December 29th 2011 and I am back in Moorea AND it is raining again!!!
In fact it is not so much raining as in precipitation from the heavens, it is raining more like sheet water from a waterfall as the depression that is covering the whole of French Polynesia empties the contents of the Bristol Channel daily onto the Island!
We arrived at the airport to 28 degrees and rain but it was a warm muggy rain and after the day of flying we didn't mind.
We were collected by a tiny lady holding a 'Lola' name card and taken to the Lola Pension for the night where we slept soundly in the tropical heat while the rain continued to fall outside. Our ferry journey to Moorea itself was taken under a threatening sky but no rain actually fell until we were safely in the Island bus that circumnavigated this volcanic mound each time the ferry arrives, depositing its cargo as it goes.
We climbed the driveway to Papes house in a heat that brought a sweat to the brow and trickles down the back bone in a matter of seconds, but still the sun refused to come out from behind the clouds. We greeted and unpacked, we showered and and sprang leaks again in the humid air.
We drove the 3k to Jans where we were waved to a stop as she grabbed her camera to record our moment of arrival.
Inside we received the traditional garland of flowers of welcome,
we caught up with news, yet still the sun remained stubbornly behind the clouds.
Home was established with food stocks from Are,
(we bought essencial stuff only!!)
plans were made for New Year, the bikes were brought out of hibernation.
At 5pm, a time that I should have known better, I stood watching as Peter re-pumped the tires so that we could go for a quick ride to the Opuhnou Bay and back.
Mosquitoes swarmed around his legs, took bites out of the small gap between shorts and T-shirt, fed upon arms as they moved around the bikes. We eventually made it to Opuhnou Bay looking out over the black sand. We called into Micheles house to say hello to the Meech's and were invited for lunch the following Thursday. We stopped by the Public Beach to paddle in the warm clear water, the soft golden coral sand swirling between our toes.
We stopped to say Hi to Vava, Tom and Temai, staying longer than planned as we caught up with 6 months worth of news. By the time we left it was dark as there are no street lights on this side of the island and the moon was hidden behind a layer of thick cloud. The darkness was the sort of engulfing mountain top darkness that swallows you whole into a void of nothingness. I had also left the head torches at home! As I peddled away down the road, Peter called that he couldn't see where he was going. I called back that I knew the road well and to just follow me, to which he replied that he couldn't see me any better than he could see the road!!
As Peter undressed that night the full extent of his brief exposure to the flying beasties of Moorea during the 'feeding hour' became apparent. Huge welts and lumps covered his lower legs, redness spread like a band across his back where they has found the bare flesh above his shorts. I too had a few bites but after so many months in India, New Zealand and now here, my immune system quickly suppressed any adverse reaction. Peters system had no such back up plan and his whole body had reacted with alarming results. His flesh became swollen, the prickling itchiness drove him mad and it was with huge apologies for bringing him to this wet, beastie filled country that we retired to bed!!
Moorea Lesson No 1 - Never venture outside with any exposed flesh between the hours of 5pm and 6pm!
The next morning the weather was a little better as we cycled to Are's Store for fresh bread. Sweat spilt out over our bodies as we climbed the hill between the house and the shop.
We called briefly at Jan's to recover before tackling the long return journey. The slow never ending climb back up the other side of Are's Hill saw more fluids seeping into our already damp clothing and it was with relief that we reached the house to stand under the refreshing solar heated shower.
The rains returned as the day progressed, mosquitoes danced outside the mesh of the windows eager for new blood.
When I was here last Pape and I made a day bed, a bed to relax in during the heat of the day, a bed to gaze at the blue lagoon from, a bed to read in. This bed is more than adequate for one small person, it is great even for one large person. One large and one small (but growing bigger each day!!) person also fit upon its width but the large person has to shiggle up a bit and without realising it placed their bare shoulder against the mesh as they rest from the heat of the day.
