We are on a train from Paris to Aix-Les Bains. This train is full of dragon boat paddlers!

Yesterday, for our last day in Paris, I wanted to get out of our immediate neighborhood. Mary suggested that we walk to a nearby area that had a large park, including possibly a petting zoo. But I wanted to go further. I wanted to take the Metro. I wanted to go to the Left Bank, which I remembered fondly from when I was last in Paris, 41 years ago.

Mary agreed, but was dubious and did not enjoy all the walking and up and down stairs to get to the Metro. I loved the whole thing – I love riding subways when they are not crowded. When we emerged at our stop, Chatalet, we were in a square with tons of shops and places to eat. We went into a boulangerie, where I got a quiche and Mary got a chocolate eclair. Then we set off for our destination, Shakespeare and Company bookstore, which I had picked because my fond memory was of stopping at a used book stall along the Left Bank, and picking up the first book in English that I saw, which was a novel by William Trevor, who became one of my favorite writers. (I also bought Kramer vs Kramer in French and managed to read the first page and a half.)

Not surprisingly, everything was different from what I remembered. We crossed the Seine and I wandered among the booths selling art and old books. It all felt very tourist trappy. We also happened upon a lovely park, and Notre Dame, which was beautiful, with lines of people snaked along the courtyard. We took a few pictures and moved on. We passed a Catholic Church which we went inside. It was not at all crowded and was beautiful. Mary wanted to light a candle for her mother, but unfortunately, we had no cash because I had not yet been able to locate an ATM. Mary was getting tired and we had walked quite a bit, following my phone GPS, which has been far from accurate here. Also, I was getting increasingly cranky, though I wasn’t aware of it. At some point I realized we were heading in the wrong direction and we had passed the street that Shakespeare and Co was on long ago. We turned around, got to the street the bookstore was on and immediately recognized it by the long line of people waiting to get in. Silly me thought no one would be there because no one reads anymore.

The line of people made me crankier, still, and I didn’t want to even go near the line. So we walked back to the Boulangerie where I had lunched and Mary had sugared, and Mary got a sandwich for lunch. I fretted about ice cream because I wanted to have the best ice cream in Paris and it wasn’t where we were. Mary kept trying to make suggestions of other ice cream I could have and I was basically like a toddler, saying, “No, I don’t know anything about that ice cream and it gets 2 stars on Google.” Eventually, Mary stopped trying to assuage her toddler wife and we took an Uber back to the hotel. On the way we passed the park Mary had originally suggested. It looked really nice and I was annoyed that we hadn’t done what she suggested in the first place.

It took me a couple hours to realize that despite my declaration that I would live in the moment on this trip and have no set expectations, I had spent the whole day trying to recreate experiences from over 40 years ago, and that I needed a serious attitude adjustment.

By this morning, I had made the adjustment. I had breakfast at the Hyatt, where we had been complaining that it was all kind of mediocre, but I didn’t try to eat what I imagined you are supposed to eat when you are in France. I had been suffering greatly from a lack of vegetables, so I had a salad with steamed salmon, yogurt with fresh fruit, a cup of tea, and some whole grain bread and cheese. It was a wonderful breakfast.

Below is a picture of Mary and me in front of the beautiful garden. It wasn’t until that evening that we saw I was flipping off the camera, completely unaware, but totally indicative of my lousy mood. 🙂

Yesterday we woke up around 6:30 and went to a nearby boulangerie, where Mary got a croissant and un cafe noisette, which is a tiny shot of espresso with just a splash of milk. Noisette means hazelnut and this boisson (drink) does not have hazelnut in it, but the milk makes it the color of hazelnut. Also, this is a very tiny drink. We knew that some French coffee drinks are tiny, from watching The Intern (La Stagiare) on PBS. In this French show, the prosecutors often meet at the coffee machine, and hold eensy weeny cups of cafe.

Mary stayed at the boulangerie to enjoy her petit dejeuner, and I went back to the hotel and took a shower in the cray cray bathroom. Then we went to the breakfast buffet at the hotel. A waiter led us to our seats, which involved a long and circuitous route to the farthest back corner of the restaurant. At first I thought it was because we look like riffraff, but later we thought perhaps they put all the Americans back there. The atmosphere was cheap cruise ship buffet, very crowded and loud. There was a large, varied selection of mostly mediocre food, but I enjoyed the fruit and yogurt and my tea with oat milk.

After breakfast we came back to our room where I wrote yesterday’s two posts, and then around 1 pm, we headed out towards the Uniqlo store. This is a huge multinational clothing store that I read about in the New Yorker years ago and have always been interested in. We had agreed that we would stop for lunch on the way to the store, but as so often happens, we had different ideas of what that would look like.

To be fair, it took me forever to get ready to leave the hotel and Mary was starving. So her idea was that we choose a place to eat within a block or two of the hotel. My idea was that we wander and check menus and find the BEST place to eat. I was allowed to look at three menus before Mary said we must pick a place. One option was pricey and there was a woman sitting outside smoking endless cigarettes, so I opted for the other place. They had a special on the blackboard that was some sort of beef with hollandaise sauce, French fries and a salad. Mary said, “Maybe we can share that,” and I nodded, noncommittally I thought, and looked at the plastic menu we had also been given. Before I could read anything, the waiter came and closed my menu, pointed to the blackboard, told us the beef was very good, and Mary said, “Okay, we’ll have that,” and the waiter nodded and walked away.

I began to fret because I really dislike mayonnaise and butter, and I was not going to be able to bear the hollandaise sauce, and I didn’t even get to look at the menu . . . When the food came the hollandaise was on the side, and the steak was very tasty. The salad was swimming in dressing and I could only manage a few bites, and the fries were not worth spending my calories on, but the waiter was personable and fun to watch, and all was well.

After lunch we continued on to the Uniqlo store where I bought a nice warm, snuggly hoody which I have been wearing ever since. Mary was looking for shorts because her pre-packing resulted in her thinking she had packed things she hadn’t, and she arrived with only the one pair of shorts she wore on the plane. Alas, she didn’t find what she needed at Uniqlo.

