I had a misconception that Fiji would be a place for families holidaying, but found German and English backpackers doing the Australia, New Zealand and Fiji triangle, maybe with a bit of a south east Asia dodecahedron added in at the end.
It’s adventurous if you want it to be, has a friendly local atmosphere and you don’t feel like a classic camera toting, served on, cushy, always forgets to rub in a bit of sunscreen tourist. Actually I forget to rub in my sunscreen all the time but you get my gyst.
The six islands we visited had basic facilities and we are craving creamy cheese and chilled wine. That said, some of them were layed on resort style if they were closer to the mainland. As Mary puts it, we sacrificed amenities and Brie for relationships and culture. It surpassed our expectations.
We’ve nailed the Bula dance and are kava drinking experts. We know how to get a coconut down and extract the goddamn cream. We’ve patted sharks and hidden from swordfish, battled spiders and gained new scars (especially Mary), sailed to castaway island and lay on the sand with Wilson while the aqua water lapped over our char-browned legs.
We’ve had massages on the beach, watched spectacular sunrises and sets from our island homes, rescued a drowning drunk, eaten freshly speared fish on the beach cooked over coals with cassava and lime. Most of all, we’ve adopted Fiji time and are flying away from the South Pacific feeling super chilled.