Excerpts from my journal, April 21st, cont.

As we approach the island it looks just like it did in all the photos.   An island shaped like a heart, bordered in white sand and placed in the middle of the south pacific.  The ownership is shared by the village people of Tavarua and two couples from the United States.

The staff is standing on the shore wearing floral shirts and sulus, guitars and ukelales in hand, playing a traditional Fijian tune.  We slowly glide towards the shore as the music builds, the smiles widen and the song ends with a load, “Bula!”.  The guests are helped off the boats and instructed to register at the office and enjoy our stay. I don’t think that will be hard to do.

After registering, we head down the cobble stone pathway to Bure 6.  There is a ceramic bucket of water at the base of the steps to wash the sand off our feet and a few steps lead up to a small porch.  The one room bure has 3 double beds and a bathroom.  A couple of paintings of island woman hang on the wall and the beams over head are wrapped in Tapa and adorned with shells. There are fresh cut bird of paradise and white habiscus around the room. 

The noon conch shell call signals the start of lunch.  We feast on the first of many delicious meals of fresh fish, fruits, and salads.  Sweet potatoe, pumpkin, coconut milk, curries, rice, tuna, and sashimi will fill our plates for the next seven days. 

The small pool sits under the palms surrounded by lounge chairs.  Water cascades down a small waterfall at the far end of the pool. The spa sits there empty during the heat of the day but will soon welcome the tired muscles of the surfers as the sun sets.  It doesn’t take long to begin to sense the magic of this island.  We jump in.