We headed back the way we came and stopped at a place called Pierre Hermé, where we had seen a little cart with interesting ice cream flavors. The cart was outside the store and a woman came outside and scooped chocolate for Mary and strawberry/coconut for me. Both were delicious. Afterwards I kept thinking that Pierre Herme sounded familiar. I found it on a spreadsheet where we had written places we might want to visit. According to one YouTube video, it has the best macarons in France. And we never set foot inside.

Next, Mary went back to the hotel and I doubled back to a grocery store called Monoprix. I enjoy wandering grocery stores and pharmacies in other countries, and I was also looking for good takeout food. There was clothing in the part of the store I entered, and it took me awhile to find the actual groceries, but eventually I did, wandered the aisles and then left without buying anything. When I left a security guard stopped me and said, in English, “What are you doing?” I gave him a quizzical look and he pointed to the hoodie draped over my arm and said, “Did you pay for that?”

“Oh, I didn’t buy that here,” I said.

“Where did you buy it?” He glared at me throughout this conversation. He had kind of half-glared at me when I entered the store and greeted him with Bonjour.

“I got it at Uniqlo,” I said and showed him the tag.

When he finally saw it was from Uniqlo he continued to glare and said, “Okay. You should not have gone in there.”

I nodded and said, “How do I get out of here?” Because the answer to his earlier question of what I was doing was trying to get out of this store. He looked at me like I was a moron and pointed to the exit.

This is how, in the approach to this trip, I worried all my Paris encounters would be as I had read that Parisians are impatient with people who don’t speak French AND annoyed when tourists try to speak French but have a very limited vocabulary. However, most of our encounters have been delightful and they have appreciated our attempts to communicate in French.

After being banished from Monoprix, I went to a pharmacy where I was in search of elderberry syrup for immunity. Mary wasn’t able to wear her mask on either of the planes or in the airport, and she has a tendency to get sick when we travel, so I wanted to keep us both healthy. I had tried to find it in the mall pharmacy on Friday and nobody seemed to know what I was talking about when I pointed to the word in my Google Translate.

The pharmacy on Avenue des Ternes was very small and looked like it might specialize in natural remedies. There was one woman working there and when I explained what I wanted she turned and called to what I thought was the back of the store, but then another, very stylish, woman came down some stairs I hadn’t seen. They had a brief discussion in French, and then the stylish woman turned to me and said, in English, “You want what?” I pointed to my Google Translate. She laughed and said, “Ah! In France that is only for children,” and then began picking up various bottles and discussing them with her colleague. This took a long time and I considered asking if they carried the elderberry for children, but eventually, the stylish woman handed me a bottle labeled Immun, explained the ingredients to me, which included Reishi and Cordyceps and sounded good to me, so I bought it. At the counter I noticed a book for sale and on the cover was a picture of Stylish Woman, so who knows, maybe she is a famous natural remedy person in Paris.

Back at the room we had cheese and bread and crackers and carrots for dinner, and then we watched the Portland Fire game from Friday. Actually I slept through the first three quarters since I seem to have developed narcolepsy since we got here, but being awake for the fourth quarter was enough.

I was extremely irritable and pretty bitchy to my wife yesterday, which I felt very bad about and apologized for profusely. I think I was frustrated because it seems like we’re not doing much. But Paris is not the centerpiece of this trip. Paris is how we get to Aix-Les-Bains, and as Mary pointed out we are having all sorts of interesting encounters with people.

This morning we went to a new boulangerie and had croissants and un cafe crème for Mary, which was slightly bigger than yesterday’s cafe noisette. Mary ordered by saying, “Bonjour. Un cafe crème and deux croissants, s’il vous plait.” The young woman asked her a question in French and Mary turned around and looked at me wildly. I asked the woman to repeat and she said, in English, “Do you want this for here?” I said, “Oui,” and laughed and Mary and the woman laughed, and it was a nice encounter.

Edit from Mary: Most of the time, people hear our American-accented French and respond to us in English – often a simple “Bonjour” is all it takes to elicit l’anglais in response. I have come to rely on this, so the woman at the bolangerie responding to my bad French in French threw me into a panic. Thank God Lis was there to save me!

Very early in my planning I made a reservation for 3 nights at the Hyatt Regency Etoile, using Chase Sapphire points. I chose a room with a view of the Eiffel Tower, knowing that it lights up at night. For the first night I figured we would stay in an airport hotel so we could just go there quickly and take a nap. But the more I read about the CDG airport hotels – basically crappy reviews and not necessarily quick to get there – the more I thought maybe we should just go directly into Paris.

After practically a year of trying to figure out our first night plan, I used more points to reserve a room at the Hotel Balzac. The reservation included early check-in and late check-out, $100 hotel credit, welcome gift, and breakfast. I was particularly taken with the early check-in, because, despite what everyone says about jet lag, we have always done best if we just go to sleep for a few hours wherever we go.

When our cab pulled up, we were greeted by an employee, dressed in a black morning coat, who whisked our luggage up the stairs. We went to the front desk and were told that our room would be ready in an hour, so we walked around and had lunch at an Italian sandwich shop, then went back to the hotel where we waited another hour for our room to be ready. Mary was extremely cranky – “I thought they had early check-in” – and at the end of the wait we were both asleep on the couch, which I’m sure they appreciated.

But we did get an early check-in. A young man took us to our room, which was one of only two rooms with a private terrace, and showed us all the amenities. There was a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. The bathroom was gorgeous and included a large sink and a heated towel rack. We slept for a few hours. I woke up first and took the most amazing shower. The water pressure was perfect and the amenities by Diptyque smelled wonderful and were very high quality. We both especially enjoyed the hand lotion – I took a little bit in a bottle I had, but we plan to buy more to bring home, when we find a Diptyque store.

