Fee-jee part 2

"The only downer is, everyone's got the same idea. We all travel thousands of miles just to watch TV and check in to somewhere with all the comforts of home, and you gotta ask yourself, what is the point of that?"

That's a quote from Richard, the main character played by Leo DiCaprio in the 2000 cult classic The Beach. I'm not going to tell you his point rings true 100% with me, but he's right in a way. Next week I'll talk about the positive things that resorts and holidays that take place in them offer. But...as New Zealand's last gasp effort at winter manifests itself into the ongoing downpour outside, I feel like being negative. So here goes.

There's something confining about staying in a resort. We stayed at the Sheraton on Fiji's Denarau Island, which is built upon reclaimed land about 5 km from Nadi. It has a golf course in its interior, while the oceanfront consists of a number of international resort chains.

This feeling of confinement is especially restrictive on Denarau, as everything is a little more pricey than you initially think it will be. Goods and food purchased on the island are subject to an outrageous 25% tax, and it's a $25 taxi ride to get into Nadi. It's understandable:  as I mentioned in the last post, a third of Fiji's GDP is tied up in tourism; they need to squeeze as much out of their visitors as possible.

Additionally, and perhaps this is an obvious statement, staying at a giant resort is not at all indicative of local culture. Sure our resort was staffed entirely of Fijians, and the food and drink were representative of Fijian cuisine (mostly, our last dinner was pizza and fries). But everything is so polished and manicured that it feels like you are in a clean-room version of island life. A 1960s Madison Avenue mockup of what a Pacific lifestyle - the beaches, the fruity tropical drinks, rows and rows of sunbathing retirees - should be. So on our second full day in Fiji, Rhiannon and I decided to take action. We rented a car and escaped the clutches of our lovely and wholly enjoyable island resort. 

As it turned out, this was excellent timing - just 45 minutes after driving away from the resort, the Fiji men's Rugby Sevens team was taking on Great Britain in the Rio Olympics gold medal match. Stopping at a Nadi cafe for breakfast and coffee, Rhiannon and I were immediately immersed in and witness to one of the top 5 most important events in Fiji history. 

Speed and agility and tight shirts.

Local townspeople crammed into the cafe to watch.

Think I'm being hyperbolic? Fiji dominated, winning 43-7. It was their first ever Olympic gold medal (and the first for any Pacific Island nation), and their win shut down the capital of Suva. Towards the end of the match when the outcome was decided, an Australian man came into the small cafe and looked around at the 35 cheering Fijians. He then leaned over our table and said, "This is a religion for them." So, yeah. It was a big deal. 

Driving in Nadi after the gold medal win, during which I got to live out my dream of excessively honking a car horn with no repercussions.

With no aux cable in our rental, the victory meant Rhiannon and I heard this song on local radio once every 15 minutes for the rest of our long day of driving: 

Fiji's Queens Road, which circumscribes the island, is an undulating and pleasant one-lane highway. It's also the only way to get from one side of the island to the other, so that if a transport truck or a tourist bus is lollygagging up a winding incline, so are the 15 cars waiting behind it. As we drove south from Nadi toward the Coral Coast, the highway meandered through village after village full of roadside animals, hitchhikers, children yelling 'Bula!' at us from horseback, and countless stands of mostly unappealing local produce. This was a head-scratcher for most of our trip - where were all of the cheap and delicious tropical fruits (papayas/mangoes/pineapples/etc.)? We would later find out that a storm in March, known as Cyclone Winston ("the most powerful storm to make landfall in the southern hemisphere"), completely ruined Fiji fruit crops and was still being recovered from. Sad. 

Nonetheless, stand after stand sold what little they had to offer, including a village that seemed to be the 'hot corn' capital of Fiji. We naturally stopped and bought a few ears of golden boiled delight:

Road horse!

Drive by shot of solitary man and his hot corn stand. These simmering pots were fueled by burning driftwood. Really living hand to mouth it seems.

Look I'm stimulating the local economy, said the guy who was unwilling to pay 5 FJD ($2.40 USD) for 4 ears of corn.

This particular stand was the first on the way into the village. The guy was wearing a Pittsburgh Pirates shirt, which for some reason stands out in my memory.

The drive also took us by Sigatoka Sand Dunes National Park, which was a good excuse for us to walk off much of our resort-induced guilt. And it gave us a chance to see some stunning views and seemingly rarely visited locations (Richard would be proud):

This picture makes me thirsty. ::Smacks lips. Dry mouth ensues::

Another human! Oh, just Rhiannon finding a faster way to fill her shoes with sand.

