Fijian Time

My flight from Honolulu to Nadi was a night flight, but for some reason they tried to feed us sandwiches when we boarded a little after midnight. I arrived in Nadi at 5.20am, loosing a day crossing the Pacific. It was all a little disorientating.
I waited with an Australian couple for the transfer bus to Octopus Bay Resort.
The bus took us the short distance to a small harbour (Hah-Bah, Gerry), where we signed our lives away before boarding a boat to Waya Island.
I was surprised by how small the boat was and how old it looked. Apparently they are about to replace it. I swallowed a handful of sea sickness tablets I found on board and found my spot on the horizon to focus on.
It was a fairly rough crossing, we seemed to land pretty heavy with each new wave and be jolted about. After one and a half hours of rough water we arrived at the idyllic Octopus Bay Resort. Each boat is met by staff members singing a welcoming song and gently swaying their hips from side to side. This was slightly spoilt on the return leg when an Australian family and a single German man decided to join in, it was all wrong.
Octopus Bay Resort had been recommended to me by Markus, I knew to expect delicious food and the nicest dorm room I'll probably ever stay in. However I forgot to imagine beyond the food and bed to what the island may look like. I was therefore blown away by the crystal clear waters and white sandy beach. The landscape of the island is green and rugged.
After our welcome drinks we were each shown to our rooms, it was then I spotted Sarah in the pool. I met Sarah and Sian in Maui and had mentioned Octopus Bay Resort to them. It was great to know I'd have some company. We are on similar routes so will meet up again in New Zealand and Australia.

Sarah, Sian and Me.

I found my dorm bed, with a welcoming flower and quickly got changed ready to, well I'd like to say swim, but actually to eat.

My dorm bed

The food at the resort was really good, particularly the lunch menu. I'll try not to turn this into a girl eats world blog.
The resort puts on some entertainment in the evening, we had a movie night (for you cinefiles, it was The Escapist), crab races and quiz nights.
Waya Island is very small and before Octopus Bay Resort there was little future for the islanders. More and more Fijian Islands are being emptied as people move to the mainland to make a living.

Crab Racing

The owner of Octopus Bay Resort spent time on the island getting to know the villagers before building the resort. He discovered they would benefit from having access to a telephone and arranged a satellite. Now islanders can talk to relatives who have moved away. I don't think the resort intrudes upon the villagers way of life, but rather gives them a future. The resort has a scholarship fund, every guest is asked to donate $1 per night. This means every child is educated to the level they desire. There are now some local young people enrolled at the university on the mainland.

Pigs in the village

I took a tour of the Nalauwaki village, where most of the residents also work in the resort. Fijian custom means the woman of the home does all the housework and cooking. For some of the women this means they work full time in the resort and then return home to all the chores of keeping a home and family.
The village has one pre-school, unfortunately it was closed when we visited as there had been a death in the village. Once the children turn 6 they attend boarding school on another island. They leave home Sunday afternoon and return Friday afternoon. Once they reach high school age they have to become boarders on the mainland.

Local Girl

The Village.

We were told more of the customs of the village and then our guide mentioned attending church is compulsory for children. It's strange to imagine how the Methodist church fits into the Fijian way of life.
Fiji is the first country I've been too under a military coup (don't worry Mum I'm not aiming to visit more). To be frank had I not read about the coup before arriving I would have been none the wiser. It seems those revolutionary types are quite aware of the bloodline tourism provides for the country.
I can also now say I've tasted Cava. For something that looks like mud, it's not too bad. It actually reminded me of Coco leaves, in that it leaves you with a numb mouth.

Cava Ceremony

I can't imagine ever wanting to drink a lot of it though...