Tipaniers lies at the 24k marker way past Opunohu Bay on one side of the island, Papes house is at the 13k marker, Lucianos lies way past Cooks Bay, and is at the 2k marker on the other side of the Island! We decided that a 44k round trip to retrieve the board for the evening was not one of our priorities and so we left the sign where it was and sang the night away regardless.
Monday morning, as the sun rose into the hazy overcast sky I decided I would cycle to Tipanier and retrieve the our sign. 11 km there, 11k back, no problem. I wheeled my my faithful bike out of her shed to the front of my flat. I loaded up her front basket with a bottle of water from the spring, a jar of home-dried bananas, a tube of sun screen and the bike lock, (securing the key in my purse this time after I lost the last one!).
I put on my cycling shorts, big baggy flowery things that once belonged to my father, a cool long sleeved top and retrieved my broad rimmed sun hat from its peg on the wall.
The dogs were walked to the football field and back, walking so beautifully on their leads. They were then given their breakfast, fussed over accordingly and put into the back of the van in anticipation of my escape.
Slowly I pushed the bike to to top of the driveway, the front basket heavy with of all my goodies and with a brief “Back later” to my Father I was off.
Pape remarked later that day, that when he had released the dogs from the van a few minutes after my departure, both Nessy and Whiskey had raced to the top of the driveway to look for me while Tattoo, being older and much more sensible, had wandered up to sit beside them. He said that Whiskey had looked at Nessy, and Nessy had looked at Whiskey, as if they were both asking each other what they should do. With a final look down the length of the drive way, they unanimously made their decision and raced down to the road to look for me while Tattoo simple sat down in the shade to wait!
I, by now, was well out of sight and so a few minutes later, once they were sure I was not in the immediate vicinity, both the dogs returned panting to the shade of the garage and along with Tattoo, and lay down having decided that all they could do now was await my return!
The hazy sky kept the sun at bay, the breeze was cooling on my face, my trusted bike ricochetted for one pot hole to the next, throwing the contents of my basket from one side to the other as we worked our way along the road. The beach, that I now regularly visit, was reached in a matter of minutes. Deserted and silent at this hour of the day, the coconut groves swayed softly in the breeze as the water lapped across the smooth sand. Today was a glorious day to go for a cycle I decided.
The road around Moorea hugs the coast. Sporadic huts and houses line the seaward side of the road. These are interspersed with stretches of tiny sandy beaches, steep stone covered drop offs, soft grassy sloping banks lapped at their edges by the waters, areas of swamp like mangroves and mud, tall coconut trees singing in the wind. There are no tides within the lagoon as such. The water laps at the coast in gentle movements, pushing sand and shells onto the banks and beaches.
The road is also interspersed by kilometre distance markers on white painted concrete blocks formed in the shape of the Island. They begin at the airport and work their way around the entire Island. Our address is 12.9 Pihaena, which translated as 12.9k from the airport in the district of Pihaena! Simple when you know these things!
As I approached the 16k marker, (the house you will remember is at the 12.9 point) I reached Opunohu Bay, the soft gentle downward slope of the tarmac road making the cycling easy.
Here the water flows in gentle ripples against the curved beach as people gather in their cars or sit upon the concrete benches to play a form of Bowles each afternoon, teenagers gather with their music boxes to sit on the tables, blasting the evening air with loud music, children shriek and laugh as they run in and out of the water their parents watching from the safety of the shore. At 8am however, this, like the beach was quiet and deserted.
I cycled on around the tight curve of the bay, the slight incline on the opposing side now making me work that little bit harder.
Three deserted houses stand back along the road, their gardens neat and tidy compared to the surrounding jungle, but with windows hanging off hinges, doorways open, steps and verandahs broken.
Some cows lift their heads to see who is passing and return to their munching.
I have been driven down this road many times as Pape ferries us to work in Tipaniers or we do the rare excursion to the Post Office to pick up the occasional package, the route is familiar but cycling along it as opposed to driving along it, gives you time to see so much more. Homes do not race past at 50k per hour but are studied as you pass. Greetings are called out as you wave to the people in their tiny stalls selling bananas and papayas from their gardens, dogs come out to look, children stop to stare.
Moorea is also blessed with having one of the flattest roads I have ever had the pleasure to cycle! Two hills exist, one being between the house and Harrys Supermarket, (in the opposite direction to that which I am heading) the other lies outside the Sofie Hotel, a monster by reputation but one I have not yet seen. There is a long generous rise outside the Intercontinental Hotel. I have to stand up on the pedals of my bike, putting my weight into each downward stroke. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, down my back. My breath becomes heavy but this rise is soon overcome. The ride down the other side brings a welcome rest and the sweetest of winds to cool the gathered sweat!
