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"Are you sure it’s safe?” I asked, taking in the scenery. All around me, the valley overflowed with lush vegetation. As far as the eye could see, plants ruled the land. This was their kingdom. And we were trespassing. “Safe? Yes! Safe!” The response came from ahead. Suli was my guide through this jungle realm, leading me through hidden pathways and over broken fences. All whilst bear-foot. Just eight years old, Suli was wise beyond his years. He knew so many tricks and secrets about his homeland — and he wanted to share all of them with me before I returned home. Just the day before he had shown me how to prepare fish lolo, a local dish of fish soaked in coconut milk. Earlier that day we had climbed coconut trees for that same milk. It made me sombre. Back at home, I knew most kids would be glued to their phones or TV screens. But not here, not in Fiji. On these islands, the children played in rolling, grassy plains and helped farm the land for the food they would eat that night. They played, they worked, but they always smiled. The valley sides were getting steeper as we crept on. I felt the ground shift under my weight and I could feel myself begin to slip. Suli reached a hand out and stopped me from falling. Saved from the mud, I thought. Not that it mattered. I was already coated in a thick layer of the stuff which, under the scorching Pacific sun, had already begun to solidify, wrapping me in a brown cocoon. “Very close now. Keep going?” There was no turning back now, I knew. I could hear we were close, there was crashing beyond. I could feel the adrenaline building and an urge to climb faster, to get muddier, to keep going. “Keep going.” I nodded. Suli smiled. I had learned so much from him about life in Naqali village. This small, isolated place on the edge of my world was at the centre of his. England was some distant place, somewhere far, far away — right at the edge of his map. The village was the capital of Suli’s world and it was beginning to feel like home for me too. The crashing sound was getting louder now and the trees were clearing, submitting to the more powerful force. Overhead, some colourful birds were circling. Deep burgundies and glowing yellows they were bursts of colour against the bright blue sky above and the green jungle realm below. Suli stopped suddenly and gestured for me to go on. Reluctant to walk on without his guidance, I stopped too. “We’re here. You won’t slip. I promise.” The words reassured me, the grin did not. I sighed and carried on cautiously ahead of him. The ground might betray me at any moment and I could fall into a bed of green spikes. Or worse. And then I saw it, what we had been climbing for. It was worth it. Just ahead, the trees had cleared and I found myself in the middle of a great canyon. The valley sides were almost vertical opposite and there was the source of the crashing — now louder than ever. The valley was a magnificent sculpture and here was its carpenter, revealed at last. The waterfall was the largest I had ever seen. Rainbows sprouted from its centre, a meeting between the blue water and the scorching sun. Gallons of water was hurled from its ledge. And right below me was the plunge pool. Bigger than a swimming pool and deeper than — Before I had the chance to look, Suli had already pushed me into the pool. The splash I made was silenced, drowned by the sounds of the waterfall beyond. When I emerged, Suli was laughing. “And what was that for?” I asked, catching my breath and trying to hide my amusement. “You needed a wash!” He was right. The water had removed most of the mud which had encased me for much of the hike. Not that it would last, the journey back was just as muddy and just as tiring. But just as worth it.