Deep Travel in Fiji
Fleas, flax and fried bread.
With “deep travel” you foster a deeper connection to the places you visit. You access the authenticity of a place.
Some of the travel experiences that have connected with my soul in the most meaningful way are the homestays — time spent with families spending day-to-day life in their homes.
Shared rooms and meals, bucket showers, home cooking, traditional craftwork, shared laughter, and sharing of the mundane moments too.
You may experience an entire household putting your comfort above theirs, presenting you with their signature dishes, and making room for you in their lives for a moment. Conversely, in your own way, you do your best to fit into their lifestyle and daily routine, with enthusiasm and openness.
Don’t expect fairytales. You’ll see the good, the bad, the awkward, the generosity, the bickering, the reality. Politeness (as a bare minimum) tends to maintain the social equilibrium, the friendly relations, even if there’s a language barrier.
I stayed at an Airbnb run by a lady called Priscilla for my first night in Fiji. Fortunately her family’s kindness and local knowledge helped me acquire a kava (Piper methysticum) root. I needed this to give to the village chief when I arrived on the island the following day.
As a notoriously terrible gift-giver I appreciated being told exactly what to bring. Like most people, I don’t like turning up empty handed.
Priscilla’s husband drove me to a nearby neighborhood where scavenging dogs roamed the streets. I was told by him emphatically to stay in the car while he went and requested some kava root. He came back to the car and we waited.
Through the open car window someone thrust a hefty kava root, wrapped in newspaper like fish and chips. For 30 dollars I had the goods!
The next day, the kava and I traveled to the small island where my homestay family awaited.
When I first arrived, a meal was being prepared. Actually, meal preparation happened almost continuously throughout the day. As we did introductions, I sat on the kitchen floor next to one of the sisters, and took over her task of grating pawpaw into a large bowl.
As a family of nine, there was a lot of grating to be done. The firmer papaya were often used in curry dishes, while the riper ones were savoured at breakfast, raw and juicy.
At least one meal each day had a fried bread-type dish. A flour based ball, log, or roti (flatbread) was fried, or boiled in water. Sometimes it was drenched in sweetened coconut milk for a dessert.
I gobbled it all up. Even the instant noodles with anchovies went down a treat.
As a single parent, having someone place a thoughtfully made, warm meal in front of me - three times a day! — made it feel like a true holiday.
Each meal was preceded by a prayer, a blessing for the food.
I was given a bedroom to myself, while 4–7 family members slept on mattresses in the lounge just outside my bedroom door. The kitten was a slight fleabag, which posed a satisfying outlet for my obsessive compulsive tendencies. I think by the time I left she was flea-free.
I’m a travel nerd in that I research a destination’s history, food, and traditions, to at least a small degree. I always learn a few phrases — the greetings and thank yous, for example. It adds a bit more depth to the experience. Also, being a sensitive person, I want to avoid the embarrassment of offending anyone by being oblivious of cultural norms and expectations e.g. no bikini-wearing on Naviti’s village beaches. Another example was presenting kava root to the village chief. It’s a must. A French couple turned up to their homestay empty-handed, and we were able to share some of the generous kava root that I’d obtained, before our village meeting with the chief.
The chief chatted with each homestay visitor. He seemed surprised that I was travelling his country on my own. He told me I was brave. The local schoolboys gathered around and asked me my age. “Ooh, 44, wow…do you have a daughter?”
Tip: Leave gaps in your itinerary — an afternoon with nothing to do but chat with people, or reflect in your own company. When you’re there, talk with locals, ask questions and listen to what they have to say.
When mentioning politics, my host family seemed proud of their incumbent prime minister. The military-backed government that had been in power since the 2006 coup had been defeated at the polls eight months before I visited. Fiji signed on to China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) only five years ago. China continues to act as a major partner for the funding and construction of Fiji’s roads, as well as a major local employer.
During my stay I met holidaymakers from France, Germany, and the US, although the Australian and New Zealand markets make up around 65 percent of Fiji’s annual visitors.
The local children and I had fun teaching each other to count to ten — mine in Te Reo Māori and the kids in Fijian — particularly once we realised how closely related the two languages are.
Connection happened in ordinary moments. Throwing a rugby ball with rambunctious Sila for almost an hour (I was so tired by the end!) and playing board-games at the dining room table were simple activities that still make me smile to remember.
They’d been gifted a Hangman game with plastic letters and a plastic skeleton. “QUEENLISA” was one word set by my precious new 12-year-old friend, Bale.
Tip: Cash is still king in Fiji. For my 2023 trip, I had to pay for the ferry ride and the homestay with cash. Hotels and shops on the mainland are a different story; they accept the usual payment options.
The homestay charged a daily rate of $70 Fijian dollars, approximately $30 USD or $50 NZD. This included three very satisfying, if basic, meals each day.
It’s clearly about experience not luxury, but it’s undeniably a holiday, a relaxing break from routine. You have views like this at your front doorstep every day:
My tourism dollars went directly to the homestay, the ferry service, and the local shop, ensuring the local community benefited from my stay.
The church was very important in my homestay family’s life, so I made a donation while attending their Sunday service.
I bought two handmade wrap-skirts (one pink, one purple with gold trim) that the mother whipped up for me while seated on the living-room floor with her sewing machine. She also crafted beautiful hand-woven mats from Pandanus leaves.
The value that comes from a homestay is economic, it’s socially satisfying, and rich in responsible tourism. You’re naturally encouraged to be more mindful of your environmental impact than if you were in a hotel.
More and more of us are considering the impact our travels have, not just on ourselves but on the community and people that we visit. That mindfulness doesn’t have to lessen the pleasure we can get from our adventures.