I pass the Tiare Flower Plantation, row upon row of neat bushes cover the area, each one full of the sweet smelling flowers.
In India I had watched with fascination as the ladies picked the tips of the tea bushes, here I paused for a moment to watch different ladies pick the flowers from the shrub like bushes, ready to make …...., what ever it is they make with these flowers! You find them in oils, in perfumes, in garlands and head dresses all over the Island and I am sure they have many more uses.
If the bushes are left, they grow into huge trees, their perfume strong in the evening stillness, more subtle during the day time breeze. Flowers are so plentiful in Moorea that I am becoming as blasé as the locals about picking them for my hair each day.
Back in the UK wild flowers are protected, picking them is against the law, yet here there are just so many, each one only lasts the day, so they are picked and used while their beauty and scent is available.
I cycled on to Tipanier, I speak briefly with the staff, thank then for the safe keeping of the notice board and place it carefully on top of my basket. As I leave the hotel I notice the kilometre sign across the road. 25k.
I was sure that I had read somewhere that the entire island was only 35k around. That meant it was just another 10k to the airport and then 12.9 to the house? I had just done 11k, it would be another 11k back to the house making a total of 22k. Why, I thought to myself, didn't I just keep going and circumnavigate the Island? It was only an extra 13k, it was a nice day for it, I had supplies, the sun was not too hot, I had all day. I turned the bicycle away from the house and began to cycle.
The road became much quieter as I cycled over to the far side of the island, I recognised the Hibiscus Hotel as I passed, I found the only camp site on the Island,
I slipped beneath the cooling shade of the long corridor of trees so reminiscent of the UK. As I passed the Little Village on the far side I realised I was now in territory I had not been to before.
I checked the next marker on the side of the road, 31k, I was nearly to the airport!
I passed bright signs advertising accommodation yet no big hotels or restaurants now lined the roads.
Empty and derelict buildings stood next to pristine pensions built onto the hillside,
restaurants were replaced by residences, shops disappeared as I cycled on.
I passed another marker, 33k. The road swept briefly upwards making me work again as it rose before me.
I paused at the top to look out over the lagoon. Here the edge of the reef seemed a long way off, the water was shallower, no deep channels turning the water a deeper shade of blue like it did outside the house.
No wind at all swept across this side of the island, a heavy stillness enveloped me as I rested. I ate a few dried bananas from my jar, I took a sip of water from my bottle and enjoyed the quiet sounds of the sea. The heat grew around me, even with the overcast sky it was hot, I stowed my goodlies safely back into the basket and began to cycle on.
The down ward slope after the sharp rise brought instant relief from the heat as the breeze whipped past me.
I passed the 35k marker at speed, The airport should not be far now.
The prettiest of churches lay beside the road, I noticed the time, 9.30 am, I was doing well, at this rate I should be home within the hour! I cycled on.
I found no more signs beside the road for a while and yet I cycled on, I found no airport beside the road and yet I cycled on. I was not worried, I was not lost, there is after all only one road on the entire island and it runs along the coast all the way around. Sooner or later I would get there and so I cycled on.
In the distance I spotted a sign beside the road. 24K?? I stopped totally confused!
The Island was 35k around, I had seen the 35k marker, I should be only 12.9 k from home. What did 25k mean, 25k to where, I hadn't passed the airport, I hadn't even seen the ferry terminal yet. I cycled on, not worried as such, but not totally sure of where I was.
I passed a sign that made me smile,
I cycled over a pretty bridge sheltering a tiny boat.
I passed the bus stop,
and discovered the parked buses abandoned on the side of the road.
I passed wonderfully designed tree houses,
and pizza ovens sheltered in peoples gardens yet still I found no airport.
Then I found a sign!! Not just the normal kilometre sign but a map sign. A map of the Island with a big red star stating 'You Are Here'. 'Here' turned out to be no where near where I expected it to be.
I was on the far side of the Island, still miles from where I needed to be. Miles!! The word hit me! Not 35k, 35 MILES!!
It was 35 MILES around the island! I looked at the map beside the road again. There was no point turning back now. To turn around now meant an even greater distance back to the house. I ate another handful of bananas, swallowed another mouthful of water, smiled to myself and got back onto the bike to continue on my way.
