Savusavu is an interesting place. An insanely beautiful place, too.
I know I say this about almost everywhere I’ve been in Fiji so far, but I already decided I need to return to Savusavu in order to spend true quality time there. Twenty four hours was not nearly enough in “the hidden paradise of Fiji” to uncover all its hidden gems!
Let’s start at the beginning of the story: Saturday morning, it took every ounce of energy in me to force my disoriented self out of bed following a week of feverish sickness, before inhaling a bowl of sugar-drenched cornflakes and groggily making my way from the house down the pothole-ridden dirt road to the nearby bus stop, where I then caught a local bus to the main bus terminal in Labasa. The bus to Savusavu was apparently scheduled for 9:30 am, so I, sometimes being the over-planner that I am, boarded the bus the moment the doors opened in earnest attempts to grab a “good seat”.
Unlike the assorted bus options I’ve written about on Viti Levu, there’s really only one type of bus available on Vanua Levu: and you can bet it’s open air, musty, and un-air conditioned.
I enjoyed a row to myself on the sticky schoolbus-esque seats for approximately a third of the way to Savusavu, but for the majority of the two and a half-hour trip, the bus was overloaded probably three times its recommended capacity. That made it quite difficult to simply relax and admire the picturesque, oddly alpine-like scenery along the route, which twisted and turned, ascended and descended over Vanua Levu’s jagged mountain peaks, for the most part cutting straight through the middle of the island as opposed to its parameter.
Albeit a gorgeous journey, I arrived in Savusavu sweaty, dehydrated, starving and slightly on-edge, not to mention completely dizzied by overstimulating panoramic views of the marina and bay, teeming with yachts and sailboats gliding across the smooth, shimmering water. It was overcast, but the sun still beat down heavily. I sincerely hoped I’d remembered to douse myself with sunscreen earlier that day.
I quickly realized I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing.
One major thing I wish I’d done differently on this excursion (and this is always tricky): I wish I hadn’t sought accommodations for the night in advance.
I’d made a dodgy room arrangement at a place called the “Gecko Lodge,” a seedy motel more than 3 kilometers from town, which I mistakenly reserved online via Booking.com the night beforehand (since one of my biggest fears while traveling is not having a place to sleep when I get to my destination). In this case, and especially because it was just one night, I absolutely should have taken my chances finding good accommodations upon my arrival. I digress…
Gecko Lodge did have very nice landscaping, and I do appreciate nice landscaping. I also appreciate a bed larger than twin-sized and a good air conditioning system. However, what I don’t appreciate is a cash-only payment system, particularly when all ATM machines in town aren’t functioning (typically indicating they’re out of cash; not an uncommon occurrence in the Fiji Islands).
On top of that, the Gecko Lodge manager for some reason thought it necessary to make special note of the laundry list of “resort rules” outlined on a faded laminated sheet taped to the wall, promptly inducing dreadful flashbacks to my micro-managed teenage boarding school years.
To say the least, it was uncomfortable.
When the manager’s dining recommendations consisted of every sketch, dilapidated Chinese seafood den I passed during the walk there, I knew with certainty Gecko Lodge was not where I should be.
So, I hoisted my overstuffed Northface backpack, 2 unopened liters of bottled Fiji Water in tow, and trudged (or “backpacked,” I suppose) towards town once again, stopping at a Grace Road Kitchen café for a much-needed very berry smoothie and recharge (read my raving review of the Grace Road Kitchen here!).
I ultimately spent the night at the Savusavu Hot Springs Hotel, a place I’d recommend to anyone and everyone traveling to Savusavu – not only does every room boast a private balcony with glittering ocean view, it’s within easy walking distance of town, has a nice swimming pool deck, and really isn’t that much more expensive per night than Gecko Lodge. And they accept credit card payments!
Because I have to get those airline mileage points, duh…
As its name suggests, the Savusavu Hot Springs Hotel sits directly adjacent to the actual Savusavu hot springs, which to my surprise are not the type of hot springs I’m accustomed to (I pictured something similar to the giant hot springs swimming pool like they have in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, although they did have a medical hot springs spa close by).
You could literally boil something, cook your dinner, or cause some serious bodily harm in these hot springs (which are totally open to the public, by the way). Just take a look at the warning sign:
I’ll admit, overall, this trip was poorly planned and I barely researched the region enough ahead of time (was kind of a sporadic adventure). I later found out Savusavu offers a fantastic beach area (home to its renowned diving and snorkeling opportunities, I’m sure), which is evidently located on the exact opposite end of town I spent my day exploring.
Oh well. Next time.
Instead, I primarily hung out around the Copra Shed Marina, in part for the excellent pizza and utterly mesmerizing sunset, but also for an enjoyable break from the Savusavu’s semi-touristy riffraff (I love chatting with the locals – don’t get me wrong – but after a while it gets really boring explaining time after time no, I’m not with the Peace Corps; no, I don’t have children…).
As it turns out, Savusavu is a fairly popular spot for American ex-pats (among numerous Kiwis and Australians), attracted to the tiny seaside yachting town for its bounty of freehold land and reasonable prices, at least according to one resident American, whom I conversed with for five minutes by the washroom mirror; a woman presumably in her late forties or so.
“My husband and I bought a place in Savusavu for very cheap, in American standards,” she raved, “and the property value keeps going up and up and up!”
I asked if she found maintaining a life abroad in Fiji expensive. The woman laughed.
“Oh no, the American dollar goes so far here, which is great, you know, like being from California, we’re super materialistic.”
To that, I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at her rather withered khaki ensemble, but knew by that point in the evening my appearance, too, was likely a bit haphazard. Extensive island travel involving lots of wind does that, I guess.
The night consisted of a variety of fascinating discussions with travelers from all over the globe, many of which had arrived in Savusavu by boat. Hearing their incredible stories and diverse voyage plans reminded me I’m not at all alone in wanting to see the world. If anything, I’m terribly behind on adventures.
Honestly, it seems I have a tremendous obligation to take back entire years of my life.