August 5, 2025
Fiji was never on my list of places to visit, so I had little knowledge of what I was getting into. But when you win a fully paid dive trip to Fiji, you go!
Fiji is not subtle. It revealed itself quickly and in great contrast – between indulgence and simplicity, upscale and subsistence, air-conditioned resort life and villages where fresh river water is still a gift from the mountains, not a tap.
Like the Caribbean is to the United States, Fiji is to Australia and New Zealand: a nearby paradise, well-worn by tourists who come for a tan and stay poolside. Many never leave their resorts. And they maybe miss the true heart of the place.
From Volivoli to Ring Gold: Contrasts in Comfort, Commonality in Kindness
I began at Volivoli Beach Resort, who had kindly been part of the gift package, a chill, upscale (but not too upscale) dive resort on the northern tip of Viti Levu. There were no infinity pools, or dive boats with hot towels, although they did have hot tea (it is winter down here after all.) But it’s set up for divers, with plenty of places to hang your gear, 3 delicious meals of your choice a day, simple but spacious accommodations with hot water and electricity – it’s easy, beautiful, and built for diving.
After enjoying my leaping off week (seen off by my bestie Sandra), I did a complete 180 and made my way to Ring Gold Divers in the village and a homestay – no air conditioning, no restaurant, and no frills. But my hosts, who lived beyond modestly with the bare minimum or anything, treated me like family. And despite the material contrast, the spirit of welcome never wavered. It was the same warmth I felt throughout Fiji. You can’t walk 10 minutes on a village road without someone offering you a ride. I lost track of how many times a friendly “Bula!” was followed by an open truck door and a lift down the road. (Please don’t tell my late mother I accepted them, she’d haunt me with safety lectures.)
Fijians have very little by Western standards. Many live off the land, subsistence farming, chickens scratching in the yard, generators a few sparse hours of the day for electricity, rainwater tanks, or rivers flowing straight from mountain aquifers. If there’s a village store, it’s likely to carry just the essentials: rice, flour, tinned meat, and the ubiquitous “long loaf,” baked fresh daily.
But they are certainly not idle.
Fijians work hard, but at what they want to work at: tending land, feeding family, caring for community. Their resistance to colonial definitions of labor runs deep; the British had to import Indian laborers[1] to work the sugarcane plantations, and to this day, it’s often Indo-Fijians who run the shops and own the businesses. I asked more than a few native Fijians whether they ever wished they had a business of their own, since the Indo-Fijians clearly continue to own the majority of businesses today and hold more wealth. Every time, there was a thoughtful pause, a shrug, and then a calm “No.” No desire to chase that kind of success. No resentment, either. Just a different set of priorities.
But there’s also no visible signs of anxiety or hyperactivity, no endless hustle to consume or perform. No headlines about Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s, either. Just clean air (when they’re not burning rubbish), fresh food, and communities that function without needing a dozen apps and five delivery services. Not saying it’s better or worse, just different. I certainly could not live with that level of simplicity.
And it felt safe, remarkably so. One night I found myself walking home after dark and fell into step with three men heading the same way. They greeted me with a casual “Bula,” then returned to their conversation in Fijian. When I turned off toward a small shop, they looked genuinely puzzled. “Where are you going?” one asked. “Just grabbing some water,” I said. That satisfied them, and they all smiled and wished me a warm good night. In the U.S., I’d have been on high alert in the same situation – keeping distance and a watchful eye. But here, I never felt unsafe. I’m not romanticizing it, bad things happen in Fiji too. One of my homestays sat across from the local prison, and I woke each morning to the sound of the inmates singing (yes, really).[2]But that constant, low-level vigilance I carry as a woman alone around men in the U.S.? It just didn’t show up here.
Living for What Matters. (What Matters???)
In the West, we work all day to push paper, argue over parking spaces, or keep corporations from violating laws they shouldn’t break in the first place. In Fiji, people work to eat, and once that’s done, they gather, laugh, nap, sing, or fish. No side hustles. No five-year plans. Just life. Messy, vibrant, human.
Fiji isn’t utopia. There are struggles, substance abuse, domestic violence, poverty. But the organizing principle seems to be: take care of your people.
There are other striking contrasts besides material things.
Naturally it’s a rather patriarchal society and after basic education girls are just expected to stay in the village with their families until they get married and have a family (large) of their own.
In families without daughters, it’s common for one son, often the third, to be raised as a girl, known as a vakasalewalewa. These individuals are effeminate, often wear makeup or jewelry, and are widely accepted within the village fabric. They take on domestic and caretaking roles for the parents, not as outcasts, but as a recognized and respected part of society. No headlines. No backlash. Just tradition, adaptation, and quiet dignity. Are they stifled? Do they suffer? Likely. Maybe. But certainly not from others prejudices it seems.
There is so much more to say about Fiji, and the people I met and the places I stayed. I was not always comfortable with the level of what we would refer to as poverty and the places I stayed. But it’s good to push past your comfort zone and realize you can survive without much.
Recommendations
If you’re heading to Fiji and want both the polish and the pulse, here are a few of my favorite finds. But more than anything? Take the bus. Wander into town. Ask someone for directions. Accept the long loaf. Say yes to the ride.
Viti Levu: Where to stay and dive
Dive and stay with Volivoli Beach Resort (Rakiraki, Viti Levu)
For top-tier diving and comfort, Volivoli was the place (realizing I didn’t stay at any other resorts!) Of all the places I dove in Fiji, the reefs here were the most vibrant – outrageous numbers of fish and nudibranchs, and so much ghost coral. Pure joy!
