A step into a simpler time, an easygoing local culture as welcoming as the lushness of this tropical rain forest and as welcoming as the captivating beauty of the liquid blue sea. This is Taveuni, Fiji.
We take flight in a small deHavilland propeller plane from the town of Nadi. We fly across the craggy green and golden mountains, dark rivers and small villages of Viti Levu. We see for the first time the clear turquoise reefs I long to scuba through. In a few days, I will be grateful to experience the Big 50, and for me I am reminded that every day is a gift. This is the spot on the globe I want to be most of all with my two men, both the loves of my life. Touching down with a bounce and a smile on a black one-lane runway, stark against the green coco palms which border the lane and beyond, we land in paradise.
“Your bags will arrive in a few hours as unaccompanied luggage,” we hear from the voice of an official Fiji Airways man. He is dressed in a blue uniform that looks like it would be too hot to wear in this warmth. Yet this is Fiji winter. A warm winter world I will love to experience. Warm golden sun and southern Pacific breezes touch my skin for the first time. I barely care about the bags being late. We safely make it to the 180 degree longitude, skipping a day at this International Date Line. What was once only a speck on a map to me is now tantalizingly tangible, and we have only just landed.
I get a handshake greeting from Ron, who is dressed in a blue button-down “Bula” shirt, his dark brown eyes shining under thick eyelashes and above a broad easy smile. In minutes we are in the silver 4×4 truck on our short drive to Nakia Resort and Dive.
A paradise truly unfolds at our cliff side home for six glorious days full of Scuba, waterfall hikes, meeting new people whom I hope will become lifelong friends and peaceful starry nights. Robin, Jim and Julie moved here from Kauai, Hawaii to start their new chapter, turning a derelict coconut farm on this remote island into a resort of understated tropical elegance.
The scuba diving is beyond belief; there are more species of hard and soft coral here in Taveuni than anywhere on the planet and more fish species as well. I witness a single graceful and grand Manta, a sleeping reef shark, a bright purple octopus, nudibranch beyond number and purple and yellow flatworms that deserve a better name – maybe magic carpet would be right. Out of the ocean, we slide down the natural volcanic Waitavavla water slides with our new friend Francis into clear cold ponds.
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Boom, Boom, Bouma.
We survive the road to the Bouma National Park to visit the Tavoro waterfalls. It is a fun, bouncy ride over unpaved roads past small villages that were built by strong hands near riverbanks. There are three equally beautiful waterfalls here. You get to them by hiking through a lush jungle that fantasies are made of, except for the 375 steps that we climb in the humid heat of the day to reach waterfall number Two. Worth the effort in every way you can imagine.
There are just a FEW mosquitos on this island and they are all looking for my juicy type O blood. I have many itchy red bites and I have to wear everything you could think of; OFF with Deet, Skin so Soft, Citronella and lemon grass. I still need to wear capri pants even in the water under the falls, because getting in and out is a serious mosquito safari, given the recent rains. When we make it back down and enjoy a picnic lunch by the river, I took my pants off and place them over a porch rail to dry and wrap a towel around me. Hours later, back at Nakia, Topher says, “Honey, where are your pants?” …Looking down I say, “Hmm, I do not know,” as we all burst out in laughter. I realize I left them hanging hours away, laying across a turquoise-colored riverside porch rail back at Bouma.
The crabratula is my final funny story at Bouma Waterfalls. I walk with athletic shoes while Topher and Tanner are in flip flops for the hike, so I am at my own pace feeling foxy far in front of the boys when I scream. A big, dark creepy-crawly is in my path and I run backwards towards my boys yelling about a tarantula. 3,2,1 Topher says, “Honey, I think that’s just a crab.” Oh, how we laugh and how I will love the memory of that sideways stepping purple Crabrantula.
I love Taveuni and its simpler time, when you eat what you grow, use the light of the day, and if you can’t get WIFI or your bags right away, it is no big deal. I hope to come back again to a perfect simpler time.
THE END … for now…
This looks like a beautiful trip! Can’t wait to see more!