Time travel in French Polynesia

Coral muncher

As our Tahiti-bound passenger jet crossed the 180th meridian, the opposite longitude of Greenwich, we hit the geographical halfway point in our journey. From that moment onwards we were no longer heading away from home, but rather towards it.

The 180th meridian is also the International Date Line, and, as such, we had to rewind the date on our clocks one full day. So, technically speaking, we had arrived before we had departed.


Date Line

So once we had touched down on the tiny runway, received our complimentary flowers from the happy, big-boned ukulele band, passed through customs and pulled in to the surf lodge of Ralf ‘No Worries’ Stadman, then for the second time in our lives we went to sleep on the night of Thursday April 9th, 2008.

Tahiti is much like the paradise we had imagined. Dramatic volcanic peaks rise out of the clear, warm Pacific, all of it covered in a seamless carpet of lush green rainforest. Along the coastal ring reef, perfect surf-tubes break continuously, adding a muffled background rumble.


Catching dinner

This paradise was the backdrop for the infamous mutiny on the Bounty, where Fletcher Christian, the angry third officer aboard the ship, set his commander, Captain William Bligh, adrift in a small wooden boat. But Bligh, being a hard-as-nails, old sea dog of a Captain (he’d been trained by Captain Cook) expertly navigated himself and all of his 18 crew to safety in Timor, many thousand kilometres away. No wonder they still name burgers after him.


Angler

Polynesia has been a French colony since the 1880s, although in the 1970s it was declared an overseas territory with “internal management autonomy”. Which means all French citizens have the right to stay here indefinitely, require no work permits, and can casually mooch about wearing mega-tight Speedos, a right which they all seem to exercise. And this covers some 100 islands spread over more than 2000 square kilometres. Quite a deal then. Forget about Cannes or the Cote D’azur; the most beautiful part of France is Polynesia.

And it's still very French. Along water front roads, petite Citroens and rusty Renaults race past churches and small rotisseries. Shops sell only carefully selected essentials, yet all carry disproportionately wide ranges of cheese and wine.

Even our tiny, local ’magasin’, a grocer that does not sell items like toilet paper or milk, manages to carry five different vintages of Bourdeaux and four different types of Brie. Fine wine and good cheese is clearly a major priority for any self-respecting French colony, no matter how remote.


Ferry ramp kid

From the 60s onwards parts of Polynesia were used as a nuclear testing site. When France got too much international pressure to stop, the French did the only rational thing they could think of – they sent their secret service agents to New Zealand to bomb the Greenpeace ship The Rainbow Warrior. Quite possibly the dumbest plan ever conceived by any government at any time.


Look behind you

Understandably Polynesia is very expensive. Everything comes at a huge mark-up, only some of which is to recoup thousands of miles of spent fuel. Even local produce is very costly. Then again, inflated prices don’t seem to be a problem for most of the foreigners. Few visitors come to Tahiti on a tight budget.

The islands we’ve seen so far, Tahiti and nearby Moorea, are flawlessly beautiful. And if we’d have the time to island-hop, then we’d undoubtedly encounter many more, probably even more beautiful ones. Apparently Marlon Brando liked it so much he bought himself one. And you can’t blame him. French Polynesia is like Jurassic Park meets Aix-en-Provence. C’est très magnifique.


Black tipped sharks

After spending a few nice but mosquito-plagued days in a bungalow on Moorea, we stumbled upon ‘Mark’s Place Paradise’, a few kilometres down the road, run by a super-friendly, American, 300-words-per-minute kind of guy. Awesome. As a long time carpenter Mark lives in a tree, in the plushest, most well built tree house you could ever imagine. It has a waterfall, a pool and three verandas. This is the tree house that every ten-year old kid dreamed of, but spectacularly fails to build.

Today we had our best ever scuba diving trip. Great visibility, nice people and lots of marine life. We swam freely amongst 12 foot lemon sharks (Requin Citron, for which the underwater signal is a hand on the head, signifying shark, and then a circular motion with the other hand, to signify squeezing a lemon), lots of black tipped sharks and the biggest turtles we’d ever seen.

As a whole, Tahiti has been wonderful. A little pricey, but with the isolated location, that is quite understandable. People have made us feel welcome, and the chilled pace of the place makes everyone wish they’d have a few more weeks.


Dive 2

Since the days of Captain Bligh and the race to lay claim to the Pacific, many things have changed. Luxury resorts have popped up, roads have been built and Coca Cola have given away free signs to every commercial enterprise. But even so, Polynesian life seems chronically unhurried, and most people we’ve met have seemed very happy with their lot in life. And you can’t ask for more than that.


Tahitian dusk

Tomorrow we leave for Easter Island, our next distant Pacific outpost.

Maururo Tahiti. Peace out.

We’ll remember you.