The Sun Shines

When the sun shines, this truly is a wonderful Island. Colours burst forth from every direction, the clearest shades of blue from the sea, darkening with the depths, shimmering in the shallows.





The rich greens of the garden, banana, papaya, mango moving gently against the back drop of grass.






The intense greens of the forests where vines intertwine with the trees. Long tendrils drooping down, curving and tangling to form impenetrable walls, as solid as the volcanic walls that rise shear from their base.



The colours of the various flowers simply can not be described so I shall not even try. Everywhere you look colour fills the senses, even the browns of fading leaves, the yellows of fallen palm fronds add to the textures of this place.




Brightly feathered cockerels strut about the place, crowing their supremacy, white flashes, like those of a magpie, announce the arrival of the Mynar birds as they arrive on the bird table.

There is also no twilight, no lingering dawn. One moment there is darkness, the next there is colour.


My exploration around the Island have been limited by my own laziness. I have been to the shops to buy food and bread, I have been to the famous look out point at Bellveder.





I have been to the neighbours to meet and greet everyone at a wonderful gathering that had people singing loudly into the early hours of the morning, guitars, and other stringed instruments being beautifully played by everyone you meet.

I have walked the length and breadth of the garden, picking up leaves, peering down the enormous holes made by the land crabs, clearing the climbing grass from the borders, refilling the compost bins scattered around the place.


And I have spent a morning following Pape and Jan around the local bureaucratic offices as, in French, they have tried to register me with the local health care.

Jan has been an angel filling in the forms, asking all the questions, directing us from one office to the next. The 40 plus years she spent working for the bureaucracy shone through as she slowly, and carefully, worked her way through all the different options until I am now safely within the system.


Today, however I ventured out alone! Well not totally alone. Nella, our neighbour at the bottom of the garden, rows for a local Tahitian Canoeing club. They meet informally every other Wednesday to take the long 6 person Kayak out onto the lagoon. Today I had my first lesson in Tahitian Canoeing, in French!!! To be fair, the few instruction they gave me in English I carried out to a 'T', during the French instructions, I just copied what everyone else was doing and hoped for the best.

There are no photos I am afraid but I will try to add some at a later date.

We pushed the long Canoe into the shallows, I was shown where to sit and instructed on how to use the single wooden paddle. The wonderful little French speaking instructor explained to me in perfect English, how to change paddle sides when the caller called HEY (or something that sounded like Hey!) I had, she explained, one more stroke on that side and then I had to change to the other side of the canoe as fluently as I could and keep the beat with the other paddlers! Simple!!

The speed at which these people paddle their canoe is something resembling the beginning of 'Hawaii 50' speeded up ten times!! Whether my paddling actually contributed to the movement of the boat or not I do not know as we raced through the water. Splashes of cooling water sprayed across my back as the paddles were moved from one side to the other following the call of 'HEY'. We paddled into the wind, spray from the tiny crests blowing into our faces. I didn't have a clue as to where we were suppose to be going but our trajectory seemed a bit erratic as we dove through the waves into the morning sun.

At one point some serious back paddling had to be done as we drifted dangerously close to the reef during a water consumption break. We returned to the shore with the wind and sun to our backs. Either I was improving or the wind was helping, as we positively flew across the water. A pep talk was delivered in the shallows, instructions for steering seemed to be the theme. The lady, who's position I had happily occupied, rejoined her team and they returned to the water. I waited on the shore in the shade of a palm, arms happy for the rest-bite, feet and ankles cooling in the sea.


It is two more weeks until they meet again but, with their permission, I will be back, paddling away like there is no tomorrow on the blue blue sea.