Tahiti-Moorea
Home at last, after about twelve days in French Polynesia.
There is so much to say, I'll have to do it in little spurts. Internet access wasn't so easy for me to to find on Moorea. It's there, but transport was a bit touch-and-go (or not go). One is more or less "out in the country," on the one highway that loops the island, dependent on "le truck" whose schedule is uneven, or "le taxi" which costs an arm and leg. Even in paradise, walking is sweaty business and one tends to avoid it. I hope I still have a few loyal readers after this long hiatus.
Breathtaking beauty, cool ocean breezes, midday heat and humidity, zillions of gnats and a few mosquitoes, friendly smiling people mostly competent in Tahitian, French, and some English... but watch out for falling coconuts! (I'm not kidding, not with so many folks riding in the backs of pickup trucks.)
The first six days were tightly scheduled class activities (coral reef ecology field course) which involved a lot of snorkeling, lectures, counting things on transects underwater, and hardly a moment to simply look around, shop, and just enjoy being there. Not that it wasn't fun, just very compulsively North American-ish busy-hurry-busy-hurry with lots of hopping into and out of the back of the pickup truck confused about whether one is required to be dry or if it's okay to be wet as long as one is freshwater rinsed (depending on which vehicle and where one sits, not necessarily predictable when one is packing for the day). In between periods of following directions and hurrying, we had occasions to snorkel around and be amazed. My jaw would have gaped open the whole time if I hadn't needed it to bite and breathe with.
This part of the trip was marred by the fact that my ever-so-sweet-and-loving husband simply cannot stand being part of a group -- following directions or following anybody around or even simply keeping his mouth shut occasionally. But we made it to the end of the course without anyone killing or even trying to kill anyone else, though there were definitely impulses in that general direction. Fortunately he found an almost equally rebellious and loud-mouthed ex-marine classmate to jaw with, so he wasn't completely isolated. I was busy trying to stay out of the middle and tuning both of them out. The instructor barely managed to keep things civil while he struggled for control, and he was visibly relieved when my guy opted out of some of the class exercises.
Never again will I sign up my spouse for a class field trip!
The last five days we had to ourselves, and we lapsed avidly into "Tahiti time" with no schedules, no plans, no hurry. After enduring a week of typical (i.e. minimal) biological research station accommodations, we wallowed in the luxury of a seaside hotel with French and Tahitian food and drink, open-air everything, clean towels and bedding, and instant access to white sand beach or water or to doing absolutely nothing but loll under the fan in our cheery room. We even had a little privacy for sex! After two days there, we moved to a little extension of this hotel a few kilometers down the road, where we had a bungalow with kitchen, a teensy town a kilometer's walk away where we got cheese and salami and wine, and absolutely no other facilities but the ocean. That was fun too.
We flew out of Moorea and spent our last night on Tahiti in the "Paris of Polynesia," Papeete. There we spent almost twice as much for a dark cockroach-infested room with air conditioning that wailed and finally broke down in the middle of the night. We were lucky to find it. We had scrumptious and inexpensive duck dinners (Chinese style) on the waterfront, and the next day I got a lovely fish tatoo on my right calf.
That's all for now. Back tomorrow for more details and maybe pictures.
There is so much to say, I'll have to do it in little spurts. Internet access wasn't so easy for me to to find on Moorea. It's there, but transport was a bit touch-and-go (or not go). One is more or less "out in the country," on the one highway that loops the island, dependent on "le truck" whose schedule is uneven, or "le taxi" which costs an arm and leg. Even in paradise, walking is sweaty business and one tends to avoid it. I hope I still have a few loyal readers after this long hiatus.
Breathtaking beauty, cool ocean breezes, midday heat and humidity, zillions of gnats and a few mosquitoes, friendly smiling people mostly competent in Tahitian, French, and some English... but watch out for falling coconuts! (I'm not kidding, not with so many folks riding in the backs of pickup trucks.)
The first six days were tightly scheduled class activities (coral reef ecology field course) which involved a lot of snorkeling, lectures, counting things on transects underwater, and hardly a moment to simply look around, shop, and just enjoy being there. Not that it wasn't fun, just very compulsively North American-ish busy-hurry-busy-hurry with lots of hopping into and out of the back of the pickup truck confused about whether one is required to be dry or if it's okay to be wet as long as one is freshwater rinsed (depending on which vehicle and where one sits, not necessarily predictable when one is packing for the day). In between periods of following directions and hurrying, we had occasions to snorkel around and be amazed. My jaw would have gaped open the whole time if I hadn't needed it to bite and breathe with.
This part of the trip was marred by the fact that my ever-so-sweet-and-loving husband simply cannot stand being part of a group -- following directions or following anybody around or even simply keeping his mouth shut occasionally. But we made it to the end of the course without anyone killing or even trying to kill anyone else, though there were definitely impulses in that general direction. Fortunately he found an almost equally rebellious and loud-mouthed ex-marine classmate to jaw with, so he wasn't completely isolated. I was busy trying to stay out of the middle and tuning both of them out. The instructor barely managed to keep things civil while he struggled for control, and he was visibly relieved when my guy opted out of some of the class exercises.
Never again will I sign up my spouse for a class field trip!
The last five days we had to ourselves, and we lapsed avidly into "Tahiti time" with no schedules, no plans, no hurry. After enduring a week of typical (i.e. minimal) biological research station accommodations, we wallowed in the luxury of a seaside hotel with French and Tahitian food and drink, open-air everything, clean towels and bedding, and instant access to white sand beach or water or to doing absolutely nothing but loll under the fan in our cheery room. We even had a little privacy for sex! After two days there, we moved to a little extension of this hotel a few kilometers down the road, where we had a bungalow with kitchen, a teensy town a kilometer's walk away where we got cheese and salami and wine, and absolutely no other facilities but the ocean. That was fun too.
We flew out of Moorea and spent our last night on Tahiti in the "Paris of Polynesia," Papeete. There we spent almost twice as much for a dark cockroach-infested room with air conditioning that wailed and finally broke down in the middle of the night. We were lucky to find it. We had scrumptious and inexpensive duck dinners (Chinese style) on the waterfront, and the next day I got a lovely fish tatoo on my right calf.
That's all for now. Back tomorrow for more details and maybe pictures.
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