This trip would be like no other.
I say that because there were many reasons for this adventure. But the most important one was that my long-term girlfriend and I had decided, a year earlier, to get married. We made the decision together while floating in the warm azure waters off a beautiful sandy beach in Thailand. Our close friends Phil and Zippy walked peacefully along that sandy beach. They were our hosts in that fabled land.
Our journey had intertwined us for twelve years, and it felt like it was time for us to surrender to something tremendously beautiful, spiritually revitalizing, and cemented in adventure.
That’s us.
Kevin and Josée.
We love adventure.
Let’s go back a little bit.
It all started with me pursuing an engagement ring. And the surprise proposal months after we had been in Thailand. But it was that trip that was really where things started moving in this direction. The moment we landed back in Ottawa from Thailand in 2025, I hit the ground running. I spent many hours going down many roads, literally and figuratively, trying to find the right engagement ring.
For our wedding, it only made sense that we would fly somewhere far away and get married on a beach beneath the brilliance of the sun, with the sounds of the ocean rolling in around us.
That’s what we dreamed of.
And we were going to do everything within our power to make it happen.
And so, a year after I proposed, we were on a plane.
6:00 p.m. straight out of Ottawa, stopping briefly in Vancouver before a twelve-hour flight across the ocean to the other side of this great pale blue dot we call Earth.
We would arrive in the early morning darkness in the magical and mystical land of Fiji.
We drove along the coast, a shuttle carrying us toward the Fiji Marriott, where we would spend our trip. Our hope was to get an early check-in.
Not only did we get that, but we were greeted with such warmth and kindness that it immediately set the tone for the entire trip.
We had booked an overwater bungalow, and it did not disappoint. Neither did the room. In fact, we liked it so much that we started talking about how we might someday replicate it ourselves. Well, maybe not completely ourselves. Perhaps with the help of a skilled tradesperson.
Our first day in Fiji was quite relaxed. We decided to take it easy and enjoy the resort.
Well, that’s not entirely true.
I discovered there was a CrossFit workout at 11 a.m., so naturally, I joined it.
I highly recommend exercise after a long journey. It helps with recovery from jet lag, and for me, there’s something about moving my body after sitting in an airplane for twelve hours that just makes me feel human again.
We walked around the resort, exploring and being curious about what it was made of. We found the people incredibly friendly.
You will often hear “Bula!” when you’re in Fiji. It’s a greeting, but it feels like more than that. There is warmth behind it.
Fiji has an interesting history. It was once a British colony and eventually became independent. One thing I really enjoyed was wandering through a shop at the resort that contained various Fijian cultural artifacts.
It was a small window into a much bigger story.
The next day, we took a boat trip out into the ocean.
The whole thing was incredibly well organized. We shared a table with a couple from the United States. I called them friends because, like most Americans I’ve met while travelling, they were friendly and easy to talk to.
We mostly avoided politics.
Instead, we talked about careers, travel, and kava.
Kava is the traditional drink of Fiji, used in ceremonies and social gatherings. Drink enough of it and, apparently, you’re going to feel pretty good.
Our American friends happened to be pharmacists. I found it fascinating that they were analyzing kava from a molecular perspective and discussing its effects on the body. They compared some of its effects to those associated with Xanax.
As someone who no longer consumes drugs, I wondered whether I should try the kava.
But let’s pause there.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
The ride out into the ocean was brilliant. Mountains rose in the background while the ocean stretched endlessly in front of us. Our captain steered the large boat toward an island sitting out in the middle of all that blue.
We were able to jump from the boat and snorkel in the surrounding waters before swimming toward the island.
The sand was golden. The sky was blue. It was exactly what you imagine when you picture Fiji. On the way back, we had a unique snorkeling experience. I say unique because we’ve snorkeled a lot over the years. As Josée and I swam toward the boat, we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by a massive school of black-and-silver striped fish. We were literally inside the school.
It was surreal.
Josée held out her hand, and one of the fish nipped at her fingers.
Apparently, there was no food there.
Back on the boat, we had a lovely meal. I also joined the many people who decided to dive from the boat into the ocean. It was a lot of fun. As we sailed back toward port, the entire Fijian crew began singing a beautiful song for us. It was majestic. Once we were back on land and commuting toward the resort, I noticed something interesting.
Random bushfires dotted the landscape. My initial thought was, “Where are the firefighters?” I eventually learned that these fires were generally left to burn themselves out rather than being actively managed. Pretty intense stuff when there are houses scattered throughout the landscape.
Another thing I noticed on the way home was rugby. I think every kid in Fiji plays rugby. Okay, maybe not every kid. But it certainly seemed that way. Fiji has won two Olympic gold medals in rugby, and watching some of the men around the country, I could understand why. Many of them were built like they could simply be classified as immovable objects on a rugby pitch.
The next day, we set out for Malamala Beach Club. Months earlier, I had booked us a gazebo right beside the ocean. It was a cold and windy day. Yes. Cold. In Fiji? But we made the best of it. Our waiter, Saki, was a lot of fun. We ordered food, enjoyed some cold drinks, and eventually walked around the entire island.
The next day was another relaxing one.
We planned to chill at the resort, enjoy the sandy beaches, eat good food, and generally do very little. We succeeded. Mostly. We did, however, have one important task.
Our celebrant drove us into the city of Nadi to a government office. There, we signed the official paperwork that would allow us to legally get married on the beach a few days later.
The process of getting married in a foreign country is not exactly simple. There are documents. There are forms. There are signatures. There are probably forms explaining the forms. We did our best to complete every required step. And when it was finally done, we both took a big, deep breath. The legal part was finished.