The room was a little cold and dark, so I got back into bed in the provided bathrobe. Around 5:30 we ordered room service – a hamburger and a salad – which the young man set up on the table on our patio. Before I could even get outside it started to rain, so we ate our dinner at the end of the bed. We were asleep by 8:30 pm. The bed and sheets were SO comfortable and we both slept about 9 hours. In the morning, around 6 am, we walked over to the Arc de Triomphe, or, more accurately the street across from the Arc de Triomphe. There were multiple lanes of non-stop traffic which we would have died trying to cross. I think there was a way to get there underground, but Mary didn’t want to go underground, so she took some photos from across the street. There were no pedestrians around and nothing was really open, except McDonald’s. I was curious about the McDonalds menu and went inside. They had a very fancy display of pastries, but I couldn’t look at the menu, because the touchscreen seemed to require an ID.

We walked back to the hotel and had a spectacular breakfast in their parlor. There were multiple courses, beginning with assorted pastries and breads (possibly the best croissant either of us has ever had), un boisson chaud (hot beverage), and juice. Next came scrambled eggs for Mary and an omelette for me. Third, we each got a huge fruit plate with perfect mango and pineapple, strawberries, a lingonberry, blueberries and blackberries. I mixed my fruit with a delicious plain yogurt. (I love that at both hotels so far, the yogurt is plain. I am always so disappointed in vanilla yogurt.) There were two more courses, a plate of cold cuts and a selection of mature cheeses, but they never brought that to us, which was fine because we were both quite full. I’d say this was in my top three breakfasts of all time.

Edit from Mary: 100% agree – that bread was so amazing that I am advocating for going back for breakfast Monday on our way to Aix-les-Bains!

Back in the room I slept more. Then we packed, checked out at 1, and took an Uber to our next stop, the Hyatt. The Champs Elysee, where we had walked earlier, was now teeming with tourists – we were pleased that we had had it all to ourselves.

I was looking forward to the Hyatt because the room looked bigger in the picture online than our quite small Balzac room, and because it is a huge conference hotel so people would be paying less attention to us. We always feel a bit like riffraff in the fancy hotels.

One thing I had been anxious about was communicating with people in Paris. I had read they don’t like it when Americans try to speak French and that they get annoyed very quickly. This was not the case at the Hotel Balzac, nor at the Hyatt, where our room was ready immediately – yahoo! The woman who checked us in told me breakfast was included in the rate. This was a pleasant surprise to me. I hadn’t paid extra for breakfast.

Our room has a great view of the Eiffel Tower, which was wonderful last night when it got dark, and the tower lit up, next to a bright moon. Unfortunately, spending our first night at the most luxurious hotel we’ve ever been in, would set us up for disappointment anywhere else, although that’s not quite the right word, because we’re still very happy. However, this is the worst designed hotel room I’ve ever been in. It turns out I was looking at the wrong picture on the Hyatt website. This room is actually smaller than our room at the Balzac. One side of the bed has the reading light and the other side has the bedside table. I have a tiny very low ledge I can barely fit my CPAP machine on, but Mary helped me fashion my suitcase into a secondary bedside table. The bed is comfortable and the room is sunny. However the bathroom is a little cray cray. There are no towel racks and no place to hang anything. The shower is in a very narrow bathtub that is about two feet tall. The drains (in both the shower and the sink) don’t drain well, so I stood in two inches of water and the shower curtain stuck to me as I was showering. There’s also no nightlight so getting to the bathroom in the middle of the night involved touching every surface as I felt my way to the toilet. I washed some clothes this morning but there is nowhere to hang them. (Mary said, “Did you see there’s a clothesline in here?”referring to the line the shower curtain hangs on. It is about 8 feet high!!! She is tall enough that she was able to hang a shirt there, but it’s definitely not a clothesline.)

I will finish this by attempting to post some photos and in the next one I will tell you about our day yesterday, which did not involve any Paris sightseeing.

This is our third morning in Paris, but the first time I’ve been able to blog because I have been so tired and mostly asleep. We left Portland on Wednesday morning, after spending the night at the Portland Airport Radisson hotel. We had to be in the lobby at 4:40 am, which meant waking up at 3:45 am, after going to sleep a little after midnight.

This post is going to be all about getting here, so if you are not interested in airport adventures, you can just wait for the next post. We have a very pricey Chase Sapphire Reserve credit card, which I can’t give up because I love the Chase Sapphire airport lounges. Fortunately, I am very good at wringing every last benefit out of the card, and it certainly paid off on the way to Paris.

Our first flight, to JFK, left at 7 am, but because we got to the airport so early, we were able to go to the Escape Lounge first, where Mary had some breakfast. I planned to have breakfast but wasn’t hungry yet, and suddenly it was time to board. The flight was very fast – 4.5 hours, comfortable (though freezing cold), and uneventful, other than the turbulence in the last 30 minutes, which I barely noticed, but which left Mary nauseous for the majority of our 4.5 hour layover at JFK.

I was very excited about the layover, because I had a plan to make full use of our Chase Sapphire and Priority Pass benefits. We began by walking a very long time to get to the Sapphire lounge, where there were hordes of people in line. Mary took up residence (prone) on a long metal bench nearby and I got us on the waiting list to get into the lounge.

Next we went to the Delta Lounge, which was one of the benefits with the fancy Delta credit card we got to get us here for “free.” (The credit card was $650.) As soon as we got settled, I got a text that we could now get into the Sapphire lounge. Mary, still nauseous, elected to stay at the Delta lounge, and I headed for the Sapphire lounge, where I had a delicious burger, and some other amazing food I’ve forgotten, other than grilled cauliflower. The Sapphire Lounge has a wonderful Sapphire cocktail, but I am avoiding alcohol and sugar as much as I can before the IBCPC Dragonboat Festival next week, which is the impetus for this trip. So instead, I had a lovely fruit infused water.

Once sated, I headed to XWell, where my priority pass card got me a complimentary 25 minute chair massage. This was a fabulous zero-gravity chair that played the sound of waves, while I got a more amazing massage than I ever would have thought a chair would be capable of. It was very relaxing and really got the kinks out.

