ROSS THORBY: FIJI FEELS LIKE A DIFFERENT WORLD

As soon as the plane doors were opened our senses were invaded by the warm rush of air plundering into the cabin, then our nostrils.

Even through our confining masks we knew that we had crossed the divide and were now in a “new world”. Welcome to Fiji. Dorothy, we definitely are not in Kansas anymore.

From Port Denarau, I crossed on the catamaran to Malolo Lailai, the small island off Malolo that hosts a couple of upmarket resorts and a number of private villas, all of which appear to be maintained “Owner Ready” with a multitude of staff constantly trimming, weeding, painting and repairing - just in case one of the lucky owners suddenly feels like some warm sun and a cocktail on an exotic tropical island in the Pacific.

I reached the island in the glow of a setting sun, the warm caress of a tropical breeze and the melodic twang of a guitar accompanied the gentle swaying of performers on the wharf. You could be nowhere else in the world.

Here the welcome is warm and the smiles are whiter than a polar bear in a blizzard. My return to the sea to cruise from the main island was far too short and initially left me frustrated and pining for a longer cruise, but were feelings that quickly dissipated when greeted by welcoming family long separated by the winter of our isolation and confinement.

On a hill overlooking Muscat Cove, is “The Villa”, a magnificent Fijian inspired house which was to be our home for the duration, a grand central bure contained behind a shuttered and sheltered verandah with outstretched wings of accommodations overlooking an inviting pool that seemed to hang precariously out in the air above the azure blue sea below and beyond. Here we have everything we could ask for, a media room, spa pool, pool table, a full cocktail bar and “Dan” the manager, ready to oblige our every bidding.

Fiji seems like a different world; nobody is wearing a mask and in fact you are given strange looks for donning one. It is as if our last two-and-a-half years have all been a dream.

Transport for us around the island was in golf buggies along roads barely wider than footpaths. The smooth noiseless vehicles added a serenity to the island that is absent on the mainland. The laid back atmosphere created, equalled the lax attitude of the locals along with their “island time” attention to detail.

In dawn’s amber light on day two, we were taken around the point in a speedboat to the beach behind the house where we dropped off the sides into the clear, lukewarm Pacific. With snorkel and flippers we explored the colourful coral and sea-life below - turtle, sea horse and a multitude of fish including my newly nicknamed Versace Fish, a glorious tropical fellow striped in white yellow and black. If Gianni had ever designed a fish - it was this one. The coral below us spread across the seafloor and across outcrops of marine landscape displayed all the colours of the rainbow - blue starfish lay inert on the ledges, and angelfish, lionfish, clownfish and a neon blue fish flitted around unperturbed by our intrusion from the surface above.

It was ironic that this day was our most colourful and joyful of experiences. The paid excursions to snorkel over the next few days were not a patch on this spontaneous and economical jaunt initiated just off a public and easily accessible beach. in an exotic version of a Hi-de-Hi holiday camp, while their now relaxed parents enjoyed the peace and tranquility of the bar and beach - relieved of their charges. At the neighbouring and upmarket childless Muscat Cove resort, honeymooners revelled in their new lives together on white sandy beaches in an exotic Pacific idyl not even disturbed enough to raise their heads from the sand to gaze at the occasional helicopter or chartered plane that buzzed the airfield to disgorge eager and moneyed tourists.

Money is flooding back into Fiji’s economy previously devastated by the pandemic, but now seemingly back on track on turbo-charge making me realise that the world has restarted and left us in New Zealand behind. I just hope it’s not too late for us to catch up.

Ah well, time for more important things. James! Charge up the blender, I need another cocktail with one of those little umbrellas. (ROSS THORBY)  PN