Half Around The World In 80 Days

After the warm comforts of family, friends and western living in North America, going to Fiji is a step into the unknown for me. As soon as I board the Air Pacific flight you are greeted with a loud 'Bula', the national greeting which I am to hear over and over again during my stay. Just to prove what a small world this is, I am seated beside a nurse from Cork called Kaye for whom Fiji is a similar step into the unknown. It is good to know that I am not the only backpacker in this part of the world.

Fiji's international airport is in a city called Nadi (pronounced Nandi) on the west of the island. Getting off the plane at 10pm, the air is beautifully warm and full of the sweet scents of the tropics. At the airport terminal we are greeted by a flower-festooned band playing local tunes. The accommodation is not quite up to Californian standards, but you soon get used to sharing your room with Gecko lizards, ants and other fauna. Travelling in Fiji is very economical compared to the US; dormitory rooms in hotels/hostels generally cost FJ$9.00 (IR£3.60) per night, food and transport are similarly light on the pocket. Staying in hostels is a new experience for me, and I soon discover that there is a great sense of community between backpackers from all over the world. Friendships are struck up easily, and you will always meet someone who has already been to your next destination and can recommend places to stay or avoid. Thus, travelling solo isn't as lonely a road as I had feared.

Some fellow backpackers on Fiji's Coral Coast

The Fijians themselves are very friendly people, as you walk the roads even young children show no fear of strangers and are happy to wax lyrical about life on the sugar cane farm. A large percentage of the population is of Indian origin, having been brought here by the British to work on cane plantations around the turn of the century. They seem to be much more industrious than the native Fijians and now seem to own most of the shops and businesses in the country.

My itinerary in Fiji was quite flexible. After one day, I had seen everything of note in Nadi and took the bus south to the Coral Coast with some other backpackers. Here we lazed about on the snow-white beach and snorkelled over the reef. The Rugby World Cup was in its early stages and I got to watch Fiji-v-Canada which the Fiji won n the middle of the night, much to the delight of the locals.

The next item on the Fijian agenda was to do a SCUBA diving course in a hamlet called Pacific Harbour. It was quite thrilling to take one's first breath underwater and descend 20metres in the open ocean. The diving itself was done offshore in the Beqa Lagoon where the water was crystal clear and the coral and fish were resplendent in every colour of the rainbow. I also got to swim beside a sunken trawler with a school of mackerel, which must have seemed somewhat ironic to the fish.

This is the life. Pat with fellow divers on Beqa Lagoon

Sunset at Pacific Harbour

One afternoon in Pacific Harbour I bump into a local man called Neville who invites me back to his village to sample Cava which is a mildly narcotic traditional drink. His small shack is quite a revelation to me and he fits a large family in there somehow. The cava itself has the appearance and taste of muddy water; its only discernible effect is to numb my tongue somewhat.

Neville the sword seller with some of his children

I drink cava from a coconut shell.

After completing my diving course without drowning, I venture further east along the coast of Viti Levu to the capital Suva. This is an ageing colonial city in one of the wettest parts of the island. It does have a few things of interest and has a very Indian feel when you wander through the food market where the locals buy most of there provisions. The most memorable thing in Suva is the 'Reverend Baker's Boot' in the national Museum; apparently the Reverend Baker was a British missionary who tried to convert some natives in the 1800s. However, he offended their sensibilities somehow so the killed him and ate him. They even tried to eat his boot but found it a little tough; the leather fragment in the museum is all that remained of the good preacher.

My final day in Fiji was spent near the city of Lautoka from where I went to visit a wilderness park up in the hills nearby. My driver to the park was a very friendly Indian who was very keen that I use his taxi to get to the airport later rather than taking the public bus. To this end he invited me home to have dinner with his wife and family; I accept his offer. After serving up a fine meal and plying me with kava, I had to conclude that these were simply very hospitable people and it left me with a very warm impression of my stay in Fiji.

Waterfall in lush rainforest at Abaca Heritage Park, Lautoka