Post massage, Mary was waiting for me and we headed to Minute Suites where we could get a private room with a bed for 1 hour. Unfortunately, when we got there, they didn’t have a room available until 7:15 which was boarding time, so we went to a different Delta lounge which had an outdoor terrace. The ambiance was eau d’Jet fuel, but I barely noticed. I loved being out in the breeze. We were also on a couch which Mary could lie down on. Mary got a bit to eat. I waited because I wasn’t hungry yet, and again I mis-timed it and it was time to board our next flight before I could get a chance to eat.

I had upgraded us to Premium Economy for the next flight, which meant wider seats (and no other seatmates). I had chosen the two seats at the very front so there was no one who could recline into us and there was also a ton of legroom. Neither of us slept on the flight. Mary found a very sweet, entertaining sitcom called Stumble (a mockumentary about a cheer team coach) and that kept us occupied.

I have severe packing and spatial organization deficits, which result in me never knowing where anything is, and constantly either losing something or thinking I’ve lost something. My methodology of shoving into a big shopping bag (the kind you might get in a clothing store) everything I thought I could possibly need on the flight resulted in me never being able to find anything, in addition to everything I had in my lap falling or getting tangled up in the headphone cords. It was hard to get comfortable, despite the upgraded seats.

Because this trip will involve a fair number of trains, which can involve lifting luggage above my head into overhead racks, and because my shoulders are constantly getting injured, I chose to pack based on a YouTube video about how to pack light. This meant three shirts, three pairs of pants, three accessories. Unfortunately, I also needed to bring three different shirts for the dragonboat festival, my life jacket, and some nicer clothes for our voyage home on the Queen Mary 2, as well as medication bottles, and supplements, and a ton of electrolyte mix packets.

I decided to pre-pack so I would be less anxious leading up to the trip. My pre-packing was based on the fact that there was a heatwave in France, and when that changed, I made no changes to what I had packed, other than adding a rain jacket.

How could I have not had a hoodie on the plane? The majority of people on both planes had hoodies and were comfortably ensconced. I have never not had a hoodie on a plane except for this time and I was very cold on the flight to JFK – better on the flight to Paris, because our premium economy status allowed us to have a blanket

So, we arrived in Paris about 10 am and got through customs in less than 15 minutes, which was amazing, since I had been reading about three hour waits. I knew to get a licensed cab into Paris because they have a set rate. We headed towards the cab area where a nice man asked us if we needed a cab and where we were going. When I told him, he said, “Follow me!” I said, “Are you a licensed cab driver?” He said, “Yes, Uber,” (which is not a licensed cab driver.) I asked, “It’s 56 euros?” He said, “No, it’s an hour drive. It is 90 euros.” I said no thanks and we walked further to the licensed cabs. About 30 minutes after we got in the cab we arrived at the Hotel Balzac, our home for the first night. Stay tuned. In the next post, I will share with you the wonders of the Hotel Balzac.

Our first two nights in Moorea were in a garden bungalow, the least expensive accommodation, and I never wrote from there so I want to now. Our bucket list item was to stay in an over-the-water bungalow, but we couldn’t afford seven nights so we did two nights in the garden and the final five in the over-the-water.

There are garden bungalows that are closer to the water (more expensive) and further back (still outrageously expensive but the least expensive bungalow.) I was pretty excited about the garden bungalow because from what I could tell while doing my research, it had a shower with doors that opened up onto a private outdoor area. What I didn’t know was how private the entire bungalow area was. We did see other people but the bungalows were spaced well apart from each other and it felt very secluded. There was a back porch with a couple chairs, a table and a view of the beach and the water. At the front door was a little spigot to wash the sand off our feet. The room was quite large and the bathroom did not disappoint. Every single shower I took there was heavenly. There was also a refrigerator stocked with water, pineapple juice, and beer, and refilled daily. The ceilings were high high high with a gorgeous ceiling fan.

In excited anticipation of our trip I read every review of the Sofitel on TripAdvisor. Some of them were so stupid. One idiot wrote in his negative review, “The food (at breakfast) didn’t make any sense. Make up your mind! Are you Chinese, or French, or Polynesian?” Another person complained about the toiletries: “This is not a luxury resort! Instead of name-brand toiletries, they use something made locally on the island!” I love toiletries and I was excited to smell these locally made shampoos, conditioners, and body wash. They were scented with a local gardenia called Tiare and they were absolutely divine. Like you take a sniff and your blood pressure immediately goes down like you’re holding a puppy or kitten or a sleeping baby.

Mary has a problem with lots of scents in that they stuff up her head, and there are many fabulously scented bath items and lotions that I am not allowed to use, but she also loved the Tiare toiletries. All the hotels use dispensers now so I couldn’t collect a gazillion little bottles like I did in the olden days, but on our last morning, Mary emptied out a nearly empty bottle of hers and we filled it with shower gel to take home.

There are a couple of hammocks on the beach near the water and they were never in use. I went out there both nights in the moonlight to meditate and it was lovely. With the bungalow windows open, or when standing in the shower, we could hear birds and we knew we were in paradise.

Neither of us regrets that we spent 5 nights in an overwater bungalow. It was amazing! But it was also very humid in the room because we were right on the water, and it was a little scary when the winds were so high. Also less private. If we did it again, we would probably book a garden bungalow and be just as happy.

Car rentals on Moorea were over $100 a day and completely not in our budget and there is nothing within walking distance of the Sofitel so even though we learned about all these great places to eat, we couldn’t go back easily without wheels and I had read that taxis are extremely expensive. One day, though, we decided to splurge and take a taxi back to the ferry terminal to get more breadfruit chips, mango and pineapple. I don’t remember how much it cost – maybe $20 or $25 each direction for a 9 minute ride – and the drivers both thought it was very strange that we were getting a taxi to the ferry terminal but not taking the ferry anywhere.