Everything else could fall into place.
The next day was another chill day.
Beach.
Food.
Relaxing.
And then came the wedding day.
I left our resort so Josée could have the room to herself. We had worked together throughout the whole process, so I had not seen her dress. There were moments when keeping it all organized was complicated, but somehow we made it work. She would have her hair and makeup done while I headed to another resort where we would be married. I got to speak with our celebrant, who was lovely. I always like doing this when I travel. I like talking to people who actually live in the places I visit and hearing their perspectives. At one point, I asked her about her cultural history. One of the questions I particularly enjoyed asking was how she felt about British colonization. She kindly told me that she felt it had been a good thing. “It brought us out of cannibalism,” she said.
Fair enough.
I checked into the resort and was eventually driven down to the beach, where the magic was about to happen. I’m sure most people who get married outside worry about one thing above all others.
The weather.
As I stood waiting on the beach for my fiancé to arrive, I looked up at the sky.
Crisp blue.
Not a cloud.
The waves crashed far off on the reef.
The sand sparkled beneath my feet like gold.
The celebrant’s son sat behind me, gently playing a guitar.
Then, suddenly, a calm and peaceful voice began singing our wedding song.
I thought that was beautiful. It is a beautiful song. 1,000 years.
I thought Josée had shared the song with the celebrant, assuming they might incorporate it into the ceremony. Later, I learned something that made the moment even more magical. She had never told them that was our song. He had simply started playing it. Maybe it was coincidence. It’s an old song. Perhaps it was buried somewhere in his past. But not on that day. For him to pull it out and sing it on that beach while I stood there waiting for my bride felt like something more.
It felt magical.
I waited for a long time. And that was okay. I sank into the moment. I welcomed the heat of the sun on my face. I let myself feel the excitement.
Then Josée arrived.
I was standing down on the beach with my back turned toward her, facing out toward the ocean.
The celebrant gave me a gentle nudge. That was my cue to turn around. When I did, I saw my beautiful bride. She walked slowly toward me in her stunning dress. Her hair was woven into a beautiful piece of art. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. And I felt something I had never felt before.
Something deep.
Something perhaps spiritual.
We said our vows to each other, both of us unable to hold back the tears.
Apparently, it was contagious. Our celebrant started crying too.
We signed the legal documents. We cemented the union with a kiss.
And then we strolled along the beach, through the forest line, and out onto the road beneath the palm trees.
Husband and wife.
Just like that.
Later that night, we did something pretty damn cool. We took a metal boat out into the ocean with a group of other people. Our destination was Robinson Crusoe Island. There, we experienced a full Fijian cultural celebration. Fire swords being thrown through the air. Food cooked underground. Singing. Dancing. A kava ceremony.
Yes. I tried it.
And, of course, a brilliant sunset. It was a unique and exciting way to celebrate our first meal together as husband and wife. The next morning, we relaxed at the resort before returning to our original resort. The following day, we surfed a shallow reef with our guide, Geoffrey, from Fiji Surf School. It turns out my bride is quite the surfer chick. She seemed to get up on almost every wave she caught.
Me? Not so much. I fell quite a bit. Rusty, so to speak. That’s not the same as being good. I did catch some waves, though. It was a playful day, and we both had fun. On our final day, I rented a jet ski.
Josée stayed back at the resort and relaxed. It was me, the guide, and a young couple riding tandem. This would be my first time on a jet ski. I loved every minute of it. I loved cruising out into the ocean at speeds approaching 70 kilometers per hour. I loved when our guide said, “Look, I’m not supposed to do this, but I’m going to take you out to the sandbar.” I loved that our guide was buddy-buddy with the captain of a boat out on the water. They even gave us pizza while we were out there. At one point, they threw some water bottles into the ocean, and I had to tactfully maneuver the jet ski around to pick one up as it floated in the water. We passed the tower they had built for upcoming surfing competitions at Cloud Break, a world-class left-side reef surf break located in the turquoise waters of Fiji’s Mamanuca Islands.
In the distance, I could hear the waves crashing along the reef—the Fijian guardian against the tsunami. Originally, I had wanted to surf out beyond the reef. But I decided not to. There were two reasons. First, I’m rusty when it comes to reef surfing, and deep water can be challenging. Second, I wanted the gentler waves near the shoreline where we had been surfing because Josée is still a beginner. Surfing water is not always gentle water. If the waves are big enough, they will smash you. And they will smash you hard. I didn’t want her to be subjected to that.
Of course, we’ll go back to Fiji. And perhaps next time I’ll head out beyond the reef with a guide on my own. As long as things are not too sizey. To go out in that would be…unwise. But not before I make a few regular trips down to Panama to surf with my good friend who now lives there.
And so, our trip came to an end. I will miss the sound of the shell echoing across the resort when the torches were being lit. I will miss the people. I will miss their kindness. And I will also miss the sense that, deep down inside, these people are warriors.
Fijians have hard lives. It is a developing country, and COVID absolutely smashed its main source of revenue: tourism.
I learned from one of our taxi drivers that life had been incredibly difficult for many Fijians during the pandemic. It made me realize that I will never have much to complain about when it comes to how we navigated COVID in Canada.
And most of all, I will miss the song.
On our final night, Josée and I showed up at the restaurant early without a reservation. We told them we were leaving that night, and they kindly let us in.
We had the place almost entirely to ourselves.
Then came the song.
Isa Lei.
The Fijian farewell.
It brought us to tears then and now as I write this and think about it.
It was beautiful.
It was sad.
It was perfect.
Thank you, Fiji, for making our wedding magical.
We’ll see you again.