Taveuni Island, Fiji

The first thing one notices when approaching Taveuni Island is the great, green hills. And it’s them that I have my sights set on; I’ve come to Taveuni to explore the interior rainforest and to take a look at some of the incredible flora that it has to offer.

Though the rainforest is beautiful, hiking through it is often a sweaty, uncomfortable, insect-ridden experience. I follow our guide as she parses through the undergrowth, clambers over the snaking roots and fallen trunks of trees, hops over large, flat stones to cross a stream. We walk and walk, and though after a while the bright green forest seems to blend into itself, our guide knows every nook and cranny, every tree, every fern, every flower, every birdcall. Her knowledge turning the jungle into a huge living museum.

First, she points out the towering tree ferns, some 30ft (10m) high. I’m not used to seeing ferns this big, and they cut a brilliant figure, standing tall and proud. These trees are truly ancient; in fact, they are living fossils. They are descended from the fern trees that used to cloak the southern portions of the Earth when Asia, Australia and much of the Pacific were one great landmass called Gondwana. Due to their isolated position, Fiji and other South Pacific islands have preserved many of the prehistoric plants of this lost continent, where in other places they’ve died out.

I begin to notice that the forest is full of orchids. These beautiful, epiphytic flowers garland many of the mossy trees in Taveuni, thriving in the warm tropical rainforest. They express the entire range of colours, from soft whites to regal purples to brilliant red, their petals wreathed with intricate patterns.

We arrive at Lake Tagimoucia, our journey’s destination, and home to the Tagimoucia flower. This is Fiji’s most famous endemic flower, found nowhere else in the world. It’s beautiful, snowdrop white and bright crimson petals hang delicately from a long, curved stem, the flowers attracting the rainforest’s butterflies, little flying petals themselves.

We set up camp near the lake, mist shrouds the nearby hills, and the waters reflect the bronze of the setting sun. As the fire begins to crackle, we hear the story of the Princess and the Tagimoucia flower:

Long ago on Taveuni, there lived a beautiful Princess. She grew up in a time of war, for her tribe, the Somosomo, was fighting the Qamea, and had been for many years. One day, after a particularly ferocious battle, the Princess met a brave and handsome Qamea warrior who had been separated from his troupe and wandered into Somosomo territory. As their eyes locked, the two fell instantly into a forbidden love.

Though all the laws of the tribe and war forbade their affair, the two braved death and banishment just to meet for a few precious hours. The warrior crossed rushing rivers, fought off crocodiles and dodged the men of the Somosomo just to catch a glimpse of his love through the gates of her village, or to spend a few hours in her arms in a secluded clearing. The Princess risked the deadly wrath of her father, dodged the patrols of his household guard and crept through the dark forest, full of bandits and serpents, just to lie on his chest and feel his heartbeat.

One day, the Warrior asked the Princess for her hand in marriage. And though she knew that, unless she forsook her gods, her tribe and her family, their love could never be, she followed her heart, agreeing to be his bride.

But the war with the Qamea had no end in sight. The Princess’s Father decided to try to add the power of another tribe to his forces. This foreign tribe was led by a grizzled, old warlord, famous for his brutality and cruelty, but also the ferociousness of his soldiers. To seal the deal and destroy the Qamea forever, the princess was promised to the Warlord as his wife and condemned to spend the rest of her life serving him and his household. The princess protested and, in front of the whole tribe, declared her love for the brave Qamea warrior. Her furious, humiliated father sent assassins after the young man, and though the warrior fought his assailants bravely, he was overcome and killed.

For the princess, this was too much to bear, and she fled here, underneath the cloud-wreathed hills we are sitting under now. In fury and grief, she clawed and dug at the earth and cried bitter tears. It is said that the great hole she dug became Lake Tagimoucia, and her tears, as they fell to the ground, magically sprang to life as the Tagimoucia flowers, the bright red of the petals representing her lover’s shed blood, and the white the purity of their love.