Fiji

Eight Days, One Rental Car, and a Mountain We Had to Ask Permission to Climb

Dylan and I arrived in Fiji on November 1, 2024. It was supposed to be a one-day layover on our way to New Zealand.

Instead, we stayed eight days.

At the time, extending the trip felt casual—almost impulsive—but looking back, it was the moment the entire journey shifted. Fiji didn’t unfold the way we expected. It unfolded the way it wanted to.

First Impressions: This Wasn’t the Fiji We Imagined

After landing, we rented a car and drove straight to our hostel on the beach in Nadi. We unpacked, dropped our bags, and immediately walked down to the sand.

And then we paused.

Nadi is a port city. It’s busy. It’s working. It’s real. It’s not the untouched, postcard-perfect beach scene most people imagine when they think of Fiji. Standing there, we looked at each other thinking, Wait… this is it?

It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t what we expected.

So instead of forcing expectations onto the place, we decided to ask for help.

Letting Someone Else Build the Adventure

Back at the hostel, we talked to the woman at the front desk and admitted the truth—we didn’t really know what we were doing. We wanted to explore. We wanted adventure. We just didn’t know where to start.

She casually mapped out an itinerary that ended up shaping the entire trip:

• Two nights at a resort on the north side of the island

• A hike up Mount Tomanivi

• One night back in Nadi

• A ferry ride to the Yasawa Islands

• A few days at Octopus Resort

We followed it exactly—and it couldn’t have been better.

Poolside Conversations and an Unforgettable Night

One night in Nadi, we went out for drinks and met a few girls staying at our hostel. They had already been to Octopus Resort and couldn’t stop talking about how incredible it was.

We ended up sitting around the pool for hours, talking about travel, life, and where we’d all been—until a very drunk Fijian man wandered into the hostel, stripped down to his underwear, jumped into the pool, and joined the conversation like it was completely normal.

No one questioned it. We just kept talking.

It felt like a perfect introduction to the unpredictable magic of Fiji.

Driving Across Fiji for the First Time

The next morning, Dylan drove us halfway across the main island of Viti Levu. It was our first time driving on the left side of the road, and the beginning was chaotic—busy streets, aggressive traffic, constant awareness.

But once we hit the coastal highway, everything changed.

The road stretched endlessly along the ocean. The sky was completely clear. The water was deep turquoise, shimmering as if the sunlight was bouncing off the ocean floor. We passed through small villages, stopped at local restaurants, tried new food, and said Bula to anyone who looked our way.

Bula means hello—but it also feels like a way of life.

The Craziest Side Quest I’ve Ever Been On

At the resort, we asked a simple question: How do we climb Mount Tomanivi?

The answer wasn’t simple.

We were told that first we needed to drive to another town, find fresh kava root at the market, then drive deep inland to a remote village. There, we would present the kava to the village chief and ask for permission to climb the mountain next to his village.

No kava. No permission. No climb.

It felt unreal—but we were all in.

We found the kava root, drove hours inland on rough dirt roads, crossed streams, and eventually reached the village. The chief approached us holding a machete, calm but intimidating, and accepted the kava.

Permission granted.

Our guide took off up the mountain at a pace that felt impossible. There was no trail—just mud, rain, steep drop-offs, and dense jungle. He cut the path with his machete as we climbed. It was one of the hardest hikes I’ve ever done, not because of elevation, but because of how raw and uncontrolled it felt.

And then suddenly, we were at the top—the highest point in Fiji.

An Unexpected Peace Corps Encounter

After descending, we met the only other outsider in the village—a man in an orange safety vest raking leaves. He was from New Jersey and had been living there for a year with the Peace Corps.

When we asked what he did, he shrugged and said he pirated movies for the locals to give them something to do.

It was one of the most surreal conversations of the entire trip.

We thanked the chief, took photos, and began the long drive back to Nadi—five exhausting hours through the dark.

The Yasawa Islands and Slowing Everything Down

The next morning, we caught the ferry to the Yasawa Islands. Sunshine poured over the water as the mainland faded behind us.

At Octopus Resort, time slowed completely. We swam, walked the beach early in the mornings, talked with other travelers, and let ourselves unplug. We were there during the November 6, 2024 election, and being on a beach in Fiji felt infinitely better than being glued to the news.

Sometimes the best way to engage with the world is to step away from it.

Why Fiji Worked

Fiji wasn’t the version we expected—but it was better.

It asked us to slow down. To ask permission. To trust strangers. To take side quests without knowing the outcome.

And that’s exactly why it stayed with me.

I’d go back in a heartbeat.