Travels

10/27/01 - Safari day. After breakfast this morning we waited to be picked up for the 4x4 Jeep tour. It had rained a bit earlier, and there was a lot of fog hanging about, so we were a little concerned that we wouldn't see much. Our man pulled up in the big bad 4 wheeler, and there were only 3 others on the tour. An older couple from Texas I think it was, and a solitary girl from France. We hopped in the back of the jeep, and we were off. The tour started off by going down the road a bit, and turning off onto an incredibly steep interior road. As we chugged up the hill, the first point of interest was the local landfill. This was very interesting, because there were a number of locals parked at the dump with their pickup trucks, and many of them were sitting on lounge chairs! I'm not sure how or why, but apparently the dump provides some folks with an income. I wish I knew the details of this, but then again, maybe it's better that I don't. We didn't stop here, but our driver honked the horn and waved to the folks hanging out with the garbage. We would soon discover that the driver was a popular guy. He seemed to know EVERYBODY.

A little further up the very steep hill, and through some giant mud puddles, we stopped at a great vantage point, where we could see the whole northwest side of the island, including Papeete harbor, and Moorea across the way. A brief lesson in history and agriculture from the driver, and we hopped back into the truck. We drove through some tough terrain and dense jungle, surrounded on all sides by rampant vegetation. In the same way the lagoons are brimming with all kinds of fish, the interiors of the French Polynesian islands are home to countless species as well. We saw all kinds of flowers: hibiscus, frangipani, heliconia, and all kinds of fruit plants: banana, pineapple, breadfruit, pamplemousse (green grapefruit) and starfruit. And on and on, all the while the driver spouted endless information about all the various species, which ones were native to the islands, and which ones were introduced, by whom, and when. Apparently the driver studied agriculture at one point, in addition to being a safari guide, surfer, and boar hunter. We had driven on further up the hill and deeper into the jungle when a misty rain came upon us. We came to another vantage point where we were treated to an enchanting canyon view, with mist and fog rising out of it like a great spirit. We snapped a few pictures while the driver told us about how he (and many locals apparently) still make a practice of hunting for wild boar -- with a machete! He said he first went out with his father and his grandfather when he was six years old. His father would tell him to duck down in the bushes, while he (the father) crept up on the animal, until he got close enough to scare him off, right in the direction of the grandfather, who was waiting in the bushes with the big knife. He stressed the importance of making sure the first hit did the trick. An angry, defensive, injured boar is not a thing to trifle with.

I don't know if everything our driver said was true -- everything he said was hard to believe. But for some reason I have no doubt that he was being completely honest. He was a very entertaining and funny man, as all the guides seem to be, but when times are tough, Tahitians get tougher. We continued through the jungle for a while and eventually headed back down to the road, and on to the shore. We stopped at one of the volcanic blowholes that have been carved out of the rocky shore by years of pounding surf. This one was called Arahoho. Somehow the wind and the water rushing into these holes gets shot back out as if from the spout of a whale. Despite the tumultuous weather that day, the blowhole action was a little bit tame. So on we went, around the coast road, past some volcanic black sand beaches and eventually to a waterfall, where we took a few more pictures, and kind of ventured off into the woods for a while, each person going his own way. Afterwards, our driver friend shared some baby bananas he had picked up from a vendor on the road, with whom he had been hanging out and chatting while we were frolicking in the waterfall.

The last stretch of the tour included a glimpse of downtown Papeete -- if only because we had to go through town to get back to the hotels. We asked to be let off in town because we felt like we only had a little taste the day before, and wanted to take some time seeing the market and the shops and whatever else Papeete had to offer. At the market, we spent a lot of time looking at all the wares people were hawking. From what I had read, this is the place to go to get any souvenir shopping done, and having done it, I would make the same recommendation. Generally the items here are a little less expensive than on the smaller islands, and the selection is simply overwhelming. There are two floors to this market, and it stretches for a hundred yards or more in each direction and around the bend. It's basically a giant mall, but not so tacky. Some of the items are tacky, but most are nice. I have a feeling that the majority of the items are imported, but you can tell what's local: the vanilla beans, the soaps, the oils, the tikis, the pareos, etc. You shouldn't go home without some of this stuff to remember your trip by. Or at least make off with some hotel soaps.

After another exciting Le Truck ride back to the hotel, we had our usual nap and shower. All fresh and clean and ready for dinner early, we took a walk around the place. We checked out the overwater bungalows there: not much to look at compared to the other places we had been. They were set off from the rest of the grounds by a small, man-made lagoon, or lagoonarium, as it was called. Apparently they had made a giant aquarium out of this lagoon, and it provides something neat to look at. When we were there it looked pretty dirty and cloudy. You could see the outline of a few fish here and there, but that was all. By this time the sun was on its way back down, and it was picture time again. Took a few shots from different places around the grounds, and then back to the veranda in the room for the perfect sunset vantage point.

Another shower for all, and off to dinner we went. Tonight they were putting on a Tahitian dance show. If I had written this report during the trip, or at least shortly thereafter, I would probably remember what we ate that night, but alas I don't have a clue. You would probably assume it was a buffet, and you'd probably be right. In any event, I guess that goes to show that the meals here were forgettable. Not worth going into detail about, anyway. The service was O.K., and the staff was friendly enough, but I think we were spoiled right from the start of this trip, in Moorea, and just slightly less so in Bora Bora.
On to the show.
Every hotel's got one. This one, as I recall, was good, but I also remember it having a nauseating "Disney on Broadway" feel to it. Very showy. They used the fancy waterfall pool as a prop. They put a boat in the pool. The big mostly-naked muscle-man warrior paddled his canoe across the pool to his sweetheart. The music had a very Andrew Lloyd Weber show-tune kind of sound, with electric keyboards and drum machines. Like cruise-ship music. Bad. But that was only part of the show. The traditional parts were excellent, and the performers really put their hearts and souls into it. And a lot of them were very young children. I have to give them credit. And afterwards, there was the ubiquitous "invite the audience up on stage" routine, lots of laughs all around, g'nite.

Do you see how long this entry has become? Well, our day was even longer, believe me. You might think this is where we finally lay down and get some sleep, but OH NO. We've got a plane to catch. Tonight. An 8-hour flight, departing at 1:45 a.m., back to Los Angeles. And you know what that means: another minivan trip. Ha! No minivan this time. This is a BIG hotel, and everyone here is here because one or two nights in Tahiti is a strangely mandated part of the trip. You just can't go to FP without one or two nights in Tahiti. That's just how the flight schedules seem to work. So anyway, this time we took a coach bus, packed to the gills. There had to be 60 people in there, easy. And it was right around the time we pulled into the Fa'aa Airport parking lot that I realized we were going to have to wait in line with all these people, to board the same flight! Thus began the nightmare which was getting on that plane. OK, I tend to exaggerate. It really wasn't that bad. Once we finally made it through check-in. There were two flights leaving that night. The Hawaiian Air, and the Air New Zealand. But there was only one check-in line. The Air New Zealand line. I think we arrived at the airport and got on line at around 10:30pm. It was 1:00am by the time we got through the line and into the departure lounge, where I immediately ordered up a Hinano, and sucked it down like it was the last beer on Earth. And as we waited, exhausted and weak and bleary-eyed, to board the plane, we had a chance to forget our most recent troubles and reflect back on what really was the trip of a lifetime.

California here we come!