Mana Island is sparkling like a Vegas showgirl out on the Fijian horizon but, like her name, she's more of a serene spirit than sultry seductress.

From my perch on neighbouring Castaway Island, I am listening to a group of guitarists croon Hotel California, nodding in agreement with the palm trees that this South Pacific destination is one in which you may be able to check out, but you can never really leave. And I am not alone in my thoughts.

Earlier on this most delicious of days I cradled a sweet mojito while speaking with three staff members who