Our plan was to buy our yummies at the terminal and then find a restaurant to eat lunch in. There were restaurants within walking distance but the road was very busy with no sidewalks and Mary was afraid we would get hit if we walked in the road. I made her walk with me to an ice cream stand that was right next to the ferry terminal and showed her how we could avoid the road by walking in ditches and through a parking lot – though she followed me, my route did not ease her mind. I thought the stand might have something other than ice cream, but it didn’t, so we sat at a cute little table and had some non memorable ice cream, and then I begged Mary to cross the street to the gas station so I could get my 50 or 60 cent baguette. We were both starving by this point. We went into another grocery store on our food tour and both of them had the same setup – big metal bins full of huge fresh baguettes. I bought my baguette and Mary bought some sort of sandwich for lunch and then we took a taxi back to the hotel. That was our only excursion, other than the food tour, away from the resort. I was very happy as I carried my French Polynesian baguette, but it tasted like Wonder bread and was stale within hours. Still I was able to realize my baguette dream.

The trip back to the US was exhausting, the wind the last few days in Moorea made me angry, and we both agreed that we were glad we went to French Polynesia but Hawaii is just as good, way easier to get to, and less expensive.

But within a month or so Mary was pining for the breakfast at the Sofitel and obsessed with these really cool clams that we didn’t realize were clams until our last day of snorkeling. I thought they were features of the coral – jagged lines in different bright colors. But then I saw one open and close and I was beside myself in awe. I hovered over that clam for at least ten minutes. You can see a picture of them here. They are really remarkable. https://www.liveaquaria.com/product/3628/?pcatid=3628

I loved the clams and wished I had had more time with them but still wasn’t eager to go back – just because the red eye flights were so exhausting. We put the little bottle of Tiare shower gel in the bathroom and we have been miserly portioning it out. Instead of pouring when we shower, we each stick a finger in the jar and use whatever is on our finger for aromatherapy and a few suds. In December we took a downtown Portland vacation (fantastically wonderful) and we put the little bottle away because we didn’t want to share with our petsitter. Then we couldn’t remember where we put it, but a couple of days ago Mary found it. This morning I stood in the shower, dipped my finger in the bottle and Moorea came flooding back to me. It would be great to go back.

However, if we do we both agree no red-eye flights (a non red-eye is about $1000 per person round trip in economy!!) and we need to have enough money to rent a car. I also think I would like to spend maybe 3 or 4 nights in a Sofitel bungalow and then move to an AirBnb or vrbo. There are some gorgeous places to stay that are very inexpensive.

We have some other bucket list trips I think we should do first. At the moment I am obsessed with Japan, and we’ve also always wanted to do a tour with Bicycle Adventures, and a European River Cruise, and a Hurtigruten cruise of Norway, and a road trip to National parks in the West and Southwest, and ride every Amtrak route in the country, and go back to Germany for the Christmas Markets, and and and . . .

More to come someday.

Our amazing food tour of Moorea was 5 months ago, so I am piecing this together by reading TripAdvisor reviews to supplement my memory. I read about and reserved the food tour before we left. It had nothing but 5 star reviews, sounded amazing, and it did not disappoint. The guy who does the tour is named Heimata. He is a native of Moorea and a trained chef. Someone said on TripAdvisor that he was the chef for the 2024 Women’s Surfing team, which he didn’t mention to us, but is pretty cool.

Heimata picked us and two other couples up at the Sofitel at 8:30 am, picked up another couple at their hotel, and then drove us to the ferry terminal. I had read about this first stop where there is a fruit stand so I thought I knew exactly what was next, but then he told us we were going to take the ferry to Papeete. I was a little disappointed, but knew we were in good hands. He said we could leave all our stuff in the van because he would drive the van onto the ferry. We all got out of the van and walked a couple feet away to a table where two women were selling various food items. Heimata explained to us that the food in French Polynesia is a combination of French, Polynesian, and Chinese cuisines. In March of 1865, 337 men from Hong Kong were brought to the islands to work as low-wage laborers. (I know little of the history, and the last sentence comes from AI. I’m not sure what “brought to” means. In my quick Google search I don’t see anything about Chinese slave labor in French Polynesia, but I do see that in the 19th century European colonists kidnapped and enslaved people from many places, including French Polynesia – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blackbirding)

The first thing Heimata purchased at the fruit stand was crunchy mangos dusted with plum powder – the plum powder is the Chinese influence. I didn’t know that there are mangos that are meant to be crunchy. I always thought crunchy = unripe. The plum powder is a very dark red and it is divine sprinkled on the mangos. We all took one or two pieces and our hands were immediately dyed red. We also tried some fresh pineapple. He bought some banana fritters but didn’t hand them out to us. Mary and I purchased some pineapple and some breadfruit chips and maybe some banana bread to eat later. (They were divine.) We paid in the few American dollars we had but didn’t have quite enough so Heimata lent us some money because we would be near an ATM later in the tour.

We got back in the van and Heimata started up the van and drove out of the ferry terminal parking lot. At first I thought the automobile entrance to the ferry must be located further up, but he kept driving. We all sat in silent confusion and after a little while he said, “Did you notice we’re not getting on the ferry? I was just kidding. People read about the tour ahead of time and I don’t want you all to think you know what’s going to happen.”

Our next stop was an overlook on the side of the highway directly above (way above) the Sofitel. The view was fabulous. There we had the banana fritters, which were good, but nothing I would fly nearly 5000 miles for – not like the mango and chips.

I can’t remember the order of the stops, but I think the next stop was a Chinese restaurant. One of the specialties there is Chow Mein sandwiches and that is exactly what it sounds like – chow mein in a very fresh baguette. It wasn’t at all healthy ( and probably contributed to the FOUR pounds I gained on vacation) but it was delicious. I think I remember Heimata saying that in Tahiti they make sandwiches out of all sorts of things – like a pasta sandwich. This is because bread is very cheap and subsidized by the government. Every morning all the stores get fresh deliveries of these huge baguettes and they cost something like 50 or 60 cents. Once I heard that I was determined to go buy a baguette. (More on that in my next post.)

