The different faces of Fiji
Suva's welcome is less than salubrious. Along the three-hour drive from Nadi to the capital, poverty-stricken villages dot the route, providing the perfect foil to the luxurious resorts with which they are interspersed.
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Several kilometres from the city centre, shortly after the "Ni Sa Bula - Welcome to Fiji" sign, you encounter the town dump. A few minutes later you pass Suva's prison in all its barbaric, abundant barbed wire glory.
Welcome to Suva indeed.
Despite Suva's recent political turmoil, it remains the South Pacific's most cosmopolitan city. Its population of around 100,000 is primarily made up of indigenous Fijians, but it has a large Indian community, as well as many Chinese and Europeans.
I saw little visible evidence of the acrimony between Fijians and Indians that blazed across our television screens after George Speight's coup. Malnourished looking Indians begging along Suva's main thoroughfares were the only signs of past strife, and I was intrigued to see that the first passers-by to offer a few coins were the Fijians themselves.
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If the guilt hasn't dampened your appetite, then Suva boasts some of the best food in Fiji. For cheap, vegetarian Indian food you can't go past the Hare Krishna cafes on Pratt and Cumming Streets.
For delicious, well-cooked and reasonably priced European fare, you can't beat the Bad Dog Café. I was back the next day for the happy hour $2 sangrias and $4 coconut margaritas. And if you can squeeze it in, the chocolate and walnut pie is worth the calories.
If you're looking for something a little more intimate, Tiko's floating restaurant is reminiscent of the Love Boat, complete with an Issac look-alike behind the bar. This relic from the set of the first Blue Lagoon film, specializes in seafood. You could probably find better and cheaper food elsewhere, but Tiko's is worth it for the atmosphere.
A word of warning, the swaying motion isn't in your head (although it may be if you've had one too many Fiji Bitters). This floating restaurant is the real thing and you'll find yourself bobbing up and down with every passing vessel.
Suva's biggest drawback is the rain. With an average annual rainfall of 3000mm, it is no great surprise it rains like clockwork every afternoon at 2.30. When it's not raining it's stinking hot and muggy.
Duty free shops abound, but beware the prices, which aren't vastly different to New Zealand. Most of the customers seem more attracted by the air conditioning than the promise of bargains.
When you've soaked up enough of Suva's spicy squalor, and if your budget stretches to it, I can highly recommend treating yourself to a few days recuperation at the sumptuous Sheraton Denarau Villas. Just 20 minutes from Nadi Airport, it's handy for catching your return flight home.
The villas are nestled between the Sheraton Fiji and the Sheraton Royal Denarau. Guests enjoy the use of all of the facilities, as well as having the advantage of their own kitchens and living areas, and the use of what is arguably the most stylish pool on the island. Complete with artificial beach, a vanishing edge, and pool bar, I easily whiled away entire days by its side.
Disconcertedly, but perhaps aptly named The Wet Edge, the pool bar serves an impressive selection of cocktails from 10am to 6pm. But I caution you to think twice before venturing forth into it after mid-afternoon.
I was curious to observe a group of barflies who took up residence on the submerged bar stools around 11am and proceeded to imbibe until closure. I'm loath to say it, but I didn't see any of them get out of the pool to relieve themselves at the nearby toilets. Presumably they feared losing their prime positions. Needless to say the water got decidedly soupy - with the odd maraschino cherry and cocktail umbrella floating by.
At $100 a pop, and not being a golfer myself, a round of golf seems a bit steep. But avid fans of the sport have assured me the greens are world-class and the golf is worth every cent.
On your final night book a table at Port-O-Call. Most of the dining at the resort is of the soggy smorgasbord and bland buffet genre, but Port-O-Call is one of those rare restaurants where the food isn't the main event and you don't even care. From the moment you arrive and the tuxedoed maitre d' greets you with a frangipani to tuck behind your ear, you know this is an old-fashioned silver-service sort of establishment.
After you are seated with great flourish in your velvet booth, you are treated to a complimentary amuse-gueule. In between courses there are sorbets and at the meal's end, they bring around a chocolate liqueur tree. It's worth ordering the crepes suzette, just for the theatrical flambéing that ensues.
But the real delight is the waiters who break into song at the drop of a hat. In beautiful deep harmony they serenade tables for birthdays, anniversaries and farewells. It's tempting to fib and tell them it's your birthday, your anniversary and your last night in Fiji just so they'll sing to you again and again.
