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Published: June 18th 2023
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Today we head back across to Tahiti, the main reason for this being a tour into the island’s interior which we’ve got planned for tomorrow. We’re very sad to be leaving our relaxing bungalow on the shores of the Moorea lagoon.
But first the hazards of check out. The delightful young French girl who’s job it is to shepherd us out of our lodgings knows how to say “check out”, but that seems to be about where her English stops … and our French … well “bonjour”’s about it. We got the accommodation to book us a taxi to the ferry terminal, but we still don’t know when or if it’s coming or how we’re supposed to pay for it, and no amount of talking slowly and hand gesturing seem to be getting the questions across. But the resourcefulness of youth quickly kicks in and after a few minutes of to and froing with the ever-reliable Google Translator machine, hey presto, we’re on our way.
We complement our fifty something speed fiend taxi driver on the beauty of her island as it whizzes past us at roughly double the speed limit. We hadn’t really noticed before but she tells
us that Moorea is the only island in French Polynesia where all the electricity and power cables are underground. So that’s why it all feels so natural … as well as explaining all the cable ends sticking up out of the ground along the Road of Death. They were hard to see in the dark. We should probably thank our lucky stars we didn’t get zapped.
We follow the directions on the Google Maps machine to our apartment in the backstreets of Papeete. The pace of life here is a bit different to that in Moorea and it’s taking a while to adjust. I’d always thought that cars were supposed to give way to pedestrians at pedestrian crossings, but not so here it seems. The one exception seems to be if an approaching vehicle flashes its headlights at you. The problem comes when it’s a two lane road you’re trying to navigate, and only the headlights of the car in one of the lanes is flashing; the car in the other one’s still hellbent on mowing you down.
We head out for an evening stroll along Papeete’s waterfront. There’s no shortage of fancy looking yachts on display. There’s
also an impressive lineup of outrigger canoes sitting on the foreshore just back from the waterline, presumably waiting for the next round of competition. The landscaping along here‘s been done to perfection - lots of well used children’s playgrounds, a soccer pitch, barbecues under thatched canopies, bars, trees and tropical vegetation, and wide expanses of grass to lay yourself down on - all extremely attractive. And it’s Saturday night, so the locals are out in force.
We prowl the city’s backstreets in search of dinner, but suitable eateries seem to be in short supply. We eventually come across an alleyway lined with seedy looking restaurants/karaoke bars. We can’t be bothered walking any further, so we choose one and in we go. This joint advertises itself as Mexican, so we decide to go with the nachos. Burnt corn chips smothered in barbecue sauce wasn‘t quite what we had in mind, but it’s OK, there’s always beer … and we’re happy … well at least I’m happy; my football team, the mighty Blues, has won its first game in about two months, so it’s time to celebrate. And what better way than with a session of karaoke in the bar upstairs.
Fortunately my travelling companions have imbibed a bit less than yours truly, so common sense eventually prevails...
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