the right was pretty and nearby, and it's one of Liz's favorite flowers ever. 

Helping protect the Palauan fisheries.

  

Roadside hibiscus.

We did manage a quick snorkel on the far northern tip of the island chain. Highlights...a friendly local fisherman, a five-foot barracuda, and a fish trap filled with six white-tipped reef sharks. The fisherman assured us he would do his best to catch the barracuda and also alert the trap's owner so that the sharks would be released immediately. 

The trip ended back in Koror, watching a colorful end to yet another colorful day in Palau. 

Kip pushed Liz out in a boat. So she could watch the sunset. And he could take a photo. Liz was not amused. But the view was stunning, nonetheless.