Fantasy island
Yvonne van Dongen.
Idon’t know what to say about Vomo Island, I really don’t. I mean a story needs conflict, things need to happen, preferably some of them bad, or at least weird or funny. But it’s not like that at Vomo. Vomo is all about perfection. Vomo is perfection. Vomo is all your tropical island fantasies come true and then gold-plated.
‘‘This is the real Fiji,’’ one of the guests said with a sigh. I was tempted to say, ‘‘No darling, the real Fiji is a poor scrappy village,’’ but I didn’t have the heart. Not at Vomo. She meant it’s not like the big resorts on the main island and she’s right there, thank God. Everyone is beautiful at Vomo, even you for the time you’re there. And there’s not many of you.
Vomo is 32 villas on a 103-hectare island between the Yasawa and Mamanuca islands. It costs lots to get here and even more to stay but, let me tell you, if you can afford it it’s worth every penny.
So back to the tropical island fantasy.
It starts like this: helicoptering in. That’s how most of the guests arrive. Me? I came by seaplane, left by boat. All good, just timeconsuming but let’s face it, I’m a writer. My time isn’t that valuable.
Then a welcome song by staff, beautiful voices all harmonising by people you later see carrying your appalling underwear to the free laundry service.
Then there’s a welcome drink and those staff saying ‘‘Welcome Home’’ to you now and for most of the first day or so, which is so much cheese you’d normally gag except you’re at Vomo and it’s true. Everyone knows your name straight away.
‘‘Hello Yvonne,’’ says the gardener clipping the hibiscus as you walk to your bure. At home you’d think this creepy. Now it’s just grand.
Then to the days. They start like this: falling out of bed into the sea shushing just beyond your designer bure, then lolloping lazily to the restaurant fronting the huge pool which is actually too warm, thanks to the hot sun (hey, a bad thing!). You then select an absurd amount of food from the cool room, which is like a walk-in fridge (you consider staying there all day) and then choose something from the menu as well because you can (maybe another bad thing, though delicious at the time), then chat to some other guests and look at your watch and say ‘‘Help, is that the time?’’ because you’ve got snorkelling at 11 and you slept in.
Snorkelling means going out in a boat with some strapping staff and then pootling around a nearby reef nobody but Vomo-ites visit.
The reef is all autumnal tones with the occasional day-glo pink, blue or purple tips and the coral looks variously like cacti, antlers, plates and brains. Stripes are big in the fish world and it’s always a pleasure to see those tiny electric blue swimmers that turn up on every tropical reef.
Then, with your face still bearing snorkel mask marks, you make your way to lunch. You’ve earned it. Plus, as the Fijians say, the more you eat, the better you float. You plan to snorkel daily.
A three-course lunch. Hmmm... should you have the pineapple gazpacho starter followed by quinoa crumbed chicken schnitzel with tarragon butter, beans and tomato salad or the grilled prawn salad? The vege wrap or the char-grilled steak? Stressful. Should you have dessert? Not even a question. Course you should. It’s part of the Vomo deal. All the food and activities you can eat and you are now officially greedy.
If only you didn’t want to sleep so much. Relaxing does that to you. We remark on it to one another, us lucky Vomo-ites.
How weary we all feel, how deliciously, sensuously weary because for once in our successful busy lives we can give in to that sensation and oh, it’s nice. Though there is that massage you booked earlier with a hearty Balinese masseuse who says your shoulders are so tight she needs at least three hours pulverising the built-up tension that sits like a massive rock under your skin and must be ground by her knuckles into pebbles. What the? This is upselling, surely. You go to yoga regularly. Why, you’re practically a yogini! You can slow your heart rate down to practically monk level. You adore Savasana (aka the corpse yoga pose). Could lie there for hours. And as for alternate nostril breathing, you nailed that first go. So why does her deep tissue massage hurt so bloody much?
That was gruelling. You need a lie down. Maybe a bath. Yes a bath with L’Occitane products. In one of those big egg-shaped baths that take ages to fill, with a plug in the middle that your bottom keeps loosening accidentally. More water. All of it desalinated. No spring on this island. Dry as hell, really. Hardly any rain. Perfect for a resort. Guaranteed good weather. Still it does mean there’s nothing eco about Vomo. Not one thing. The marketing manager told you that and you could have hugged her. After all the usual blather about recycling and ecothis and sustainable that in an industry built on burning massive amounts of fossil fuel to get here, it’s refreshing. Why pretend? Most of the food is flown in from New Zealand, which is why it’s so good and the chap who started Vomo is a Kiwi, too (though there are other Aussie investors now). Another reason it’s so good.
There’s a distinct Kiwi flavour to Vomo. A chill, very cool, understated quality. No ra-ra, bada-boom bling. No big-noting as far as you can tell. It’s why Vomo has an 80 per cent return rate. Eighty per cent! Unheard of in high-end resorts. I wonder briefly if I’ll be one of them.
You do nothing for the rest of the day except straggle over to dinner when the time comes. You marvel that you can move your arms and legs by yourself.
The days pass in a pleasurable blur marked only by different destinations for drinks and nightly entertainment. Again, the staff reveal their true talents as singers and dancers and we all drink kava which should be supplied at every dental clinic in the land.
A family from Christchurch have enjoyed their week so much they decide, on a whim, to add on another week. Hearing this, you are assailed by one of the seven deadly sins. Envy. Though sloth isn’t probably far away, either.
The day I leave I decide to finally visit the yoga platform about 1.5km away. It’s hot, it’s uphill, it’s a stupid idea, my shoulders tense up, I’m late for the shuttle to the boat, I forget my passport and a staff member has to come running up, bearing it aloft like a trophy. PHOTOS: VOMO ISLAND, FIJI
FACT FILE
: More information: vomofiji.com; fiji.travel : Staying there: Vomo Island is set on its own private island just 15 minutes by seaplane or helicopter from Nadi International Airport. Meals included. There’s plenty to do – 9-hole golf course, tennis, climb Mt Vomo, gym, Kui Spa – plus complimentary water sports likes SUP, kayaks, hobie cats, windsurfing, snorkelling. Kids Village comes complete with their own chef! The Hillside Villa for two costs FJD$2375 (NZ$1601) per night based on a stay-five-nights/pay-fournights’ package. : Doing there: New Zealand chefrestaurateur Nic Watt, a grand French Champagne house and exquisite New Zealand wines, are all coming together at Vomo Island for an exciting culinary event between May 24-28. The five days will be filled with degustation dinners, wine tastings, long lunches and sundowner events accompanied by wines from Mason Billecart-Salmon Champagne and the premier New Zealand wine distributor, Dhall and Nash. FJD$1250 per person.
Red-faced and panting and cross at having to leave, by the time I scramble off the tender and on to the cruising ferry, my shoulders are up around my ears. In other words, I’m ready to go home. ● The writer was a guest of Tourism Fiji and Vomo Island.