The plane races into land amidst turquoise blue lagoons and elegant palms. You take the scenic route across the tarmac, from plane to terminal shack. The gent who walks you over, returns in the high vis, to begin role number 2. He climbs aboard the little truck and tows the bags into the terminal building. A unique carousel, a trailer towed by a truck, which helped to give early impressions of what the island is like. Our bags are lugged onto the side of the waiting shelf by a monster of an islander, his eyebrows tattooed to his face. Excited tourists record snippets of this memorable arrival into Mo’oera local airport.
With a lack of wifi and with limited transport offerings, besides those fortunate enough to be whisked off to their resorts, we stood idle in the airport soaking in our new environment. At that moment, a lady approached saying she was looking for Zoe. With a stroke of luck, our beautiful Polynesian host, Frederique welcomed us to her island and guided us to her car. As she raised the boot, the smell of damp dog oozed from the car. We climbed aboard her little Jeep and departed. A small trip took us on the dirt track around the airport fence. Her house, the perfect location. Bordering the sea and with views of the picturesque lagoon, we seemed to have lucked out. She gave us a tour of our little nest for the coming days. The bathroom - stunningly different. An outdoor shower, hidden behind a surf board with a sink decorated in local white flowers. This outdoor centrepiece was the gateway to our room. Three steps up to our elevated boudoir - French doors opened to allow the sea breeze to waft through the room, swaying the mosquito net gently across the room. Bright colourful curtains mirrored the exuberant surroundings we had found ourseves in. A few steps from our sea view balcony, the main house area, where she had stocked our fridge full of local jams and fresh bread. Beach driftwood lay on shelving units and kitchen furniture, offering the most basic but beautiful interior design. The interior tour complete, we walked past her two husky style dogs towards her private beach. Two deck chairs lying in waiting for our arrival and a small picnic bench for our forthcoming meals. We could have spent thousands to be in a resort - instead we went for the cheap option. It seems we may just have made the perfect choice. Greeted by the wonderful Frederique and afforded what had to be the best room on the island!
Bags away and lathered in suncream, we headed for the white sand beach, moments from the sun kissed balcony. We found a suitably sandy patch, free from washed up coral and enjoyed reading our books, whilst the waves washed our toes. The sound of the brushing trees and breaking waves - the only distraction. The narrow beach stretched as far as the eye could see, we were all alone. As we sat and enjoyed the view, black tip reef sharks scanned the waters for fish, whilst their dinner hurried past the boulders of coral. With the temperatures soaring and the sun getting hotter, it wasn’t long before we jumped into the crystal clear waters. Pictures could not do this place justice. Your toes in the sand look as clear as day, whilst the glistening of the sun on the turquoise waters catch your eye. The colours are radiant and so captivating. We were beginning to see the appeal of these beautiful tropical islands.
The hours rolled by and business plans were concocted. We returned buoyant about our future plans and jumped on the bikes, which Frederique set aside for us. Strange things to be honest, not something I have ever seen before. To go forward - the usual, one revolution after the other. But, the bloody things had no brakes. To stop - and I mean stop dead - you have to peddle backwards. A rather hard skill to perfect - especially when driving on gravel tracks, on the wrong side of the road, carrying two baguettes! Much like other woeful modes of transportation we have used over the months, we came to love these little things. They are super cool - look unbelievably trendy and coped with any terrain we threw at them. We headed out, along the airport runway towards the golf course. Golfers putt holes and drove tees as we disected through the course alongside the lake. 2 km in and we found the main road, tarmac felt like we were suddenly rolling down hill. The two wheelers started picking up some pace - unnerving given the whole brake situation! We passed through little towns - a few shops agglomerated together selling more tourist t-shirts and beach gear. We stopped off at the supermarket to gather a few provisions for the next few days. Amongst other stuff, a few baguettes and some drinks. With it all thrown in the basket - we headed for the beach for a sundowner and a picnic dinner alongside the setting sun.
We were woken to the sound of the breaking waves and the smell of coffee in the kitchen. With a day of snoozing on the beach, we thought it best to get in a little run. We headed towards the golf course to complete a little 6km loop. Despite it barely ticking a minute past 0800, the sun was pretty ferrocious and the humidity made it quite a challenge. At least, thats what we put it down to. With a swift cool shower and the trunks thrown on, we rustled up a little breakfast and took it to the beach to enjoy with a view. There is something amazing about making something of your meal - the stale bread, toasted, somehow tasted extra good as a result of the vista in front of us.
The island is small, a 2 hour round trip they say - with a paved road providing the best route. As we scooted through palm lined roads, the warm breeze filling our helmets and the sun streaming through our glasses - it certainly moved the soul. You felt every part of the ride and became fully emerged in the island vibe. The coastline rife with inviting bays, we pulled up at the first most enticing beach. White sands brushed with coral sat beneath coconut and mango trees. Out to sea, baby blue waters osmosed into different shades of blue as they headed towards the reef break. Pristine, crystal waters screamed at us to jump in. We duly obliged and soaked ourselves in the warm tropical waters. This was what we had come for. Whilst a host of fish streamed past, rays snooping the sea bed - everything was so easy to watch. It felt as though we were swimming in the world’s biggest swimming pool, except for the lack of people.
