En route to Suva for work, I spent last weekend in Denerau, that hermetically sealed, perfectly coiffed corner of Fiji that isn't really Fiji at all. It was writhing with screaming small children and guilty dads competing for the Quality Time Award.
What was I thinking? It was school holidays. Of course every man, woman, and their tiny offspring would be making a beeline for the same 2.5km stretch of 'island' so they could fight over deckchairs before the sun was even up, run around, scream, giggle every time somebody said 'Bula', and drink colourful substances with fruit and flowers sticking out the top. And that was just the grown ups.