As far as statements of intent go, it doesn’t get any grander or more opulent than the Boat Tail. Having been sent the pre reveal press literature, I have spent an almost alarming time since, perusing over every detail, over every curve, every fixture, every decision taken, every whim that was answered.
Above me, a giant teardrop-shaped chandelier hangs from the 100-foot high ceiling. Fairy-tale beanstalk leaves sprout from behind the reception desk, a link to the Laconian princess Carya, who was turned into a walnut tree by her father, Dionysus.
It’s raining. What’s Plan B, Barry? “There is no Plan B.” Other than ‘the bride’s done a runner’, these are the last words you want to hear on your wedding day. But here we are: Taveuni Palms, north east Fiji, hoary clouds sagging low in the sky, and a tangible unease as we quaff champagne and smoke cigarettes, praying for the sound of patter to dissipate. We’d arrived the day before, landing at Matei Airport, which more closely resembles a wooden shack, where one man sits, glances at your passport and waves you through with a resounding ‘bula’. Colleen, one half of the husband-and-wife team who manage Taveuni Palms, is…
The sound of choral singing skips like sunlight across the sea as we approach Likuliku. The staff are out to greet us, stood on the edge of the long wooden pier, dressed in traditional garb of sulus and bark-made warrior skirts, with guitars strumming to the echo of the ocean. I can taste the water spraying in my face as our boat speeds toward the resort. As their carol gets louder, the joy is palpable; a welcome as warm as the climate. We didn’t know it yet, but this type of reception is typical in Fiji: serenaded on arrival, gifted with a traditional seashell garland, and showered with cocktails. Typical,…