La Orana!I

Friday, Jan 12 Take 2

After a ground delay, we cross the international date line on a delightful flight on Air NZ in premium economy (i.e. old school business class) with fantastic food, and land in Papeete, Tahiti (the airport is technically located in Fa’aa (Fa-ah-ah), FYI because that’s fun to say) at approximately 1:30 in the morning.

Fun fact, it is great to be American at Tahitian immigration. Not for the old, standard reasons. But, the EU passport line looks like it will take days and there are like 7 people in the non-Tahiti/EU lines. Which was super great - because the taxi situation was touch and go. We exchange NZ dollars at some terrible rates for Pacific Francs (xpf) and get in the cab line. We were 2nd in line, and it still probably took a solid 15 minutes before we got a taxi. We had also asked the currency exchange guy how much a taxi should cost to our hotel and he had indicated 2000-3000 xpf (roughly $20-$30), so when the taxi driver quoted us 3500 and we tried to haggle down to 2500 and then he got back in his car, drove passed us in a huff, and picked up the people behind us, we were a bit taken aback. Shortly thereafter, another cab came and the lovely lady driving that car noticed we spoke English, brought out a handy dandy little chart that indicated standard taxi rates to specific hotels with ours listed as 3500, we were like.... oh. We’re jerks. Not a haggling culture. So much for trying to be travel savvy! #UglyAmericans We finally arrive and check in at the Le Meridien after 3a.

Uh oh, we notice that one of the straps to my trusty old backpack has finally ripped. So, I have to one-arm it. Awkward. On top of that, Chris’s backpack has a torn drawstring at the top. We decide to deal with it once we get to Patagonia. Because, you know, they named an entire outdoor chain after the region and probably can handle such things.

We sleep, figure out the ferry schedule, and get on our way fairly quickly the next morning. Another 3500 xpf cab to the ferry terminal. We pick up round trip tickets, eat some french fries to prevent hanger later, and answer our respective work emails with the convenient WiFi at the ferry terminal.

Many tourists staying in Tahiti are known to take a scenic day trip to Moorea via this ferry. Our luggage gets unloaded.

(Note the giant crate of pineapples that are ready to get exported to Tahiti).

We take another 3500 xpf cab to our hotel. Our driver is local to the island, happened to work at the activity desk at our particular resort for 17 years, and then went off to start her own business. She offered us several helpful recommendations and conveniently went ahead and scheduled our return transfer for our departure date. Upon check-in, we were greeted with flower leis and fresh pineapple juice. Pineapples are a big deal here. There is a pineapple juice/liqueur factory on the island.

We were taken to our overwater bungalow at the end of the dock via golf cart. 

We get our suits on and jump right in. 

The water is perfect. With our long legs, we can just perfectly touch the sea floor. I suppose this is just slightly better than that hostel we just stayed at. We’re not the best swimmers. So, water-standing in calm tropical seas is kind of the best thing ever. We meet our piscine neighbors living under our bungalow in a coral.

And then we head to happy hour. 2 for 1 from 4-7, everyday, woo! Also, super helpful since drinks are $18-25 each.

We chow down on delicious/free plantain chips and happy hour appetizers, return to the bungalow, watch the sunset, swim/stand a little more, finish Season 2 of The Crown...

And pass out. I set an alarm for sunrise, because I have this *feeling* it won’t disappoint, and voila.

 Pictures are all unedited...  because, we'll deal with all of that later.

Back to sleep. We figure out the breakfast situation - the various restaurants at the resort were a bit confusing with the times they were open and which required reservations/why. We go to the only place serving breakfast (for which we did not prepay and are afraid that it is the $95/plate buffet) and then realize that we’re right at the beginning of low season. Our breakfast was comped because it’s just easier for them to feed all of the guests in one fell swoop.

We pick up our complimentary snorkels and go back to the bungalow for more swimming. And then head to the lobby to get picked up for our first activity! I got open water scuba certified in Lake Malawi in 2011, and haven’t been diving since despite several attempts to arrange excursions on various trips. Chris and I did a discovery/refresher dive and have 2 more dives scheduled for the next day.