I look contemplative here, but in fact I had just found the windiest (coolest) part of the dune.

After an hour or so of walking, we still hadn't seen another person, which is a little unsettling in a national park. Were we lost? Alas, strange evidence of human activity was soon discovered:

Ten or so of these, each well over two meters in height, and completely empty.

And in the lowland forest, these strange 'woman in love with tree' shapes. About 15 of them.

The real goal of the drive along the Coral Coast, as you may have guessed, was to find a good beach from which to do some snorkeling. Finally, farther along the highway, we found a perfect public park and dock. While I like to cater to my blog reading audience, I did not desperately try to take any photos of the thousands of fish we swam among. But here's the free and easily accessible snorkeling spot we plunged in from:

Mighty fine.

So we got to experience some of the 'real' Fiji, which made me feel more assured that I'd made the most of my Pacific island time. However, after a day of driving wholly absent of sitting by an infinity pool and sipping cocktails, I felt ready to return to the captivity of the resort. 

Cheers!

Fee-Jee part 1

Bula!

It's been a month since I last posted anything. Did you miss me? Did you notice? Does anyone read this?

Good news - I travelled. This past weekend, Rhiannon and I took a 4 day trip to Fiji. Yes, Fiji, the Pacific Island nation closest to New Zealand, obviously best known as the location Jim Carrey's Truman from The Truman Show spent so much effort trying to get to. I figured it would be a shame and a wasted opportunity if while on the other side of the world I didn't visit at least one of the many tropical island nations relatively closeby. 

Here are a few facts about Fiji to get us going, and for future pub trivia purposes:

• It's only a 3 hour flight from Auckland. 
• Population of about 900,000, half of which are native Fijian and the other half Fijian Indian.
• UK Commonwealth country, gained independence in 1970.
• Tourism is really important. In 2014, 33.4% of jobs in Fiji were supported by tourism, which garnered 35.1% of total investment.
• Here's their flag:

Commonwealth, but gotta love that tropical blue.

• Everyone says 'Bula!' to you, which is Fijian for 'hello.'

On that last point - I really want to emphasize that everyone on the island says 'Bula'. Rhiannon's sleuthing uncovered that locals only say it to those who are unquestionably not from Fiji (e.g. the white Kiwi and American). It also is a way to establish dominance or something. We speculated that this was a concerted push by the periodically tenuous Fijian government to increase the perception of local friendliness and bolster tourism, since the small island nation has very few other industries.

The holiday was short, too short, but as an escape from New Zealand winter and an unreservedly unique place to visit, I'll probably take a few stabs at writing about it. Here I'll discuss the native fauna we encountered.

Tropical birds:

Caw!

Don't eat all the frogs, please.

(mohawked) Chirp!

"Hey dude, whatcha up to? Just some early morning reading on your hotel room's balcony?
Nice, brah." -bird probably

The Fijian parrotfinch, which as the name suggests is a mix between a parrot and a finch, is adorable. I lamentably did not get a picture of it, probably because I was too preoccupied melting every time I saw one. At one point a giant Fijian walked by with a baby one of these on his shoulder. It then hopped majestically onto the crown of his head. From there he walked another 30 meters before setting it down among a small grazing flock. What juxtaposition! Might be the best thing we saw on the trip.

Beep. 
No idea how the photographer got one of these to stay still long enough for a photo.

And some creepy-crawlers:

Doesn't matter where you go, they're everywhere.

"Hey is that Jim Beam and ginger beer? Can I come in and have some?" -lizard probably

But the decided winner of most observed and hunted animal on our trip was the simple frog. Sometimes in a pond, often pasturing near the resort tree roots, we spent our inebriated evenings chasing and catching them:

The target.

Pure and unbridled sunburnt drunken joy. Frog is unimpressed. 

Apologies for the blurriness, but I get a lot of amusement from Rhiannon's face in this picture.

Of course we saw other wildlife:  giant fruit bats swooping over the spa pool at dusk, all sorts of roadside animals (horses, cows, dogs, cats, chickens) with no apparent owners, and a multitude of burrowing beach crabs. But nope, I didn't take any pictures of those; you'll have to take my word for it!

Cheers!

Next week:  our daring protagonists rent a car and escape the resort.