One hour later, deprived of enough blood to feed the entire outside population of flying beasties Peter awoke from the morning excursions only to find his entire shoulder a mass of swelling redness where the 'Plague of the Island' had fed on it through the mesh! Alterations were made to the position of the day bed and soothing cream was rubbed into the hideous wounds, while plasters and alcohol were placed upon the now open wounds, received the evening before, upon his legs!
It rained on and off all the day. Unperturbed we drove around the island in Papes white van (once we had free-ed it from the clinging mud above Papes house where I parked it the night before!) getting out between the showers to gaze at the view. At the tiny beach where Lisa and I had gathered coral for one of our mobiles Peter spotted a Black Tip close to the shore. A few moments later a Spotted Ray meandered past, then another shark! In the space of ten minutes we spotted three Black Tips, the Ray plus we were busily identifying the myriad of other fish in the vicinity as the sun briefly poured its rays upon the lagoon and sea!
Our tour continued, we passed the schools, the churches, the fire station. The story of Club Med was told, the closed boutiques sighed over.
Familiar places were passed, hotels where I had sung the year before pointed out and it was a better understanding of what my life had been like, that Peter and I returned to Papes house.
That night the rain continued to pour, the ground filled with water, waterfalls poured from the overflows, the earth turned to mush as we nested in our little place beneath Papes main house. This was the Moorea I has arrived to 18 months before and one that I didn't want to remember!
New Years Eve was a wonderful affair at Jan's house over in Pao-pao.
She had made her speciality chocolate cake, rich and dark, I had made the first course of courgettes with goats-cheese and salad, Pape made his famous Fruit Salad.
We ate and drank, we laughed about the way Peter dwarfed Pape in his chair.
Peters upper body is huge, while Papes legs are incredibly long. Although they are the same heigh when standing, when sitting they look totally different!
The evening was warm, the rain fell beyond the limits of the wide verandah, stories were caught up on, New Zealand wine was consumed.
New years day was dry! The sun shone out between the broken clouds, huge boats cruised past just outside the reef heading for Cooks Bay!
The bikes were unlocked and re-checked. Towels were packed, snorkels were attached to masks, water bottles were filled and the Plague De Publique was found.
The tall coconuts trees swayed in the breeze. Families spread picnics over the land, ball games and swimmers surrounded us as I dropped the house keys into the nearest Tupa Hole!!!!!
I stared in dismay at the hole fully aware of what lived beneath the surface and too afraid to place my hand inside to feel around for the dropped key. My hero husband however still did not fully understand the armoured, pincer wheeling, stiletto heeled rodent that stalked the lower levels and with a flourish forced his hand into the hole, fished around and retrieved the keys!!
These were then placed safely inside the camera case as we made our way into the 28 degree warm tropical water. The sun shone down as we drifted happily in the warm sea. My shoulder, still sore despite my daily consumption of concentrated oil and anti-inflammatories, was stretched as I manoeuvred my way around the coral outcrops. Fish of all sizes and colours drifted with us, unafraid, always out of reach but so, so close!
We lay in the shallow water faces raised towards the heavens as the sun beat down between the broken cloud, we returned to the cooling sea each time heat overcame us. We lazed and we swam and I left my hat on the bike!
Moorea Lesson No. 2 Never leave your face exposed to tropical sun for more than 10 mins at a time!
My nose began to prickle, my cheeks felt tight beneath their coating of salt. Peter remarked that I looked a little red across the brow. The hat was put on but it was too late!
That evening as we sat in the house, the rain once more pouring from the sky, Peter replaced the alcohol soaked plasters and soothed cooling cream into his bites, while I smothered my face with after-sun and wondered if the growing, glowing, redness would distract sailors from the illuminated red beacons that marked the way into the bay!!!
Moorea Lesson No 3 - Life in Moorea is not always smooth!!!
Peter and I in Moorea - At the Hilton to watch the sun set but with a rather red nose!!!!
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