The Fijians inject lots of fun into the serious business of sevens, writes photojournalist Steven McNicholl after an island trip.
Small boys shimmy up the trunks of coconut palms. Bigger boys climb the tallest trees. Groups of men watch from neighbouring rooftops. And inside the wire fence around Lawaqa Park, Sigatoka, every seat is taken by those fans who were lucky enough to get tickets.
This is the Fiji Coral Coast Sevens tournament, pinnacle of entertainment in sevens-mad Fiji, more a South Pacific carnival than a sporting contest. Over two days 24 teams play 60 games for a grand prize of F$30,000 (NZ$20,700).
It's the perfect place to get a taste of life of Fiji. The smell of hot sila (sweet corn) wafts across the ground from the food stalls. Teams huddle together to pray. Cheerleaders in banana-leaf hats and lettered shirts torn from old sheets practice their routine. And the spectators, mostly wearing team shirts, beam enormous smiles and cry "bula" to everyone.
The atmosphere is fizzing with excitement. It's also hot and sticky, with dark clouds looming overhead, and my clothes are soon stuck to my skin. Next time I'll wear the local uniform of long shorts and rubber thongs.