Dive and stay with Ring Gold Divers (Rakiraki)
If you’re looking for something more grounded, check out Ring Gold Divers just south of Volivoli. The dive boats are small, the vibe is local, the family is large, and you might even catch your dinner during surface intervals. I spent a long Saturday hanging out while the men drank kava and gossiped, and the women (as usual) made everything actually happen. Some things are universal.
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063622954295
For reference, I took the local bus from Rakiraki to Suva City, then on to Pacific Harbor, and finally into Nadi. Everyone along the way was incredibly helpful, pointing me to the right bus, helping me stow my bag, and making sure I got where I needed to go. On one leg, I ended up having dinner with Pita, a local artist who wanted to show me all his work (his actual artwork, not a euphemism!). Big smile, no regrets. Don’t be afraid to look a little lost and feel like a bit of a muppet, people will help.
A quick word about Suva City:
Most travelers I met told me to skip it, they were mostly resort-goers looking for beaches, not city life. But Suva has a lot going on. It’s absolutely worth spending a couple days exploring the markets, soaking in the city’s rhythm, and checking out its surprisingly diverse architecture. If you want to see a different side of Fiji, this is where it’s happening.
Dive with Beqa Adventure Divers (Pacific Harbour, Viti Levu)
If sharks are your thing, this is the place. I’m not usually a fan of fed shark dives, but Beqa has been doing this for decades, with real research and conservation built in. They stagger feed days and track the sharks to make sure they still roam their natural range. Dive here, then move on, there’s not much in Pacific Harbour worth sticking around for.
Sigatoka Sand Dunes National Park is absolutely worth the hour-long bus ride from Pacific Harbor, as is a wander through the town of Sigatoka itself. The park offers more than just towering, Sahara-sized dunes, you’ll also find trees full of giant bats. Big ones. It was super cool and totally unexpected.
Taveuni: Where to stay and dive
For reference I flew into Taveuni and then took the ferry to Savusavu (which includes the bus ride to actual town) and flew back to Nadi from there. A little planes, trains, bus and automobiles but I like seeing and traveling a bit like the locals do who are all about the ferries.
Dive with Taveuni Ocean Sports (Taveuni)
This crew gets it right. Julie and her team are incredibly good at matching dive groups by skill level, so you’re not paired with someone who burns through their air in 10 minutes or ends up 30 feet above you. And the food? Unreal. Think vegan curry wraps, garden-fresh veggies with homemade hummus, baked treats, and actual hot chai. Best dive boat meals I’ve ever had. FRFR!
https://www.taveunioceansports.com
Stay at Water Slide Camp (South end)
A true homestay near the natural waterslide and walking distance to the dive shop. Masi and his mom built a sweet little setup: a covered deck with a permanent tent, mattress, table, chairs, and power (generator kicks in after 6 pm). There’s an indoor toilet and a hot shower, heated with propane tank! It’s simple and close to the family home, which gives you a real idea of how people live here. Simple meals are on offer at a very reasonable price but it’s an easy walk (I deem anything less than 2 miles an easy walk) to a market and Kai Time Restaurant, great for cocktails and meals.
https://www.facebook.com/p/Waterslide-Camp-Homestay-61570047947939
https://arohataveuni.com Kai Time restaurant is part of this lodge, I did not stay there
Stay at Bibi’s Hideaway (North end)
Walking distance to the airport and easygoing in the best way. Pauline has a handful of standalone bures with bathrooms and kitchens. I had no mosquito issues, but kept the door closed just in case. Window screens were solid, and everyone provides coils to burn. No outdoor lighting, so bring a flashlight for late walks. You’ll arrive to a giant plate of fruit picked directly off the trees on the property. Super comfy and low-key.
https://www.facebook.com/paulina.bibi
Savusavu (Vanua Levu)
KoroSun Dive
This one’s a bit of a mixed bag. Colin, the owner, was described to me as a “character”, but that doesn’t quite cover it. He dives at rocket speed and doesn’t check if anyone’s keeping up. The new divers on the boat didn’t know better and just chased after him. I let him go and did my own thing. Other dive masters there are solid, though he tends to badmouth them, which tells you plenty. No hammerheads on my trip, and honestly, the diving in Rakiraki was far better. But if you’re curious about swimming into the blue, it might be worth a shot. I would just recommend requesting Colin NOT be your dive guide.
Latui Lodge in Savusavu (Airbnb)
Candida and Grant have created a gorgeous little hideaway behind their home. Outdoor shower, full soaking tub, thoughtfully designed space, and a warm welcome. It’s very affordable, probably because the walk up from the road is STEEP, but it never once felt like a hassle. More like bonus cardio.
[1] They were called “indentured workers” a convenient and semantic workaround, since slavery had been outlawed in the United Kingdom just a few years earlier. In theory, after five years of labor, they could choose to stay or return to India. But unless they worked for ten years, the return trip wasn’t paid for. And, of course, the debts they supposedly repaid during the first voyage never quite added up to a ticket home.
[2] Music is woven into the fabric of Fijian life. I’ve never seen so many people who can effortlessly pick up a guitar and play. And not just play, but really play, with soul. Everyone sings, too. Not timidly, not off-key, but with rich, resonant harmony. Music is taught in schools here. Not in the “everyone suffer through the recorder” way we endured in the U.S. (does that still happen?) but as a real craft. They learn to harmonize, distinguish melody from counterpoint, and the result is something genuinely beautiful.