Maybe our next stop was this little restaurant where we were served two types of poisson cru (raw fish marinated in citrus juice and coconut milk) and some sort of beef dish. The poisson cru looks disgusting. Mary and I were both very very afraid of it, but also brave. It was SO DELICIOUS! The fish just melted in my mouth and it was seasoned perfectly. I don’t know why we never had it again on our visit because we both loved it.

Prior to entering this restaurant we had found an ATM but it was broken so we were still without cash. Once in the restaurant, Mary’s headache came on and she needed coffee. (She has a spinal fluid leak that goes away when she lies down but comes on very strong after she has been upright for more than an hour or so.) Heimata said, “Do you want me to buy you a cup of coffee?” and Mary said no and I said, “Yes, can you please get her a cup of coffee and we will owe you?” All this is just to say what a great tour guide Heimata is. He also gave us tons of cultural information and history throughout the tour – and drove us past his elementary school!

I think we had dessert at two different places, but I only remember the second place, where he said we could choose anything we wanted on the menu. I believe Mary and I chose lava cake to share. They asked if we wanted ice cream and of course we said yes. The ice cream was so delicious – kind of coconut, kind of vanilla – and I spent the rest of our vacation trying and failing to get an ice cream that good.

I think we also went to a second restaurant that I can’t remember. Our last stop was the Manutea Rum factory where we all stood at a bar in the back of the room and a drill sergeant-like bartender poured us glass after glass of different rums, alcoholic drinks, and fruit drinks. They were all delicious but the pours came so fast I basically had to gulp each one down, and if I asked her a question, like, “What is this that we’re drinking?” she ignored me and also skipped giving me whatever she was pouring. Among each other, we mostly figured it out though and Mary and I bought a carton of something called “Tahiti Drink L’Original”. It came in a quart milk carton. It had some sort of alcohol in it and was delicious – full of sugar I’m sure, though we never really knew what was in it. We just enjoyed it for the rest of our trip.

At some point we finally managed to find a working ATM and we paid Heimata back plus a hefty tip. This food tour was worth every dollar (I think we paid about $120 per person) and if we ever go back to Moorea I hope we can do it again. Heimata’s web site is here: https://tahitifoodtour.com/. We booked through Viator because they offered free cancellations.

There was a couple from Eugene on the tour (small world) and they said they take a food tour everywhere they go and have never been disappointed. I would like to start doing that also.

Here is how we got from the Sofitel in Moorea to our home in King City: van from Sofitel to ferry port, treacherous ferry ride to Tahiti, van from Tahiti ferry port to Tahiti airport, plane from Tahiti to LAX, plane from LAX, driving our own sweet car home. The journey began at 4:30 pm on Tuesday and we were home about 23 hours later.

I say the ferry ride was treacherous, but it was only the non-Polynesians who suffered. The locals talked, ate, drank, while we tourists sweated, paled, prayed, and possibly barfed. If that happened it didn’t happen near me which I’m grateful for, because once someone starts the rest follow.

When we checked out of the resort they wanted to give us shell leis, which is a sweet touch, but we have heard those are very bad for the environment, so we refrained from taking them and the lei-giving man seemed confused and possibly even a little hurt. He explained that he couldn’t give us flower leis because we can’t bring them into the US. On our arrival into Tahiti, we were given wonderfully fragrant flower leis at the airport, and again at the resort. I kept them for the whole week even after they died because they still smelled so fabulous.

After our harrowing ferry ride, a van picked us up to take us to the airport. We were the last people to the van and saw that everyone had been given a shell lei. I said to Mary, “We need to take those,” having sussed that our refusals were probably rude. So we both allowed them to put the leis around our necks and then Mary surreptitiously left hers in the van and I left mine on a chair outside the airport. I hope someone found it and loves it.

We had no familiarity with the airport in Tahiti because we were whisked away so immediately upon arrival. I had read that it is not air conditioned, is unpleasant, and you should definitely buy access to the Air Tahiti Nui lounge. We sat for awhile outside the airport before we went in because the air was pleasant – no wind!! – and we were in no hurry to put our masks on. When we did go in we discovered the entire airport is open air. The sun goes down early in Tahiti so it was already dark and it was not muggy or hot at all.

There was an area marked International Terminal with cordoned off paths, like at TSA, and a security guard at the entrance. I went to the security guard to ask her what we were supposed to do and she said, “Go in there if you want,” and gestured towards the cordoned area and the people starting to line up. We did so and waited awhile. We were both tired and grouchy and I was hungry. (Poor Mary was still nauseous from the ferry.) Nothing happened other than more people starting to line up. I went back to the security guard, intending to ask her what exactly was going on, but before I could open my mouth she barked at me, “I don’t know how long you have to wait. It’ll open when it opens.” Clearly she’d been saying this over and over again.

“So I don’t need to be lined up here?” I asked. “I can go get something to eat?”

“Of course! Of course!” She said this like I was the only person with any sense and everyone else was complete idiots, although I imagine telling people there’s no need to line up might have been helpful. At this point Mary walked a few feet away and lay down on the floor and I went in search of food.

As I searched for food I kept passing the security guard and smiling at her and eventually she smiled back, which felt like a great accomplishment on my part, since for some reason I had decided that it was important that she like me. Once she smiled I figured we were friends, and I offered her my unopened bottle of water that I was going to have to throw away. She hesitated and I said, “Oh, of course you can’t take this. Sorry.” She nodded and probably rolled her eyes when I walked away. I think I was guilty of being that weird aggressively friendly person who just wears you out and makes you want to quit your job.

There were two foods I was really looking forward to in French Polynesia – quiche and coconut ice cream. Quiche was never on offer at our hotel or on our food tour, which I know I still need to write about. And the coconut ice cream at the resort was kinda boring. I had read that one of the food places at the airport had quiche. I eventually found that place. There was one piece of quiche in the case, which the woman in front of me in line took. I wandered around and looked for other food that might be good and found nothing. Eventually I went back to the quiche place and ordered a piece of pepperoni pizza and a “vegan salad.” When the woman showed me that the salad was a ton of quinoa with 4 alfalfa sprouts on top, I thought I didn’t need the pizza too, but she had already begun heating it, so I got both. There was a sign that said coco glace, which is French for coconut ice cream so since this was my last chance, I ordered that too. I was very surprised when she picked up a coconut, hacked the top off of it, balanced it in a paper cup and handed it to me. My dinner was nothing like I had hoped for, nor even what I thought I was ordering. But how often can you get a cold whole coconut to drink out of? I drained the entire thing. It was filling and delicious.

