We were skidding across the turquoise sea like a water bug. Ten minutes before, we had boarded the boat from Taveuni, a Fijian island that\u2019s so small you need a magnifying glass to find it on the map. A van had materialized at the tiny airfield where our amusement park-sized plane had landed and transported us down a bumpy dirt road, under a tunnel of palms and past a village of thatch-roofed huts to a small clearing where a motorboat sat waiting. It was our ride to Qamea Island, another miniscule isle, this one so small you couldn\u2019t find it on a map with the Hubble Space Telescope.<\/p>\n
We were on Day 1 of a week\u2019s journey around Fiji, bound for three of its swankest and most authentic beach resorts, two located on far-flung islands in the northeastern and northwestern regions of the archipelago, and one nestled on the \u201cAdventure Coast\u201d of Viti Levu, Fiji\u2019s largest isle and home to the city of Nadi and the country\u2019s international airport.<\/p>\n
We huddled against the searing sun under a small makeshift canvas awning, the boat skipping across phosphorescent waves shimmering every shade of sapphire. \u201cLand!\u201d someone shouted. A shapeless mound on the horizon had finally revealed itself as a tiny, mountainous isle ringed by blinding-white sands. The driver cut the engine, and as we drifted into shore on the waves, the line of villagers on shore began singing Fiji\u2019s official \u201cWelcome Song.\u201d<\/p>\n
A few words about Fiji<\/h3>\n
Fiji is the poster child for tropical paradise, with more than 330 isles, only a third inhabited. Many of them are blessed with startling airbrushed beaches and lush, fantasia-like mountains, where waterfalls thunder from jungled heights and tropical flowers glow from the gloom of the fern-upholstered rainforests: purple and pink hibiscus, ivory Lady of the Night, Red Firecracker Fern, to name a few.<\/p>\n
Yet despite its wild beauty, Fiji had never been on my bucket list: As a Peace Corps volunteer in the Caribbean, I\u2019d seen too many native fishing villages bulldozed, too many villagers displaced so some faceless foreign developer could built another luxury resort. If this was happening in Fiji, I didn\u2019t want to see it.<\/p>\n
Fortunately, it wasn\u2019t, and here\u2019s why: The indigenous Fijians, who make up more than half of Fiji\u2019s population and many of whom still live in villages, own more than 80 percent of the country\u2019s land, and this land can never be bought or sold. If someone wants to build a resort on native land, they must get permission from the village and then lease the land from it.<\/p>\n
This is a happy fact of life for tourists seeking an authentic Fijian experience: At the three resorts we visited, nearly all the staff were from nearby villages and everything \u2014 from the \u2028entertainment to the spa treatments \u2014 was 100 percent Fijian.<\/p>\n
Many indigenous Fijians choose to live a simple and communal lifestyle, one that has been handed down from one generation to the next. In the villages we visited, they lived in thatch-roofed huts with dirt floors and kerosene lamps, and they washed their clothing in the river.<\/p>\n
Although their lifestyle struck us as rustic, they seemed so happy \u2014 joyful, even \u2014 that it gave us pause. The Fijians were also the friendliest people I had ever met: Even though we were just passing through, they greeted us with a heart-felt \u201cBula!\u201d every time they saw us.<\/p>\n
Settling into Qamea Resort And Spa<\/h3>\n
My beachfront bure had a tiny living room with wicker furnishings, a king bed made up in soft linens, a spacious bathroom with a heated towel rack, and\u00a0 an outdoor rain shower outfitted with fragrant coconut toiletries called \u201cPure Fiji.\u201d If this stuff could give me the long, silken tresses of the Fijian women, I\u2019d use it for life!<\/p>\n
Just a few steps beyond my red \u201cdo-not-disturb\u201d coconut there was crystal clear snorkeling off the beach, awesome diving, wind surfing, catamaran sailing, guided kayaking through thick mangroves into neighboring villages, beachfront yoga and a short sarong-tying demo that could have saved me hours dressing for dinner had I chosen to attend. But it had been a long day\u2019s journey to get here and all I really want to do was chill. \nA massage was in order, so I walked over a kissing bridge and into a rainforest to the beautiful little spa. My masseuse said she did it all, so I took her hands \u2014 they were warm and strong \u2014 and said \u201cgo for it.\u201d Her traditional Fijian Bobo massage was so rigorous it left bruises but dissolved every known knot in my bod. She followed it with a traditional Fijian hibiscus and coconut body wrap that turned my skin into butter \u2014 even the calluses on my elbows and knees had vanished.<\/p>\n
From the spa, I walked to the swank indoor-outdoor restaurant for afternoon tea, then headed back to my bure and collapsed in my hammock, hoping to see the green flash as the sun dipped in to the sea. I woke at dusk to the sound of a conch horn announcing dinner.<\/p>\n
We dove into a California-meets-Fiji feast with tomato and tamarind soup, king prawn salad, seared tuna with pickled cucumber and Asian greens and for dessert, a dreamy French baked chocolate tart with salted caramels and cream. Then we watched the villagers perform a Meke Ceremony in which they use traditional singing and dancing to pass on stories and legends from one generation to another. Near the end of the performance, they invited us to join them. I spent the next hour dancing barefoot under the stars. Back in my bure, I witnessed a miracle: My cracked, callused feet had been polished smooth by the sand!<\/p>\n
The next morning, we breakfasted on fresh tropical fruits, omelets and fresh-baked pastries and then piled back into the motorboat to go back to Taveuni (\u201cThe Garden Isle\u201d) and Bouma National Heritage Park. Our guide led us along a trail that climbed deep into the rainforest and up, up, up to two crashing waterfalls, the last one accessed by a steep ladder trail. We were so hot and tired we didn\u2019t wait for an invitation to plunge into the crystal pool and stand under the cascade\u2019s pounding spray. www.qamea.com<\/a><\/p>\n
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