Author name Seeking adventure and finding cultural connection on Viti Levu

You might know Fiji as a ‘flop and drop’ destination—a term I heard a lot of during my seven days in this tropical paradise. Y’know, a place where Aussies can come over by the plane-full in search of a resort where they can sun themselves, gorge on buffet meals and have one too many cocktails at the swim-up bar.

And I admit I was one of them. This was my third time in Fiji, but the first time I actually left the white sands of Natadola Beach at the InterContinental, dragged myself out of the adults-only pool at the Sheraton or slept in anything other than one of the Marriott’s overwater bungalows.

What I didn’t realise was just how much Fiji had to offer. Beyond the brochure cliches lies a country bursting with warmth, infectious spirit and a whole lot of thrilling adventure. But before I dive headfirst into the latter (spoiler alert: there’s a lot of water involved), there’s a word we should talk about that you’ll hear approximately 12 seconds after landing in Fiji: bula.

Yes, it’s a greeting: a way of saying hello. And yes, it technically means, “life,” but it’s so much more than the sum of its four letters. It’s a blessing of good health, an unspoken challenge to embrace life with both arms wide open, an invitation to try new things, and a genuine and enthusiastic, “We’re so glad you’re here.”

And guess what? Fijians love it when you say it back. The more heartfelt it sounds, the more people light up with smiles and stories that’ll make you feel as if you’ve stumbled into a country full of your closest friends and family – a truly comforting feeling when you’re so far from home.

But back to the adventure.

Kayaking wasn’t the first adventurous activity our group did, but it was one of my favourites. Paddling through Fiji’s mangroves felt like entering a natural cathedral, except the pews are roots and the stained glass is made up of sunlight filtering through the lush green foliage.

The water might have been calm, but my breathing definitely wasn’t. Prepare to use every last ounce of your shoulder strength, especially if you’re trying to impress the local guides with your athletic prowess like I tried to (and failed at).

We glided through peaceful winding channels, only occasionally bumping into things we shouldn’t, and passed hundreds of mangroves acting like guardians of this little slice of Fiji’s ecosystem. It was serene…until someone glided too close to a wasp’s nest.

But the kayaking was preparing us for the main event, the activity I couldn’t wait to try: whitewater rafting down the Upper Navua River. Our Rivers Fiji guides briefed us on all the safety precautions, like how to position your body in the water if you fall out and how numb our butts were going to feel, but they didn’t warn us about how breathtaking the narrow (in some parts) waterway would be.

The river’s flanked by towering volcanic cliffs, lush rainforest straight out of Tarzan and waterfalls you can actually get close to. But my serene surroundings lulled me into a false sense of security. At one point I was even wondering if I’d break a sweat. Then came the rapids.

Okay so it’s not like we were paddling down the Futaleufu River in Chile, but these rapids weren’t nothing either. The only thing piercing the sounds of crashing water on rocks was our guide Moses’ voice, telling us to, “Paddle together family,” shouting as if our life depended on it.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: you’ll survive. Not only because the Rivers Fiji guides are pros (Moses has been rafting the river for decades), but also because the adrenaline-inducing rapids are over before you know it, quick to be replaced by calmer sections of the river. Your fully wet clothes—and some sick GoPro footage—are the only reminders that it ever even happened.

Here’s the thing though, as exhilarating as its adventures are, it’s the people of this island country that steal the show. Fijians are renowned for their hospitality, which isn’t the polished, almost rehearsed kind you get at the fancy resorts. It’s authentic, sincere and infused with a sense of humour that’s hard to find anywhere else.

During our stay at Natalei Eco Lodge (located in Dawasamu), I found myself sitting cross-legged on the floor, drinking kava (a mild sedative ceremonial drink) and trying to follow the words of the nearby village’s chief. I didn’t understand a thing and had only been subtly coached by our gracious tour guides on what to expect and how to behave.

But the locals just good-naturedly laughed at each one of our slight mistakes, and simply smiled when one of us asked for a, “Very low, low, low tide.” They didn’t take themselves too seriously, and by the end of your stay in this country, you won’t either. It turns out Tourism Fiji’s slogan—where happiness comes naturally—isn’t just a saying, it’s a sentiment.

*Image credit to the Adventure Travel Trade Association and Studio 4×4*