Eventually we got inside the international area and there was a lovely cordoned off outdoor area with chairs and couches, and all you had to do was buy a coke from the restaurant associated with it and you could be out there. Of course this restaurant had three different kinds of quiche but I was full at that point. Mary bought a coke and a bagel, which granted us entry. Because most people want to be indoors, Mary and I basically had the place to ourselves, each our own couch to lie on, until shortly before the flight started boarding, at which point too many people went to an adjacent cordoned off smoking area to get their last fix. I moved as far away from them as I could and put my mask on. (I constantly embarrass Mary with my responses to cigarette smoke.)

On the plane we got our two seats together and I proceeded to do what I did on the incoming flight – take my shoes off, put my wonderful Air Tahiti Nui socks on, cover my head with the blanket (which I fell in love with and really wanted to take off the plane with me) and . . .

On the incoming flight I had gone to sleep. On the flight home, with my beloved next to me, I was CONSTANTLY jostled and poked, and poked hard enough that each time I thought she was trying to tell me something, but she was just trying to get comfortable. She never did and I barely slept. So I believe “Be Careful What You Wish For” is an appropriate aphorism for that leg of the journey.

We got to LAX at 8:30 am, got our luggage pretty quickly, and then there was this mad dash to customs. Everyone seemed to be racing to get there so the competitor in me had to race too. It wasn’t a short race either. I’d say we race-walked for at least 10 minutes, maybe longer. Finally, there we were. We have Global Entry and walked up to the empty Global Entry kiosks and were out of customs three minutes later. I’m sure there’s a good aphorism for this too – “Be Careful What You Race For – There may be no point.”

We had to get from the international terminal to the Alaska Terminal, another very long walk. My cPap bag kept falling off my suitcase and I was in a fairly foul mood that had begun at the windy “private beach” in Moorea. As soon as I saw one of those bag carts that costs money to rent, I stuck my credit card in and piled all my bags onto the cart. $8 well spent!

At the Alaska Terminal, again all Mary wanted to do was lie down, having had no sleep. I told her we should go to the Alaska Lounge. Because we had bought first class tickets home, the lounge entry was a reduced $30 per person. I figured we would probably spend at least $35 on food outside the lounge and Mary would never find a place to lie down that wouldn’t eventually be filled with people and it was worth it to spend another $25 to be in an uncrowded place.

At the lounge I asked the attendant if Mary would be able to lie down somewhere and he said absolutely not. Then he took us to a corner booth, pulled a foot stool over and suggested to Mary that perhaps she could relax there – i.e. lie down in the booth and put her feet on the stool. I always enjoy people who tell me I can’t do something and then in coded language suggest exactly how to do what I’m not supposed to do. There were signs that said, “Do not lie on the furniture,” and all over the lounge there were people lying on the furniture.

Breakfast on the plane had been a “cheese omelet” and a small overcooked piece of broccoli. There was no cheese in the omelet. It was basically a folded over factory-made scrambled egg and I was unable to finish it. So I immediately headed to the Alaska lounge food bar, which was underwhelming, but I managed to pull together a pretty good breakfast of oatmeal, chia pudding, Greek yogurt, fruit, and an English muffin.

First class flights for both of us were about $200 more than economy and I decided to pay for that when we were planning the trip because I thought we would be pretty exhausted by that point. Boy was I right! We got into our first class seats, had our first class meals, and didn’t speak to each other the entire flight, which seemed interminable. It was a little less than 2 hours. Later we both mentioned that we felt like first class had been wasted on us because we usually enjoy it so much, but we were both fairly miserable. Of course it wasn’t wasted on us, because we would have been exponentially more miserable in economy.

We’ve been home a week now and are both still completely exhausted. Mary thinks maybe we’re too old for two red-eye flights within the space of 7 days. I’m not done writing yet. I still have to write about the food tour and share our final thoughts on the trip. I’ll try to get that done in the next few days.

I left you last with Mary and I planning to walk through the surf to the beach bar for lunch. The wind, at that point, was so strong it practically knocked me over when I opened the door to our patio, so we decided to not try to get there via the beach. After breakfast, I had FaceTimed with a friend who had asked me to get her a black pearl while we were in FP. We FaceTimed with the woman in the pearl shop and Karen picked out an absolutely gorgeous pearl. Back at the room I FaceTimed her again so she could spend more time admiring her pearl. I mentioned all my scrapes and she told me to be careful because you can get a staph infection by snorkeling with an open wound. I knew that this was not theoretical since Colin Jost ended up with a staph infection at the Olympics surfing event in Tahiti. Mary and I had been operating under the completely erroneous assumption that salt water is good for a wound. I did a little web-surfing and discovered that I shouldn’t have been snorkeling the entire time we were there! Of course this would have been heartbreaking and, since I don’t seem to have developed an infection, I am kind of grateful for my ignorance. But I didn’t want to push my luck any further, and the chances of me falling while trying to walk through the surf in 15-20 mph winds, seemed pretty good.

So we got to the beach bar via the resort grounds and had a delicious chicken pesto panini and some ice cream. It took forever for the waiter to deliver the ice cream and Mary said, “Maybe the waiter has to go to the restaurant to get it.” The restaurant is at least a 2 or 3 minute walk from the beach bar. In fact, Mary was correct, and eventually the waiter appeared, looking sweaty and tired, and handed us our melting ice cream. I never would have ordered it if I knew the work it involved to get it to us.