With a little win under our belts, having found such a mint beach - we jumped back on the little twizzle scooter. A 15 minute ride has us in the little central town - a convenience base at the most. However, as we revved up to get us back to full speed, a Verve Cliquot branded, orange draped beach bar took our fancy. We pulled in, only to be greeted with one of the most expensive menus printed. With a ten dollar coke enjoyed to its final drop, we certainly made the most of the view point. Docked in the bay, catamarans and yachts picking up rations for pacific crossings and island hopping cruises. With the small pontoon and the clear waters crashing into the rocks, it made the expenditure all the more worth it.
Rehydrated, we headed for beach number two. Much the same thing right? Turquoise waters, the picture perfect palm leaning over white sands, is what we found.As sailors took advantage of the free showers on the beachside, we soaked in a few more rays and enjoyed a bit of reading. Locals jumped in kayaks to head to fishing points and others brought their kids to bathe after a stifling warm day in school. With their arrival a reminder of the time, we decided to keep scooting. To tell the truth, we had no real idea how far round the island we had got…we had certainly been gone longer than the 2 hour prediction! AS we headed towards the eastern side of the island, the vegetation changed and the population decreased. Beaches gave way to coral coves and rocky bays. Palms became thicker and the vegetation more dense. We had arrived in a jungle it seemed. The tall volcanic mountains looked even more impressive, draped in colourful flowers, caked in thick dramatic clouds. The waters still pristine. As we rode through the final part of the island, locals greeted us with a warm smile and a flick of their hand. The island life here is remote but jaw droopingly beautiful.
We had heard great rumours about the Hilton Creperie. During my existence I have only every eaten a crepe out the back of a van, in an ice cream parlour if I am feeling exotic or on shrove Tuesday. Shrove Tuesday aside - where I make thousands for what seems like a £1, I have never really stretched further than a fiver! These cretins are asking for £20.00 a crepe. We knew this before we made the scoot there. As the sun set we headed to the place - we had a rough idea where it was. Due west, we were fortunate to see the sky change colour gradually as our journey persisted. The orange glow soon became a bright crimson, painting the few clouds a glorious reddy colour. The sea took on a whole new colour and the island looked at its glorious best. In the distance, we could see a pontoon of floating bungalows lit up in the night sky. That would be our destination. We parked up and walked confidently through the reception only to negotiate a little table on their floating pontoon. With lights beaming into the water, this is a must do experience if you ever visit this part of the pacific. As you sit, fish feed on the coral below…or on crepe that stupid Americans throw in. Amazing how ignorant some folk can be. We enjoyed a shot of beer and a crepe before making the ride home in the pitch black. One issue with riding a scooter at night is that, if you imagine your car after driving in the dark - akin to an insect mortuary…well that was sadly my face. The bugs, attracted to the headlamp, ended up careering into my eyes. Hugely inconvenient and not too pleasant.
Sadly, when we rose the next morning that was it for Mo’oera. Our time here was done. Our flight was at 1240 so we thought we had good time to get one last glimpse of the incredible beaches the island had to offer. With that, we headed for the local beach. A quick 20 minute open water swim ticked off the activity for the day, before chewing the cud in the shallows. Locals entertained us with water aerobics and tree surgeons trimmed the palms. Before long, 1100 was approaching and we thought we better go and get ourselves together. It seemed rather ridiculous that our Airbnb could be the airport terminal - it really was that close. We shoved the remaining items in the North Face duffles and headed to the road to hitch a ride. The time etched on the iWatch at this point was 1155. Bare in mind that the walk is an hour, at a brisk pace, without 23kg backpacks on, in 30 degree heat…I am not sure really what we had left it this late for.
On a road on which we had seen numerous passers bay every day, we suddenly saw nobody. The time was ticking by and the sweat becoming rather offensive. My whole body was streaming with sweat, water was running off me like a waterslide. We saddled up to a poor bloke building a wall and asked him if he could run us round to the airport as our flight left in 40 minutes and we were worried (knew) we would miss it if not. Having put him in a very awkward position, he reluctantly said no. Can you imagine, we basically said ‘unless you take us pal, we are missing our flight’ I feel bad that we did this - he was a good guy and we must have made him feel extremely awkward having to let us down. Needless to say, I did not feel to bad, a further 200 metres down the road, the sweat now past the point of acceptable I noticed a bloke fixing a school bus. The thing had been parked here for the last 3 days and not rolled an inch. But I thought I would try my luck - after all - all we had to loose was a flight.
In my best French, I asked if we could pay him some money to take us to the airport. I must have made some sense as he responded with a oui. We waited patiently as he went to get his belongings. He came back within 5 minutes and ushered us to the school bus. Empty and derelict. We climbed aboard and he turned the ignition, only for us to sit outside his house for what seemed an eternity. I didn’t want to be rude and ask a question as to why we still were not moving, so waited, the sweat still streaming, only this time with no breeze to carry it away. The seat was getting pretty damp for the poor infant due to ride it later in the afternoon. Eventually, his wife, the conductor, the bus chief arrived and sat next to me. She looked at me and said ‘il fait chaux eh”! Your telling me love…I have just walked a mile with what seems like a mountain on my back, am about to miss a flight and your hubby has had me sat here for ten minutes without a breath of wind.
In any case, the bus slowly rolled towards the terminal, the runway always in sight. We made it with the skin of our teeth at 1220. We jumped off our bus with the remaining passengers calmly waiting have been dropped by their 5 star accommodations, 2 hours prior The lady at the desk checked us in rapidly and proceeded to say ‘check in ferme.’ Why be early when you can be on time ey?
As we began our search for a lift - I said to Zo, whatever happens this will provide us with a good story. It certainly did that and some - Mo’orea you were unforgettable.