Coralview Comedown

A paradise island should be the most relaxing place on earth but somehow it's been shattering. Once the boys had left, the late nights of the last ten days caught up with us and we were all on a bit of a comedown. Though we picked ourselves up for long enough to reach Coralview Island, as soon as we arrived we dropped straight back down into a hammock and didn't move for almost two days. 

As Coralview was our last island before heading back to the mainland we felt we were fully justified in making the most of island life and doing very, very little. On our final evening, however, we felt the need to exert ourselves and so followed the hiking trail up the hill for sunset. It seems not many others managed even that though as the pathway was completely overgrown and we had to fight our way through tall reeds to reach the top. Our reward once we got there was the most amazing views over Coralview and the surrounding islands, and a cheerful Fijian man who set the mood, playing old school love tunes from his shabby looking Nokia phone. 

Our island hopping adventure has been nothing short of perfect but it's been more of a luxurious holiday than backpacker travelling. We all feel it's now time to get back to the mainland where there are no five star resorts, nor porters to carry our bags, but a whole load of traditional Fijian culture to discover. I think I may even put some shoes on for the occasion. 

Sad Day on Mantaray

The morning we left for Mantaray Island the weather reflected our mood; sunshine for the most part but with dark clouds looming, as the end of the boys' trip drew worryingly near.

However, by the time we'd loaded our bags onto the small fisherman's boat it had turned into a fully fledged storm. As usual we met the ferry out in the middle of the ocean but what was normally a relatively easy transfer was made near impossible as the rain hammered down on us and the small boat was thrown from side to side. With all my worldly possessions on board I wasn't sure whether to prioritise myself or my backpack - though the latter is replaceable it definitely can't swim. 

One by one we tried to hop across but as the waves grew taller the small boat was forced to retreat with Stuart and I still on board. I felt like we were playing out a scene from a movie and just hoped that like most, there'd be a happy ending! 

The situation improved slightly on the journey over but even once we reached Mantaray it still wasn't great. Luckily, as it was our last night all together we'd decided to splash out on some nicer rooms (though some nicer than others) and so relaxed in those for the afternoon. 

The food on the resort was amazing and we ate our last supper at the hilltop restaurant with great views out across the island. It was the boys' intention to go out with a bang so drinks started early; Mai Tais, Long Islands and the last few drops of Jack's Wild Turkey. A few hundred dollars of a bar tab later we were all well on our way but whilst we should have made our way to bed, instead we found our way to the beach. Every single one of us piled into the same hammock and took it in turns to wrestle each other to the ground. 

The next morning we woke up with sore heads and sad faces as the time had come for the boys to return to Sydney. We've all loved having them here and haven't stopped laughing for ten days straight. The worst part now is not knowing when we'll see them but with a few plans already in the pipeline we're just waiting for someone to book it on a whim again.

One Night in Wayalailai

As pretty as it's name, Wayalailai Island is a tropical haven with a small beach which backs onto a thriving rainforest. We stayed at Naqalia Lodge which was very basic, a family run place with limited electricity and no ceiling fans. On the plus side though it was a truly personal experience with the family adopting us as their own for the one night we were there.

The intimacy of it all was helped by the fact that once again we were practically the only people on the island. During the day we had the beach to ourselves and had first dibs on all the activities offered by the family. 

After lunch Kate and I joined 'Grandma' for a jewellery making session, stringing shells and beads together to form bracelets. Before long her real granddaughter had crawled onto her lap and helped us to pick out the prettiest gems. Later we challenged the staff to a kayaking race which ended as expected, although we may have had more of a chance had Stuart and I not sunk our boat. 

In the evening most of the group hiked up a hill for sunset but Han and I stayed behind for a solo kayaking trip. This one was considerably more successful as the sea had calmed and we both comfortably fit into one kayak. With the summit in sight we called out the names of our friends, hoping our echoes would reach their ears. Paddling all the way to the next beach, we took a moment to appreciate our stunning surroundings. There we were, gliding over brightly coloured coral which was completely visible through the crystal clear water. 

On the way back, however, it began to spit with rain and the world turned grey bar the beautiful rainbow which appeared behind the mountain. Being so far from the shore we should perhaps have been worried but the gentle pattering sounds of the rain on the water was surprisingly relaxing. We reached our room just as the storm really kicked in.

After dinner we were treated to a traditional Fijian dance performance which involved a degree of audience participation. The islanders assured us that if we danced hard enough the sun would come out the next day so we allowed them to twirl us around and teach us the 'Bula Dance.' Most of us were mortified but in hindsight it was fun. 

We feel as though we covered everything there is to do in Wayalailai in just one day so we're moving on again now, this time to Mantaray! 

