Two resorts in one holiday? The only way to go in Fiji
The snorkelling here is out of this world and straight into another, a portal to a psychedelic coral cosmos from the imagination of Dr Seuss.
There are more than 300 islands in Fiji, 20 of them in the Mamanuca group, sprinkled just off the main island of Viti Levu, and I’ve just stepped off the boat onto the wrong one. Or rather, right island, wrong resort. Or rather, right resort, wrong day.
Confused? Spare a thought for Likuliku Lagoon Resort manager Tulia Seru, who’s trying to account for my unexpected presence. “I think you’re supposed to arrive on Friday,” she suggests, as I sip a prematurely-issued welcome drink at the Masima Bar, surrounded by palm trees and water so clear I can count the tropical fish pecking at the coral.
“No, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to arrive today,” I say, returning my lips to the straw of my pina colada.
I’m booked to stay here for three days, before moving on to Malolo Island Resort (owned by the same Fijian family), just around the headland. The possibility that I could perhaps be holding my itinerary upside-down doesn’t register in my sun-addled brain. Finally the penny drops, and I make profuse apologies as Tulia escorts me back to the jetty for a swift deportation.
As my bags are loaded, a guitarist strums the chords to Isa Lei, the traditional Fijian farewell song that anticipates the reunion of a departing loved one, a premonition realised three days later when I return, this time with a valid booking.
My intervening time at Malolo Island Resort provides valuable context for what sets Likuliku apart. Where Malolo is casual, and crammed with activity – kids clubs, performances, water sports, coconut bowling – Likuliku is a tranquil retreat where pampering and privacy are paramount. It’s adults only, sometimes described as couples only. The decree speaks of an expected decorum; a hint to save your exuberance for the floating party barge of Cloud 9 (accessible on a day excursion).
Likuliku is not so much a lagoon but a languorous, curling bay with a fringing reef just metres from the beach, part of a protected marine sanctuary. The snorkelling is out of this world and straight into another, a portal to a psychedelic coral cosmos from the imagination of Dr Seuss. Clouds of translucent tropical fish drift down like confetti; bright blue sea stars lie splayed on the coral. The distinctive discs of butterflyfish flash by in all directions, their abundance an indicator of a healthy reef. Healthy, too, are 24 Fijian crested iguanas, a native animal presumed extinct until rediscovered here at the resort – entirely by chance, when one fell out of a tree in 2010. A colony was quickly established and the animals are now happily breeding. The appointed ambassador, a mottled green male named Malolo, is proud father to three new babies, and delights guests by clinging to clothes and perching on heads during the weekly conservation talks.
Island-hopping boat excursions are part of a regular rotation of activities that include sunrise yoga, local village visits, garden walks and “early bird trolling”. I spend a lazy afternoon marooned on the tiny Mociu Island to snorkel a lazy lap of the reef, scramble to the lookout, and snooze under a gazebo with a picnic lunch.
Likuliku was the first Fijian resort to have overwater bures – luxury bungalows strung like a necklace across the coral reef. They offer an elevated experience in every sense. Step out of bed onto your private balcony laced with sun loungers, or descend a ladder into the sea. But you needn’t even get wet to get immersed in the marine life, thanks to glass panels set into the bure floor. My thatched-roof bure, meanwhile, is rendered with sea shells and stones, and set among a tropical garden. Guests are enticed from their cosseting to mingle and compare tropical outfits at Friday evening sunset drinks at the Masima Bar, and to cool off in the pool, which has one of the most transfixing infinity illusions I’ve seen, the turquoise ripples radiating into the sea so convincingly it looks as if you could breaststroke all the way to Castaway Island.
The dining is as good as it gets on an island where everything arrives by barge. Chef Gregory Llewellyn (ex-Hartsyard, Sydney) helms Fijiana, the only restaurant, conjuring an à la carte menu three times a day. Friday nights are the exception, when a traditional Fijian feast is laid on, with meats and vegetables bundled in banana leaves and cooked under hot rocks in a lovo pit.
On my final morning, the alarm goes off at 4.45am. I lace up hiking shoes and set off in the pre-dawn with my guide Sikeli to scale Mt Uluisilo, the highest point on Malolo Island. From the spiny ridgelines the blotched and scabby torso of the fire-ravaged island is revealed. Tropical dry forest once coated the Mamanuca Islands, but today only one per cent remains, a result of rampant land clearing. Sikeli says Likuliku is committed to conservation, including forest restoration, to provide safe habitat for the native animals.
It feels as though I’m leaving friends as Tulia escorts me to the jetty... again. As my boat pulls up I hear the strum of a guitar, followed by the honeyed voice of Tulia, singing the now familiar melody of Isa Lei. It’s even sadder the second time round.
Where to stay in Fiji
Likuliku Lagoon Resort (likulikulagoon.com) is on Malolo Island, a short boat hop from Nadi (or even shorter helicopter flight). Rooms start at about $1,600 per night.
How to get to Malolo Island
Fiji Airways flies direct to Nadi from all major Australian capitals except Perth, and has recently launched new A350-900 aircraft on the Sydney and Melbourne routes. The business class cabin has a Fijian-influenced menu and complimentary wi-fi. Business class passengers can access Qantas international business lounges in Australia, and the Premier Lounge at Nadi Airport; fijiairways.com/en-au
