Like most of the Society Islands, Moorea is the top of a long extinct volcano, blanketed in lush, tropical greenery. All around the island there is a protective ring of barrier reef broken only where passes flush out the lagoon which lies between the reef and shore.
We spent our first night at a campsite where the guidebook had been less than kind in its appraisal. Our bungalow was basic but as close to the turquoise waters of the lagoon as was possible without actually being in the water.
In the morning, we strained under the weight of full packs while walking the 25 minutes to our new place. The Mato Tea bungalows looked fantastic. Ours was about ten yards from the tiny stretch of sand that was the beach and a fallen coconut palm lent out over the water, making the whole scene picture postcard perfect!
We soon hit the beach and took to the water which was knee deep for a good 50 yards before gradually shelving off to a sudden, dark blue drop 100 yards out. Beneath the gentle waves of the lagoon, assorted butterfly fish flitted in and out of spiny coral fingers. Florescent blue and pink Parrotfish sped past and fat fin-tailed Trevallys patrolled the deeper water.
There was a perfect sunset to end the day and I cooked for the first time in three months, watched by geckos which sat patiently in the rafters near a bear lightbulb, patiently waiting for their own meal of plump, furry moths to arrive.
We woke in the morning to find that we'd had a hungry visitor in the night. Several serrated chunks had been taken out of the apples and peaches in the fruitbowl and, for the main course, whatever the culprit was, had chomped away at my notebook, pad and our precious guidebook!
We hired some bikes and I bought a Pareau (sarong to the uninitiated) and subsequently wafted round the bungalow enjoying the circulating cool breeze. That night, the hungry creature gained confidence, judging by the scuttling noises coming from the kitchen. Armed with a ladle, we tipped the fridge and Alex found herself face to face with a small rat. He didn't seem at all concerned by our presence and he wasn't bothering us so we left him there and went back to bed.
After a previous days' cycling, we decided to tour the island and the pain in our butts was almost unbearable when we saddled up! We cycled round to Opunohu Bay where Captain Cook landed in 1769. The bay was the setting for much of the filming of the Mel Gibson version of Mutiny on the Bounty and it was easy to see why the location had been chosen. All around was jaw droppingly beautiful scenery, from the crystal clear water of the bay rising up to the lush and overgrown jagged peaks of the ancient crater ring, piercing the steamy white clouds floating on the deep blue sky.
After stopping to rest and admire the magnificence of the bay, we re-mounted and, passing scores of scuttling crabs along the roadside, carried on the neighbouring Cook's Bay. Once more, we were awestruck by its beauty. By now it was mid afternoon and we were hot, sweaty and sore - to think that we'd planned to do a complete 60km circut of the island, we'd barely got a fifth of the way!
In the night, we played host to more nocturnal visitors. THe usual geckos were hanging out and chewing errant moths. Unfortunately, while we were sat reading, a huge rat appeared, rather noisily, in the topmost rafters. If this wasn't enough, a wild-eyed, crazy cat appeared at the patio door from out of the darkness. Sporting what appeared to be a gnarled, candyfloss stump for a tail, it's bug-eyed stare didn't put Alex off and she treated it to a couple of saucers of milk which it lapped greadliy down, anxiously glancing into the darkness between slurps. Almost as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone. Next day, we saw it lying dead at the side of the road and I immediately tried to remember if I'd rinsed the milk dish thoroughly.
We spent an afternoon at the beach (where else?) and languished under light but grey cloud. There wasn't a breath of wind and the water level in the laggon had dropped by at least three feet, exposing the tops of coral outcrops. I waded out to the place that marked the limit of my usual explorations, just in front of a deep blue stretch that was the edge of the reef. Feeling brave, I inched towards the abyss, Wow! The reef did drop into the depths alright but there, right infront of me were at least 30 different species of fish, hanging suspended in the lagoon. Angelfish, Lonbeaks, Parrotfish, Butterflyfish and many more, all colours, shapes and sizes hung below me, suspended like a moblie in a childs bedroom. I called Alex over and we made several excursions out over the reef edge, marveling at the unbelievable beauty of the scene.
Not deterred by the pain in our derriers, we re-hired bikes and headed for the Belvedere LOokout which was supposed to have excellent views of Opuhuno and Cook's Bays with Mt. Rotui rising imperiously betwen the two.
It took about half an hour to cycle to the turnoff and a good hour of pushing our bikes up a series of steep switchbacks to reach the top. Although pouring with sweat and exhausted, the view more than made up for our exertions. We had the lookout to ourselves before the first of the day's tour groups arrived in 4WD's... softies!
The descent from the lookout was far easier, freewheeling for ages until we rejoined the main road. It was now blisteringly hot so we cooled off back at the beach. After getting slightly burnt and severly bitten, we found there was a price to pay for staying in paradise.
That wasn't the only thing that came at a price. At each end of the spectrum, the cost of things was incredible. In an estate agent's window in Papeete there was an ad depicting a small motu (island), yours for only 94 million quid! At the other end of the scale, a carrier bag at the supermarket would set you back a staggering 27p - this really isn't a budget destination!
There was a terrible high wind in the night (which had absolutely nothing to do with us having chickpea curry two nights on the trot!), which continued well into the next morning. Sat having breakfast, idly flicking through the Island Guide brochure, I came across the diabolically named Satan's Taxis, I kid you not! I imagine that, for the standard fare of one soul, you could be taken on a hellish tour of the island (!)
So far, we'd spent the majority of our time in the North West quarter of the island. WE knew we'd regret leaving without seeing the rest of Moorea, so we hired a car for four hours. WE underestimated the size of the island however and managed two complete circuts, clockwise and anticlockwise, with an hour to spare, and that included stopping on the way round to take pictures!
After spending our last day on the beach, we checked out early to make the transfer to the airport where we'd catch the plane to our next destination... Huahine, The Savage Island!!!
charlie
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