Magical Mana Island

Imagine a tiny white sand island in the middle of the ocean; a picture perfect paradise with palm trees, and beach huts, and cocktails on tap. Now imagine that there's three hundred and twenty two of these islands, all within just a few miles of one another but thousands of miles from the rest of the world. That is Fiji. 

The first island we hopped to was Mana Island, one of the largest of the Manamucas. In typical Fijian style we were welcomed off the ferry by florally dressed islanders singing us a song. The rickety old jetty led to the beach and a few steps later we were at our hostel. And that was it. Around the other side there were a couple of fancy resorts but we were well and truly in island backpacker quarters. There were no restaurants, no shops, no bars, no internet and no ATMs. It was quite literally beach, hostel and nothing else. 

Luckily, with a beach like this one (and Will as our walking Wikipedia to replace Google) we really didn't need much else. We spent most of our days sunbathing on the sand and then cooling off in the sea, constantly flitting between the two paradise settings. 

One afternoon we hired a boat from a local fisherman and found a great snorkelling spot near to Castaway Island. Being the water wimp that I am, I fully intended to stay on the boat but peer pressure had other ideas. Before I knew it I was bobbing up and down in the sea with eight of my friends and a whole load of fish. There were even reef sharks lurking about but thankfully I didn't see any. What I did see, however, were the most amazing coral reefs, fluorescent in colour and crazy in shape. It really is a whole other world down there, one that I'm now grateful I was forced to admire. 

On the way back to Mana we let out fishing lines to try and catch some mackerel for dinner. We had three lines between us but not an awful lot of luck. Aside from Stuart who caught one right away, the rest of us barely even got a bite. It wasn't until an hour or so later when we realised the bait had fallen off all the rods that we understood why. Fish don't find empty fishing lines all that tempting. 

As serene and peaceful as it was in the day, Mana Island turned pretty lively at night. Inevitable really, with the nine of us and Jack's leftover Wild Turkey. We played drinking games along the beach each night before stumbling back to our dorm room. One morning a few of the girls and I woke early for sunrise yoga but generally we slept in until the sun became too sweltering or the songs of the local primary school children filtered their way through the windows.

On an Island like Mana you could spend three days doing absolutely nothing because it hasn't been set up for tourism in any way. It's entirely up to you to make your own fun but I think we'd agree we did a bloody good job. 

Bula Nadi

The moment we stepped off the plane we were in holiday mode. The sun was shining, the skies were blue and the sounds of Fijian music filled the air around us. Inside the arrival lounge men continued to strum away at their ukeleles whilst women handed out shelled necklaces to new arrivals. Absolutely everyone; men, women, Fijians and foreigners alike, were all wearing colourful flowers in their hair. 

The four of us that had flown in from Auckland arrived first so checked everyone into the hostel in Nadi. We were welcomed in by the owner, 'Mama', essentially the Fijian version of Queen Latifah's character in Chicago. She assured us that if we ran into any trouble in Nadi we need only mention her name and whoever was bothering us would run away scared. I have to say I genuinely believed her. 

Before we knew it there was a knock on our door and the boys burst in with their biggest smiles, as well as vodka, whiskey and a family sized packet of Tim Tams (I couldn't decide who or what I was more excited to see.) Drinks were poured almost instantly and the games commenced, ending only once everyone was suitably un-sober and ready to hit town. 

We tried Ice Bar first which was completely empty bar the seven of us but what it lacked in people it made up for in drinks deals so we rinsed those before moving on elsewhere. It seems my memory didn't come with us but I've been informed that White House was much busier and a lot of fun. Luckily a couple of Fijians had appointed themselves as our bodyguards/taxi men for the night and eventually escorted us home safely. Once there, Jack jumped into the pool and made a whole load of noise, breaking two of Mama's house rules at once - a brave man indeed.

The next morning we were woken crazy early by the arrival of the last two members of our Fiji family, Vicky and Kate. Some of us were still drunk, others horrifically hungover but all really excited to see them after so long away (with the exception maybe of Will who's bed excited him more.) Not wanting to waste the day, we dragged ourselves out of the hostel but it took us all of ten minutes to realise the centre of Nadi really is as bad as people make out. The floral shirts and flowery hairpieces do little to distract you from the fact the beaches are dirty and the town falling apart. Even the ocean is a grey shade of blue. With that in mind we made it our priority to book the ferry to the islands for the following day in search of the paradise we'd been promised.

Unfortunately that meant another six o'clock start so we had a quiet one that evening; just a couple of cocktails at a restaurant along the beach whilst watching Fijian dancers do their thing. Back in the room Hana treated us to story time, reading Harry Potter  aloud until we all fell asleep. 

Nadi really isn't the best of places but with the nine of us together we couldn't help but have fun.