FWIW, that snazzy shirt is evidence of the first time I influenced his wardrobe. He was hosting a luau at his house a month after we started dating, where I met all of his friends and was famously cornered/accosted by one protective friend. I insisted that he would have further opportunities to wear this ridiculous shirt. :)

Let’s just say that Chris would have probably benefited from a full Scuba course prior to this first attempt, for example – in a swimming pool. But, he was a trooper!

But, I saw a clown fish in just 10 feet of water! Also, I was not the best at equalizing my ears (think: babies whose ears hurt when airplanes land) in the past, but I was pleased with how I did in that regard.

Afterwards, we hit happy hour for more daiquiris, cleaned up, and then got picked up for dinner. Local restaurants in Moorea offer free pickup/drop-off service for guests at resorts to encourage them to get off the resort.

Le Mahogany, a local restaurant known for French/Chinese/Local cuisine.

 Ota Ika, a delicious raw fish, lime, and coconut milk salad.

We have continued our habit of splitting an appetizer and an entrée whilst eating out to much success.

The conversation we had with the driver for the restaurant about politics in America prompted us to reconsider our return flight home. Chris may have spent 2 hours searching online and talking on the phone with various airlines to try to add Port-Au-Prince to our itinerary home without spending too much money and still getting back in time for work on Monday. Other than spending $1500 in a combination of dollars and points, the “best” way involved flying from Colombia to JFK to Fort Lauderdale (spending the night) to Haiti for 8 hours, and then returning to DC very late on Sunday night for $500 and 50,000 points. We considered it, because we’re crazy, spiteful people. But, we decided that if we really want to see and support Haiti, it would be better (and likely cheaper) to go for a weekend later in the year. After typing that, I just realized that “a weekend” to the Caribbean is still crazy for most people. But, anything longer than 36 hours is frankly luxurious for us!

The next morning, I may have washed a “load” of clothes in this fancy bathtub using Tide’s travel sink pack and laid everything out to dry on the deck of our end of dock overwater bungalow. (I’m not paying the hotel $6 to wash - not even dry clean - a $10 shirt from Old Navy!).

The word you are looking for is “classy.”  ;)

Also, no underwear flew away. #win

Chris was not so sure whether he would return for Day 2 of diving, but he figured that there were few better places to try scuba diving again and he would be bored otherwise. After breakfast, we were picked up for Dives 2 and 3 for the day. Since I only had basic certification and the others with us had more advanced certifications, we had our own personal instructor for the day – Julie, who I am convinced is a mermaid from France. She was our instructor the previous day too.

While better than the previous day, Dive 2 does not go that great for Chris. He has mask clearing issues. We previously agreed that he would do his best to attempt diving again today, but that if it did not go well that I should still continue with the dive and that he would go back to the boat. So, that’s what we did. I continued with Julie and saw sharks, trigger fish, and trumpet fish. When I returned, I found Chris relaxing on the boat, happy as a clam, eating fresh pineapple.

After a break, the boat sped onward to a spot called the Coral Wall. Since the waters were fairly calm, and there were sharks circling the boat, Chris opted to snorkel while Julie and I went off. He managed to see a lot just snorkeling!

The deepest I’ve ever been so far is 10m. We went as deep as 13m on this dive. We saw lots of sharks, beautiful fishies, and 2 SEA TURTLES!

At the surface, Julie asked me what I was trying to frantically indicate to her with my “hand signals.” Clearly, I was going for “OMG THIS ONE ONLY HAS 3 LEGS AND I LOVE HIM.” She thought there was something wrong with my leg/heart and that I wanted to go back up in 3 minutes. Oops. She figured that I was fine since I kept swimming.

That other thing is his tail.

Upon returning to the hotel, we get lunch at the grill.

While Chris naps, I snorkel some more to attempt better shots of a particular spotted fish I saw under our bungalow. Very quickly, my underwater camera housing starts leaking and filling up with water. (Likely my fault, I haven’t resealed the edges in awhile). Chris procures a ‘rice bucket’ to see if we can salvage the camera. Camera seems dead, but the memory cards are clearly fine. Phew.

