Paul had told us about a trip that it was possible to wangle one’s way onto, out to the airport motu. He strongly recommended it, telling us one got a beautiful view, and it had the additional attraction of being free. All one had to do was stand outside the Air Polynesie office at the appropriate hour, + look as if one was catching a plane. So this was how we intended to spend our afternoon. We hitched into town late morning, + even after visiting the post office etc still had time to kill before visiting the doctor at 11.30. However, we only managed to make the nurse angry by visiting then, since it seemed the 11.30 till 2 heures du visite were visiting hours for the hospital section rather than surgery hours. However, she agreed to admit Dave + I… + then unleashed her anger upon our sores with a vicious use of the swab. Dave was also given a prescription for cream + antibiotics – the poor lad certainly is in an appalling way.
A couple more hours to kill then, tho’ – we read + wrote postcards, + watched an extremely lively + skilful game of football on the basketball court. We ambled over to Air Polynesie at more or less the appropriate time, + must have looked sufficiently like air travellers, since we were let on without any questions asked. Tho’ I suspect the real reason for that is that they just didn’t care. The bus took us to the quay, + from there we all took a smallish and in want of a lick of paint motor launch out to the airport. The journey was alright, but not at all spectacular, tho’ we didn’t have a particularly good seat. Then, out on the motu, we all felt totally drained of energy. Dave + I did make it out to the end of the pier to take a photograph, but Val just hobbled into the departure lounge + took out a book. So, we weren’t really in any condition to appreciate the place, but it really wasn’t anything special, so we were more than happy to head straight back in on the boat. In fact, we decided to give Paul a biff on the arse for recommending a trip to Dullsville, Arizona.
For the evening’s entertainment, seeing as this was our last night on Bora Bora, we decided to treat ourselves to a meal out. We spent some time cruising + comparing the restaurants around Vaitape, but decided in the end to hitch back to the Chinese restaurant near the camp-site, while it was still light, + so save ourselves the problem of getting home afterwards. Unfortunately, at least to my mind, the meal was both expensive + not very nice. For some reason, we forgot to do what one nearly always does in a Chinese restaurant + order several dishes, plus rice, + share them around. Consequently, we had just one dish each, + mine was nothing wonderful. Ah well. Even so, it made a pleasant change to eat out. And afterwards there was Yum chez Davide.
Not sure what a motu is – and clearly didn’t feel the need to explain it – so have to assume it is a sort of sand bank or whatever on which sat the island’s airport. And in general the trip sounds like a flop, though we did feel the need to vary our island routine. Likewise, though more expensive, the meal – we had far more satisfying times around the camp-fire. And that is an aspect of our life then that I do miss; there is something very special about fires, and when they are also vital to preparing food, all the better. Something primeval about staring into the flames, something mankind has always done.
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