From a bird’s eye view through the airplane window I caught sight of Vanuatu. The islands were ringed with the bright turquoise color that signifies coral reef. Surrounding these was the vast cobalt of the Southwest Pacific. As our plane touched down I saw lush green farms and tropical brush soaked in a yellow haze of twilight. We were now on the island of Efate, the seat of Port Vila, the nation’s capital. But we had come here to escape civilization so we took a taxi from the airport to the south coast, where a boat waited to take us to Hideaway Island.

From the opposite shore, Hideaway Island seemed woodsy and wild except for the pier. We thought we had the wrong place but when we arrived we saw that this was merely eco-tourism at work: Each wooden cabin was nestled between tall leafy trees, giving guests plenty of privacy and a sense of harmony with nature. Even the restaurant and bar blended in with the surroundings. The cabins themselves had everything you needed for comfort: a bed, fridge, bathroom, and a soft divan.

For us, Vanuatu’s main attraction was its coral reefs. At Hideaway Island we could slip into the water and immediately be greeted by a parrotfish as colorful as a Macaw. For hours, we would float safely above a dazzling underwater metropolis, full of psychedelic monsters chomping on coral or wriggling in nooks. Diving tours left the island daily in search of far-off reefs and overgrown shipwrecks. As it was, we found plenty to wonder only a few meters away from our door. In between snorkeling sessions we read, sunbathed, sipped drinks at the bar, lay in the hammock beside our hut and let the trade winds cool our sun-warmed bodies.

Since Port Vila was only a short distance away, we decided to make a day trip. Once on shore at Efate we hailed a mini-bus and shared the ride into town with some Melanesian school children, who were speaking French. France used to occupy Vanuatu in a condominium (dual government) with Britain, and it was not until 1980 that the indigenous Ni-Vanuatu gained independence. In Port Vila the French influence is still noticeable: Many people speak French, there are good French bakeries and patisseries and you can even buy French fashions at Port Vila’s main shopping complex.

Apart from the croissants, however, Port Vila was generally hot and disappointing. The museum was depressing, displaying mainly bad art and dusty stuffed animals. The Japanese restaurant we visited was overpriced, though the fish was fresh and mouth-watering. The city’s main attraction was the big open-air market, where it was possible to buy scarves, toys, bowls, fruit and vegetables. There we bought a strange melon-like fruit with hard black seeds whose white flesh tasted like lemon sorbet. In spite of these culinary pleasures, we were glad to head back to Hideaway Island and put up our feet.

When the time came for us to leave Vanuatu we had done very little: A lazy way of life is a large part of island charm! Even so, if we had been in a more adventurous mood it would have been possible to explore the wilder islands, to visit tribes and observe their customs, or to stand on the cone of a live volcano. But if we return, as we want to, we’ll be very happy just swimming with the parrotfish and swinging in a hammock. •

If you go by plane:

The only way to get to Vanuatu is by airplane. There are no direct flights from Moscow so contact a travel agency to find out more information.

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