Moorea

Having made the flight out of Singapore; thanks mainly to Peter who pulled and pushed 28kg of suitcase (plus his own back-pack!)on and off the buses throughout Malaysia, and Singapore, dragged 28kg of luggage (plus his own back-pack) through the crowded streets of Singapore while we looked for a hotel, and then man-handled 28kg of baggage (this time without his own back-pack which was safe in the hotel) onto the even busier Singapore metro to finally get me to the airport; I boarded my plane with mixed emotions. I then spent 24 hours in Aukland Airport, while I awaited my connecting flight.

My mood was sombre, the time slipped by slowly. Memories of the last few weeks replaying in my mind. This was it. In the next 24 hours I would reach my destination for the next year. I would unpack the 28kg, make myself a home, learn a new pace and way of life and see what life held.

I arrived mentally exhausted and emotional. Tears threatened to overflow at any given opportunity. “24 hours” I kept telling myself. Keep going for just another 24 hours and you can let go then. Just through the airport, get to the hotel, get to the ferry, get to your new home. It will all be OK soon.

Pape was waiting at the door way, flower garland in his hands. We hugged,, we smiled, the tears threatened again but I pushed them back down. 24 hours! 24 hours.

Live music began to play, a floor show of dancers in tiny white costumes gyrated across the floor. Drums pounded out a rhythm, feet were stamped, hips were thrust to and fro shaking the costumes decorative shells adding to the percussion. The gathering people cheered and applauded. The dance continued with increasingly energetic steps and movements, sweat soon glistening on the bodies of those involved. The crowd grew, cameras capturing the moment. My mind was distracted enough to cope.


The Hotel, or Pension as they are called here, was spotless and airy, our driver helpful as he tried to lift the 28kg case!. We sat out on the verandah chatting about this and that, the darkness hiding any details of the surroundings, before we retired to bed. Although incredibly tired, both Pape and I found it difficult to sleep. Thoughts raced through my head, random, jumbled, distracting, annoying. I began to silently chant until, at last, I fell asleep.,

We rose early to a breakfast that was delicious, fresh fruit platter, bread and jam, tea or coffee. The 28kg, now dragged by Pape, was manhandled onto a bus and by 7am we were sitting on the ferry crossing the twelve miles of water that separate Moorea from Tahiti.

The sky was grey, the air pleasantly cool. Pape complained about the cold, to me it was as warm as our summers on a balmy day. Jan, Pape's long time friend, met us at the terminal, more flower garlands were added to my neck, the 28kg was squeezed into the boot and the final leg was on.

We stopped briefly in the Drs to sort out the infection in my leg and bladder. Tropical bites and diseases can too easily turn nasty and must, I have learnt, be dealt with immediately. Airborne infections fill the moist air working their way in through any tiny break in the skin. Over here it is not a matter of 'letting the air get to it' but rather of covering even the tiniest of scratches immediately, and leaving it covered until it heals.

We dropped Jan at her place, picked up Pape's car, did a brief shop for fresh fruit and veg and came home. Overhead thick clouds gathered in the already overcast sky, the air temperature dropped further, the winds began to blow. I dragged the 28kgs down the small slope to my new home and opened the door.

The journey (for now) was over.