The mist was clearing, the sun shone down from the heavens in an unending stream of pure heat. My legs continued their up down movement, my knees had trembled slightly when I had stopped to look at the map but once we were moving again they were holding up well. My bottom on the other hand was in serious need of a cushion! I slid back towards the rear of the seat, I raised one cheek, then the other, I stood up in the peddles but my knees threatened to collapse, I sat down again, clenching and unclenching muscles that have been dormant for a long time!
I rounded a small bay and received the sweetest of cooling breezes into my face as I reached a long stretch on the other side.
My wide brimmed hat pulled at my chin where it was tied in a secure bow as the breeze lifted it from my face. My shirt was pressed against my skin soaking up the moisture from my excursions.
The breeze grew in strength as I continued along the long road.
In the distance across the sea, I could see Tahiti shrouded in cloud, separated from us by 12 miles of water.
The wind now pushed at me as I tried to work my way along the road, the refreshing coolness was replaced by internal heat as I battled my way along. My knees were feeling every peddle stroke, my buttocks every bump in the road.
Yet I couldn't stop, if I stopped now I knew I wouldn't continue. I looked for each marker as I passed counting them down as I went, trying not to think about the additional 12.9 that lay beyond the Airport.
The markers I now concluded counted up both sides from the airport, culminating at the 35k mark on the far side. How foolish I had been to think that they started on one side at 1k and finished at the other on 35k. It has seemed a logical notion in the coolness of the morning but now in the full heat of the day my error was hitting home big time.
I needed to rest, my bottom by now screamed out at me to stop. Two more markers I told myself, two more markers and then the next place you find that sells ice-cream and you can stop. I slid the bike to a halt outside the tiny cafe, holding tight to the handlebars as my knees took my weight.
Slowly and carefully I placed the bike against the tree and even more slowly and carefully I stepped up to the counter. “Glace?” I enquired, “Grand Glace Chocolate si vous play”. “One Big Chocolate ice cream coming up” he replied in clear English. I watched in silence as his wife opened a large freezer, I clung to the counter as she scooped three large rounds into a glass bowl covering the whole thing with squirty cream, chocolate sauce and crushed nuts. I handed over my 400 francs and having taken a huge mouthful before I even left the counter, I went to sit gently on the chairs beside the sea. I ate slowly, savouring every mouthful.
I stretched each leg in turn, rotating ankles, softly rubbing each knee. The breeze now was cooling again, the Glace, refreshing, my knees stopped their protests, my bottom sank into the moulded chair in grateful relief.
I sat for half an hour, watching the tiny cresting waves break over the tops of the stones in front of me. I knew I should get back onto the bike but I just wanted to rest for one more moment. One more moment to sit in the wide moulded plastic chair that supported my tired buttocks, one more moment before I pushed my knees once more into those peddles.
I reluctantly rose and turned away from the sea. I returned my bowl to the counter and with a final handful of dried bananas between my lips I began to peddle.
As I rounded the next corner I spotted the Ferry Terminal, the large boats were tied to the harbour as cars and people thronged the area.
Cars were parked on both sides of the road, peoples gardens were no longer full of trees and flowers but had signs advertising hourly parking rates. Banana and Papaya sellers squeezed tiny stalls into any available space and still I cycled on.
Another bend and I saw the HILL. I must have crossed it upon my arrival in Moorea but I had been so full of the actual arrival and meeting Jan and my Father that I had quite forgotten it. Now it loomed up ahead of me, curving away in the distance hiding its true height from me. I got off the bike and began to push. My knees, after the initial protest, actually began to feel better as I walked. The sweat however broke out the instant I stopped cycling, heat poured over me from the sun, poured out of me from the climb, every pore emptied itself onto my skin. My shirt clung, my hair stuck, my hat felt heavy as I pushed and pushed the bike up that hill.
Having already discovered the road continued its climb around the first bend I now looked at the floor as I walked, I concentrated on each step, not thinking about the next until I took it. One step, one step. The breeze came as a surprise as I reached the brow of the hill, as I looked up the view was an even greater one.
Sunlight reflected off the water in shimmering brilliancy, the blues of the water reflected up with a lustre I had not noticed before. Tiredness was forgotten, aching limbs became silent as I gazed out over the lagoon.
I am not sure how long I stood there just looking, the bike lay abandoned as I stared at the colours, the boat in the distance, the huts upon the water, the peace and tranquillity.
I took another handful of dried bananas noting that my jar was now nearly empty. The airport lay at the bottom of the hill. That meant I had only another 12.9k to go, I had already achieved 60k, I was fortified with beauty, I had dined on chocolate Glace, I could do anything!!
