Fiji Time

We made ourselves comfortable at our small but well equipped resort and I made my way to the beach kitted out in shorts and shades. I climbed into a hammock and opened my book and no sooner had I done so than the sun, who I was barely getting re-acquainted with, rudely disappeared. I looked up and was reminded of that scene from Independence Day when the whole sky goes dark. Before long the palm trees were dancing excitedly and I was swinging wildly in my hammock and starting to feel a bit sick. An irritating drunk man who we'd had the misfortune to meet at Sydney and then again that morning on the bus had been trying to articulate the fact that Fiji was perfect but not perfect. I suggested "paradise with potholes" and I thought of him as minutes later the sky opened into a generous downpour.

More than anywhere else we had been, I found the Fijian people a striking race. Try and imagine a beautiful girl who looks a bit like Laurence Fishburn and you are getting there. A strong bone structure and powerful physique seem to be prevalent from birth and after one day it was clear that I was by far the most physically incapable man on the island. This is not including Josh of course, who possesses merely the illusion of physical strength but is in fact unable to swim or even go to the toilet on his own.

We had been informed the night before that our resort was none other than that which Celebrity Love Island was filmed! With this wonderfully unexpected revelation in mind we left the next day and went back up north to get ourselves on a boat to the Yasawas. We booked everything with a travel agent called Vika who, after we had been subjected to a bizarre Kava drinking ceremony on the travel agency floor (this basically involved lots of clapping and repeating random words while drinking a milky wood flavoured water), invited us to stay the night in her home! This was obviously a way for her to save money paying for our hotel but we accepted because she seemed nice and we thought it would be good experience. It was! After a slightly awkward entrance during the family's evening prayer we ate and played card with Vika's family and Tada, a Japanese student who was studying English in Fiji. Well, why not?

In the morning we took a ferry up to Nacula, one of the most northern islands of the group, and were shown to our bungalow on the beach. It really was amazing. All that stood between our bungalow and the beach were two hammocks. We were two of only five guests so that night we got to know our fellow island inhabitants and also the local rum, Bounty. They were only staying one night and the next day, after a morning spent exploring the colorful coral reefs of our coastline, we dropped them off at the ferry. The island was ours!

Josh was eager to try fishing. I can never seem to get myself beyond remotely curious when it comes to catching fish but in the spirit of our desert island lifestyle I thought it could be fun. It was - eventually. Once I had caught something. I had imagined sitting there for hours waiting for a twitch on the line which would then be followed by a scream and a panicked reeling in of what turns out to be nothing. In actual fact Josh had no sooner dipped his line in the water than he found himself tugging in a (particularly exotic looking) fish!

It took me a bit longer. On two occasions I felt my line grow heavy and a excitedly reeled in my catch. On both occasions I found that I had caught coral. I was becoming a laughing stock but after twenty minutes of persistence I was rewarded with the biggest catch of the day- a great big colourful fish which I was well chuffed with. Suddenly I turned into a fisherman and by the end of the day I had reeled in three more! It turned out to be a really rewarding trip, particularly that evening when we were served a selection of the days catch. We washed it down with Kava and rum and floated to bed happily. I should mention that we were now in the habit of going to bed at 10pm - this is when the generator shuts off and the island is plunged into complete (and rather anti-social) darkness.

We were invited the next day into the local village where an annual church event/ tourist trap was taking place. We were to meet the chief, who required a small donation before we donated another small amount to the local church. To be fair it was a very small amount and we did get to drink Kava with the chief, eat a nice meal of fish and shellfish with some strange potato things, and get a little tour of the village. The kava drinking was actually a bit awkward and it didn't help that we had been kitted out in traditional Fijian dress (a "Bula" shirt and a skirt) which I was suddenly very aware of upon seeing a group of tourists attending in their board shorts and t-shirts. Nevertheless it was unteresting to see the village and the chief - who I had secretly hoped would have a lion skin coat and millions of unlikely piercings. He was in fact disappointingly normal looking, although he did have an impressive moustache.

During another coral reef expedition I cut my toe on a rock and so spent the last afternoon making the most of "Fiji Time" (the Fijians' excuse to not do anything which I picked up very quickly) while Josh went off to explore the island with our boatman and fishing buddy, Joe. We finished the evening in our usual way, with a romantic meal for two in the empty dining room and a few games of cards with the staff before bed at ten. The next day we would be embarking on a two day journey to Santiago, Chile. The final leg of our journey - crossing South America - filled our minds with wonderful pictures and bad Spanish.

We left Nacula after a game of football involving the local boys and a hilariously flat ball. I also had a Motorcycle Diaries moment when I cleaned up and bandaged a young girl who had cut her hand quite badly - much to the appreciation of her family.I was definitely ready for America del Sud now. All there was left to do was learn Spanish pretty much from scratch on the plane using a dictionary. No problemo.

written by  steve_stamp on June 1, 2009 from Nandi, Fiji
from the travel blog: The art of being lost
tagged Fishing, Fiji and Kava
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