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It felt as if we could have been back in Thailand as our minbus swerved onto the other side of the road to avoid the numerous potholes on our way from the airport. After meeting Becky at the Nadi Bay Resort following her 24 hour flight from England, and discarding our jumpers and snow boots, we headed down to the bar to start our 'holiday.'
Getting to 'The Beachouse' on the Coral Coast the following morning was not going to be as easy as we'd first hoped as inevitably it was a public holiday. This meant we had to cover the two hour drive in an overpriced taxi, but we did at least gain a very biased view of Fiji life from the driver, who determined that the Indians work the land, whilst the Fijians just sit around all day, this may well be true of course.
The resort had a perfect setting in the middle of nowhere, it seemed, and with its own private beach and swimming pool there was no reason to leave, so we didn't. Our days would comprise of complimentary breakfast, sunbathing, lunch, more sunbathing, complimentary tea and scones, a little nap, dinner and then drinks.
There were a selection of activities and daytrips on offer but I'm ashamed to say that we didn't make use of them as we were too content lounging around in hammocks under palm trees. We did allow ourselves the odd game of volleyball though, and also a trip out into the bay on a kayak.
The weather was very changeable and although the first couple of days were glorious, the middle of the week turned a bit grim and we were forced to exchange our hammocks for sofas in the dry. The sun reappeared for our last few days, however, and we were able to work on our tans which had faded during the New Zealand winter.
As has become customary on this trip, there were quite a few people staying at The Beachouse who we'd met at various stages over the previous four months, so were were able to establish a nice group to enjoy the week with.
There was a chance for us to embrace some Fijian culture by taking part in the Kava ceremony, an obligatory part of any trip to Fiji, it seems. From what we could make out, the root of an unidentified plant is dried to obtain a dark grey powder which is then mixed with water to create what can only be descibed as muddy water. The custom is for each person to clap three times, shout "Bula", and down a coconut cup full of the suspicious liquid in one go. Kava only seems to have one taste and that's one of soil, although Kev claimed that he quite liked it, but then he's never one to turn down an offering of food or drink, especially when it's free.
When it came for us to fly to LA we all felt as if we could've stayed another week at least. We had a brilliant time, made some good friends, and more importantly, we got to stay in one place for longer than a few days which was the real luxury.
Rosa
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