Day 1
On arrival, we stay a night at the Gateway Hotel near Nadi airport. Quite possibly, one of my worst hotel experiences ever due to the fish served at dinner and a batshit-crazy German woman.
Day 2
Next morning, loaded onto the Yasawa Flyer. The ferry goes all the way up the island chain, stopping at the resorts to set down/take on passengers. Each stop entails a series of tenders powering out to the ferry followed by a complex manoeuvre of on-boarding, off-boarding passengers, bags and various other supplies. Our stop is the very last one, a mere 5 hours. It’s worth it.
Fiji has a reputation for being a happy and hospitable place. Not quite so much for one of the early missionaries and his converts who were eaten but other than that, it’s a pretty friendly, easy-going place. On arrival at the Oarsman Resort, we’re greeted by the staff singing, strumming guitars and ukuleles. This kind spirit and warmth continue for the duration of our stay. The resort is neither pretentious or glitzy but rather modest, authentic and intimate. Bloody brilliant.
Our little bure is set amongst coconut trees, the beach on our doorstep. Comfortable, tastefully decorated, ours is one of the older-style bures, perfect for our needs. A large king bed with luscious, clean white sheets, day bed, bathroom, toilet, open-air shower, air conditioning, fan, louver windows. With no shared walls, it is completely private and quiet. My favourite feature is the large shallow blue metal buckets placed outside the doors to wash the sand off your feet before going inside. Appeals to my OCD.
There is the option to do lots or do very little. The resort offers everything from basket weaving, tours of the village and limestone caves, reef-hopping, fishing, snorkelling, paddle boarding, kayaking along with high-octane activities such as hermit crab races and coconut bowls. Or simply grab a book, a sarong, some mozzie repellent and climb into a hammock for the day. Bliss.
Many of the staff live in nearby Nacula Village. We come to know them all by name, watch them returning to their villages via boat at the end of the day and motor back in the following morning. There are no roads on the island and no vehicles (bar the odd tractor). Due to its remoteness, the resort is very much self-sufficient. The make their own bread, pastries, there are chickens, fish and produce is bought from local villages, the garden growing yams, casava, mushrooms, a mass of unfamiliar salad ingredients – we eat like kings! The resort next to ours has a few mangy dogs and lots of beautiful young people with designer swimsuits. Ours has a cat, Chris, and lots of barefoot wanderers with interesting stories. I feel we have chosen well.
Day 4
I’ve stopped wearing a bra. At least for the duration of my stay in the Yasawa Islands. Sure, it helps to keep The Girls strapped up when you’re riding at a sitting trot, or running but other than that, it seems we are mostly wearing them in the name of western modesty. It’s been proven, keeping your fun bags hoisted up in titt-mitts does little to nothing to reduce them sagging around your naval in later life. Bar surgery, nothing’s going to stop those knockers sinking south.
Day 5
I’ve stopped washing – or brushing – my hair. Daily routine: wake, swim/snorkel, rinse off in outdoor shower, brush hair, apply leave-in conditioning treatment, get dressed. Breakfast, swim/snorkel, rinse off in outdoor shower, brush hair, apply leave-in conditioning treatment, get dressed. You get the idea. Given my post-chemo locks have returned (yay!), the washing, brushing, conditioning of my hair after swimming is now kind of labour intensive. So, I’ve stopped. The result is a wild, frightening mass of straw threads, a kind of Rod Stewart meets Children-of-the-Corn vibe.
Graham has been punctured, bitten, slayed by the resident mozzies, seems no amount of deet can keep them at bay.
Chris’s Fan Club
Chris saunters around the resort in the morning, looking for a comfy place to park his furry arse. Chris is a sly bugger. He has successfully made his way into nearly every guest’s bure – including ours. Chris appears less mangy than your regular resident resort-island cat so we’re hoping we don’t get worms or fleas.