I climbed back onto the bike, put my hand firmly on my head to hold my hat in place and pushed off into the road. I stayed in the middle of the lane daring anyone to overtake me as I thundered down the far side of the hill. Wind pulled at my hat, air raced through my lungs, the speed was exhilarating and I made no attempt to slow the bike down. I sped past a guy in a lorry pulling out onto the road ahead, smiling as I went, I slowed slightly as the road evened out but still made no attempt to peddle. The Airport was passed, as I slowly took up the slack in the chain and began to push down with my legs.
12K to go, 11k to go. I spotted the vets where we had brought Whiskey and Nessie twice a week for three weeks, I stopped briefly to fill my water bottle from the spring source beside the road. I passed the golf club with its manicured lawns and large ponds. I was on the homeward stretch now and renewed energy filled my body. I passed Remys Supermarket and Lucianos, noting that they were both closed. It must be mid day by now I told myself. I cycled on past the shopping complex opposite Le Sud, the streets and shops now familiar and reassuring. The wind that had hampered my route on the far side now encouraged me on, gently blowing me as I dodged the increasing number of pot holes.
The water was only a few feet from the road again, the dark blue of the deeper water contrasting sharply with the pale blue over the sands. I cycled smiling, I cycled happy, I had not planned this day quite the way it had progressed but I had done it, I had cycled around the Island.
I stopped at The Kaveka Restaurant where we sing on a Tuesday. I locked up the bike and stepped inside onto the cooling verandah. I washed briefly in the rest rooms, pulled my hair from my face and tied it back into a bun, I willed my knees together as I walked down to the restaurant and ordered a huge Chocolate ice-cream.
I had spent nearly £7 on two Ice-creams during the day but I didn't care. I had 4k left to go, I had the 'Hill' to climb but I felt no fear. It was a trip I had completed many a times now. I trip I knew could be done in ten minutes with a bit of effort. I had all afternoon. I studied the books on the bookcase by reception, chose one at random and returned to my chair. My chair of moulded plastic, a chair that did not even hint at the comfort it could bring to muscles that has been bumped and shaken over miles of highway. I placed my feet on the balcony wood and for half an hour I lost myself into the pages of 'The Delightful Garden'.
It was sweltering hot when I left The Kaveka. The sun was overhead, the wind none existent. I wheeled my trusty stead to the bottom of the front drive and went to get on, my knees buckled as I tried to peddle up the slope to the road. I got off and pushed it the final 10m to the road. On the level ground I tried again, easing my legs back into their regular movement, by the time I reached Harrys Supermarket they were ready for the 'Hill'.
I will admit that I did not cycle all the way up the 'Hill' that day. I made it ¾ of the way and then my knees simple couldn't do it. I got off and slowly pushed the bike up the last 100m. The ride back down the other side was wonderful. Once again I held onto my wide brimmed straw hat as I flew down the middle of the road, once again I glided along until the very last moment, until we had virtually come to a halt before I pushed once again into those peddles.
1k to go. I past Jan Price's house and pulled into her driveway determined to share my exhilaration with someone. The car was not there, the house lay silent so I pushed on the final 200m to the bottom of our driveway. The climb up the drive is tortuously steep. I have trained the dogs to pull me up when we return from our walks. This time there were no dogs, only me and my resilient bike. We reached the crest of the driveway and dogs came bounding out to greet me, jumping and wiggling around my feet. I was hot, I was sweaty and dusty but they loved me just the same. I called hello to Pape as I walked past his windows. I parked the bike outside my door and unloaded my belongings from the basket. The dogs waited expectantly for their biscuits, calm now after my initial enthusiastic greeting.
I grabbed a handful of their treats and dutifully handed them out. I closed the door, stripped off my dusty, sweaty clothes where I stood and walked unsteadily to the bathroom. I turned the shower on full and stood with my hands braced against the wall, letting the water wash away my fatigue.
35 MILES!!! I have never cycled more than 10 miles maximum before now! I had cycled ALL the way around the Island of Moorea! In 6 Hours!!
Megan, you are inspirational, I love you xxx
I have now cycled around the Island 4 times!! Once with Jean Roach, once more alone and today with Ric Welch!
ReplyDeleteToday we did it in 5 hours and that included an Ice cream stop, a supermarket and apple consumption stop, a photos and recovery stop at the top of THE HILL, a water refill stop, plus a pre Harry Hill breather!!
Legs are good, buttocks are firming, Tipanier and back is now easy stuff!!
round the Island is now a weekly event!!