And here I am wearing the dress I spent way too much on just to wear to that same luau, because I told myself I would totally wear it again. 

We hit happy hour for dinner (and learned that we had cleaned them out of strawberry puree, ha!), watched Letterman’s interview with President Obama on Netflix, and went to bed early.

After we enjoy our last sunrise and breakfast,  we pack and insist on carrying our own bags to check out – to the surprise/amusement/disdain of many. Upon checkout, the resort presented us with leis made of shells – a common Polynesian custom. Flowers die. Shells and memories stay forever.

Our scuba instructor recommended that we check out the Lagoonarium. We call an audible and rent a car for the day, since it was cheaper and logistically more convenient than taxis/luggage storage. There is basically one road the runs the circumference of the island, and the directions are all in clockwise or counterclockwise.

We get to the Lagoonarium office, that is basically a one-room hut with a handpainted sign that says “Lagoonarium,” board a dingy operated by a delightful local guy named Yotua, “Yo-yo” for short, and land upon a private lagoon known for shark and manta ray feedings.

Um, EVERYONE, should go to here. We were 2 of 5 people here. There was one other family here – a French family who lives in New Caledonia (a random island in the Indian Ocean we would have gone to on this trip had Madagascar not gotten cut!).

After we legitimately snuggle manta rays and sharks for an hour and immediately regret not having our underwater camera (we still have our nice camera/underwater housing back at the car – but, we’re worried about testing things out before Antarctica). We ask to get taken back to land to rent their only underwater camera. Its battery needs to be charged. We take this time to take the car and stop by a pharmacy to pick up more sunscreen, since we’re running low and the tropical sun is particularly strong today. We get back, sunscreen it up, and swim for another 90 minutes or so. Here is a clip from our video footage. 

Manta rays are truly the ballerinas of the sea, and are as soft as they look. Chris calls this, “the coolest thing he has ever done.” I have trouble ranking cool things… because I like everything.

Apparently, our efforts with sunscreen were insufficient. Despite wearing a t-shirt and multiple applications of sunscreen, the backs of Chris’s legs and arms were radioactive red. Even I got burnt. I have been burnt a couple times previously – but it would immediately turn to tan within a day. This one was the first one that really hurt. My back and shoulders were toasty for days (backpacks were a poor choice).

We returned the car, got dropped off at the Ferry terminal, and headed back to Tahiti.

We took the last ferry back, which got us back at 5:30. Our flight is not until 2:55 AM. We have all these bags. My pack still has a broken strap. We’re lobster messes. There is nowhere to store our bags. So, we make the executive decision to head straight to the airport.

There is technically a lounge that we have access to after security, but it closes at a 11p and the check-in counter for our flight does not open until 10:55 PM. It’s also probably the most limited airport in terms of seating, comfort, and things to do. But, they have bag storage. We store our bags, buy a large bottle of aloe, change out of our wet clothes (still gross from the ocean – no shower yet), and head across the street to this obscure Chinese restaurant that was recommended to us by multiple airport workers.

We stretch out our dinner there for 3 hours. Chris even pulls out his work laptop like a classy restaurant patron to knock out some emails.

We return to the airport with still more than 5 hours remaining before our flight. We really need to sleep as much as we can in the airport and on the plane, because we have to hit the ground running in Easter Island, which is 5 hours ahead. I can’t really lie down on the metal seats with my burnt back, so I people watch while Chris naps.

Thankfully, the airport does provide entertainment. He slept through a full conch shell/base drum song/dance medley. 

We finally check in, get through security, and then pass out on the plane.

Overall, we would both absolutely return to Moorea. And the off-season is fantastic. We’re not really the beach type, though we now understand why people go on “relaxing” tropical honeymoons immediately following their weddings, which is the opposite of what we did (live-aboard sailing course in the BVI with a racist instructor of questionable qualification). 3-4 days was the perfect amount of time for us.