Schoolies forget the Gold Coast and party in paradise

AS Schoolies on the Gold Coast has come to mean trouble, Fijian island getaways are surging as safer alternatives.

Partygoers watch the sun set at the Gold Coast, Queensland / Nicole Garmston

WHAT the hell happened last night?

Waking up on the heavenly sands of Fiji's Malolo LaiLai Island next to the glistening azure of the sea, this is the only thing going through my mind.

Any admiration for the tropical beauty before me is quashed by the glare of the sun scorching my eyes, my head throbbing with what feels like nails and the puzzling disappearance of my shirt.

It seems on my last night of Schoolies my true love has given me 12 shots of Jager, 11 gin and tonics, 10 vodka Red Bulls, nine mugs of lager, eight dry scotch whiskeys, seven white Russians, six tequila shooters, five Mojitos, four rum and cokes, three white wines, two light middies and one hell of a hango-ver-er.

It serves me right for spending a week stupidly trying to keep up with hundreds of teenagers whose internal organs are relatively new to the effects of alcohol and seem impervious to its perils.

For two weeks out of the year, part of Malolo LaiLai and a number of Fiji's other islands open their shores to more than 1000 hormonally-charged 17 and 18-year-olds, eager to celebrate the end of school.

DJs play eight-hour sets from dusk till dawn, turning the beaches into dance floors pulsating with energy and the scene for many alcohol-fuelled courtships.

The group awaiting our arrival in their various bikini tops and Daisy Dukes shorts had spent the previous week on the island and were to leave the next morning.

They let out a collective Hallelujah - they had been complaining all week about the lack of testosterone on the island.

The boys reciprocate by climbing over each other like puppies in a pet store with their droopy, lust-struck, bloodhound eyes.

Later in the evening the crowd thins out, doors close, lights turn off, hammocks become overladen and bodies lie together intimately for kilometres along the beach.

"I was in a hammock and a security guard walked over, shined a light and said, 'yeah, go to bed'," 18-year-old Boyd says.

By the end of the week I become acquainted with the term bitty - street slang which translates into 'attractive female', as in "Hey, check out that fine bitty".

When asked, Boyd's mate Jarrod, 18, says he "probably (had) too much bitty this week".

Boyd replies: "Too much bitty? You can never have too much bitty."

Jarrod: "Nah, if you average it out, it's probably three for each of us."

The boys reckon their chances of hooking up on Schoolies are far greater on an island in Fiji than in a packed Gold Coast.

It was about four years since I was last on Schoolies and like tens of thousands of others, I made the pilgrimage to the Gold Coast.

Amid all the ugly brawls, the claustrophobic crowding up and down the strip, the local custom of seedily watching naked women dance around a pole and confrontations with sleazy toolies and amphetamine-ridden louts, I left feeling kind of dirty and disappointed.

Two years ago Jot Lynas set up Unleashed Travel after seeing a gap in the Schoolies market for those school leavers looking for both an international and safer alternative.

The response has been rapid, with Unleashed's 2010 schoolies events nearly sold out and Lynas already receiving deposits for future trips 18 months in advance.

"I think the model is right by doing the personalised service, by escorting 17 and 18-year-olds on probably their first trip overseas and the safety element of that," he says.

"Also it's a sexy product, going to Schoolies, spending a week on a tropical island in Fiji with events specifically designed for them."

Unleashed will expand next year into Bali with the possibility of Vanuatu and another island in Fiji in 2011.
Lynas says the key to Unleashed's success has been gaining the approval of parents who are reluctant to send their kids to the Gold Coast due to its bad press.

"When you start talking schoolies holidays with parents, they kind of freak out," he says.

"But then you explain to them what we do and mention the extra security, extra staff and escort service they kind of relax."

He says the biggest challenge throughout the week is keeping the schoolies safe from themselves. But despite the amount of alcohol there are no major incidents, no stomachs being pumped or vomit painting the footpaths.

Perhaps though it's the older observers who are more inclined to overdo it.

"You're the journo, let's have shots!'' is the call that comes from a bunch of 18-year-olds who surround me at the bar, and because they are so courteous, I politely oblige.

A herd of revved-up adolescents can be rather persuasive; surely there must be a place for them in the UN to solve global warming.

Even before the tequila shot even greets my tonsils, up goes the cry of ``let's go again''.

OK one more, then that's it.

Following every one of the 14 shots of tequila, gin or Jagermeister, a cheer goes up and the ovation bestowed upon me becomes increasingly seductive.

But after the bar tendering becomes blurred, I find myself dancing like the late Russian swingster Boris Yeltsin and realise I have spent an hour holding a one-sided conversation with a non-English speaking Fijian about the merits of an emissions trading scheme.

So I concede it's time for bed.

Walking back to my room I bump into a young guy struggling to carry a mini-fridge and out of generosity, I help.

Before long the fridge carrier and I are on the receiving end of stern words from management.

How was I to know the guy was stealing it out of his mate's room? I just had 14 shots for Heaven's sake.

At breakfast the next morning, the news has circulated like wildfire and in between my toast and eggs, I am constantly greeted as the 'fridge bandit'.

To escape my newfound notoriety I take off in a kayak for the day, rowing around the island, swimming and snorkelling among the astonishingly clear water and coral reefs.

If there's a better way to cure a hangover I haven't found it, despite the burning sensation of my middle back where my sunscreen-smeared fingers couldn't reach.

While I spend the rest of the week with the odd beer on the beach here and gin and tonic by the bar there, many hit the booze as soon as lunch is called.

But on the last night, I surrender myself to the wild party which engulfs the beach, down a couple of vodka and Red Bulls and dance like a maniac to the tunes of Keisha, David Guetta and a list of other people I've never heard of.

Fast forward a number of hours and here I lie in an ugly state in paradise.

As I discover the explanation is simple - all I wanted to do was spend my last morning on the island waking up on the beach and absorbing the majestic Fijian sunrise tinging the still, blue water.

Fair enough. But that doesn't explain where my shirt has gone.

IF YOU GO:
Unleashed's Schoolies packages for 2010 are available to book/

Packages: Fiji's Beachcomber Island (Schoolies only) from $1580 Fiji's Plantation Island (Schoolies only) from $1830 Fiji's Sonaisali Island (Schoolies only) from $1820.

All packages include return airfares, transfers, escorting service to and from the airport and island, accommodation, meals, daily activities, nightly entertainment and parties including DJs and extra security.

The writer was a guest of Unleashed Travel.

For more information visit the National Schoolies Website.