Blue Cloud "Power Co": French Polynesia: Merci and Mauruuru!

Back to the US at LAX, and we can read all the signage.

On our whirlwind trip to the southern hemisphere, we felt sadly left behind by knowing only one language. Many travelers we met were proficient in multiple languages, which is an asset we greatly admire and desire. After departing NZ we had a few days in French Polynesia to sit on the beach and relax. It was quite exciting trying to navigate amongst all the French and Tahitian signage and verbal instructions. Bill's childhood in northern Maine (Acadian territory) helped out in the French department, and he could pick up some of the vital bits...although usually inappropriately timed, after some reflection, when it was too late for it to be useful in conversation; but he impressed me with the random stuff he came up with. (We bought Rosetta Stone in the airport on our way home; we'll see if it lives up to all the hype--we're optimistic.)

While in French Polynesia, we spent a few days between Tahiti and it's dramatic, mountainous neighbor Moorea. One night while camping on Moorea's beach, it was quite peaceful until a bird in the coconut tree above us crapped onto our screen door and it splattered all over Bill's face. I woke up to him laughing.

Beach in Moorea, near bird poo incident.

A definite highlight was snorkeling off of Moorea's northwest coast among the Tahitian sting rays. Some of these graceful gliders were up to 4 feet across. They just floated by you, sometimes sliding against your skin with their slimy captivating sea wings. We shared our boat with three women from China who couldn't swim. They jumped out of the boat in bright orange life jackets to snorkel in the 4-foot deep sea. It was hilarious to listen to them shriek when a ray glided by. Hilarious, that is, until I turned to talk with Bill, who had touched my leg... only it was not his hand but a ray's wing. Then I was screaming right along with the buoyed Asian tourists. The rays are gentle but terrifyingly alien up close. There were also Blacktipped reef sharks milling about, but they seemed to have no interest in us.

The night life in Papeete, French Polynesia's capital, proved to be hugely satisfying. Self-contained food vans and buses loaded the wharf after dark. We stuffed ourselves on grilled skewers of fresh tuna and swordfish, topped off with crepes filled with nutella and fresh pineapple. The food was an interesting blend representing Polynesian, Asian and French influences. A little group of folks with guitars and ukuleles entertained us while we ate.

Looking toward Moorea.

Outrigger canoe paddling away into the sunset.

Today, when we stepped of the plane and into LAX customs, the shouting, impatient TSA agents made for a cold, stark contrast to the warm welcome we'd had on the islands. "Well, we're not getting any (bleep)-ing ukuleles here," wryly and succinctly-spoken by my favorite travel companion.