We had thought we would have one last dinner at the restaurant, but we were both getting quite weary by the end of the vacation and instead we split a room-service hamburger for $35 plus tip plus $15 delivery charge. Without a doubt the most expensive hamburger ever, and we couldn’t even enjoy it on the deck because of the wind. It was, though, a delicious hamburger, and we finished the rest of our wonderful alcoholic Tahiti juice drink and shared a purloined breakfast pain aux chocolate for dessert.

We packed after dinner because we had received a letter saying that we were allowed to stay in our room until 11, but a bellman would be coming for our luggage at 10:30 the next morning. We packed our snorkel gear at the bottom of our suitcases because I had decided I was done snorkeling with open wounds, and Mary was pretty tired.

If we had snorkeled the minute we woke up around 6 am the next morning, it would have been okay, but pretty immediately the surf was huge and the winds were listed as 18-25 mph. (It definitely felt like 25 to me.) I had wanted to get our delicious panini at the Beach Bar again, but the wind was so unpleasant we went to the restaurant instead, where we bid farewell to our favorite waitress and gave her a little Portland sticker from Powell’s. Earlier in the week I had arranged for us to get 80 minute spa treatments at 1:30 on our last day so we would have somewhere to hang out until it was time for us to be transferred to the ferry at 4:30. We got to the spa around noon and they showed us their “private beach”, a small area with two recliners, mostly shaded. I attempted to read but the pages of my magazine were blown about so much it was impossible. I have always known I don’t like strong wind, but apparently it makes me angry. I was now La Grumpia. Mary and I switched chairs but it was still fairly unpleasant. I tried to enjoy the view of paradise but didn’t do a very good job of it.

Our massages were really great – we got to choose the oil and we both chose the native Tiare oil, which smells divine. After the massages we still had a little over an hour to kill. Mary stayed at the private beach and I sat in a chair near the spa plunge pool, which we were invited to plunge in prior to our massages, but it felt like too much work, plus our swimwear stunk really bad from the ocean water and from never drying out. About 3:45 I went to their shower room, which had doors and windows covered with curtains, which blew open in the wind. The same for the shower curtain. Eventually I decided that modesty was pointless and I took a shower in full view of anyone who wanted to peer in.

We were dreading the ferry ride back to Tahiti and the weather did not disappoint in that respect. Mary and I sat in different areas because she wanted to be further back and I didn’t want any chairs in front of me. At first when the huge swells began I told myself, “This is fun! This is just like being on a cruise or a small rollercoaster.” That was a lie, of course. It was a ROUGH ride! I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing but quickly my entire body was covered in sweat, and a nice ferry employee came over to hand me a barf bag and a napkin. She also said that wearing my mask would make things worse, so I removed my mask and basically prayed for the entire journey – please do not barf; please do not barf.

We both succeeded in that regard, but it was definitely close.

More later …

Last night I had to stop writing when the Polynesian show began. I love the music so much, especially the drumming. Mary and I both love live music, but we don’t like crowds and prefer outdoor concerts. I put a bunch of outdoor concerts on our calendar this summer and we proceeded to go to none of them. So, last night, we both lay on the divan. It was dark, but we could see fish in the water below us – tons of fairly large blue fish just playing at the surface and occasionally audibly stirring the water. The sky was full of the stars of the Southern hemisphere. And then the music began. These musicians are very talented – also loud enough to hear very clearly from our bungalow which is about two or three hundred yards across the water. I think it actually would have been too loud if we were there in the restaurant. Also there would have been other people. Yuck! At the end there was a fire dance which we could somewhat see from our deck. I doubt that I can even describe how magical that hour was. Will I ever again get to lie in the dark, above a lagoon, snuggling with my sweetie, no one else around, enjoying our own private concert? I was wearing my Fitbit and checked my pulse and it was something like 59 bpm. I was so relaxed!

The show ended, we watched the people file out, and I checked my email. There was a message from our friend Jan telling me that Portland is getting a WNBA franchise! Last night was definitely the most wonderful night of 2024, maybe my most favorite evening ever?

Another amazing evening this trip was a bit of a surprise. It was at LAX where we were waiting for our flight to Papeete. We were told to check in 3 hours before our eight hour flight. I had read that the Star Alliance Lounge, which we could pay $75 each to enter, has an outdoor terrace. Neither of us relished 11 hours straight in a mask, so we plunked down a credit card and went straight to the outdoor terrace. I wasn’t very hungry and didn’t want to drink because I had read that the best way to sleep on a red-eye flight is to not eat anything heavy and to avoid alcohol. So we basically payed $150 to sit outside on a couch for two hours. I did have some ice water and eventually a small salad, but that was it in terms of taking advantage of the free food in the lounge. Those 2 hours at the outdoor terrace were SO worth the $150. There were lots of couches around fire tables and we each had our own couch to lie down on. I tried to find us couches away from a fire table, but there was only one and it was occupied. Eventually it got a little cooler and breezy outside and then we would get bits of cool air, then warm, then cool, which Mary said reminded her of visiting Haleakala in Maui in the early morning. It was delicious! Also it was SO LOUD out there. I’m not sure how close we were to planes landing and taking off but there was a constant roar, and that felt wonderful too. I think we both felt like we were all by ourselves surrounded by a beautiful black night. It was awesome.

Our flight left at midnight and we boarded at 11. We were each given a tiare flower when we boarded, which was a nice touch, but in practice it was just this thing that got squished in my hand as I got what I needed out of my carryon and then got it up into the overhead bin. Mary and I did not get to sit together, but I had managed to snag the seat across from her and the seats were wide enough that the woman next to me never encroached on my space and vice versa. We were given amenity kits with an eye mask, ear plugs, toothbrush and toothpaste, and some cozy blue socks. We also got a pillow and blanket. These premium seats also had footrests and the headrest could be adjusted so it kind of enveloped my head. There was pretty good recline in the seats also, so as soon as I was able to I reclined, covered my head with the blanket and managed to go to sleep for about 5 and a half hours. I woke up when they were getting ready to serve breakfast, which was a cheese omelet and something else I can’t remember.

Soon it was 5:30 am and we were in Papeete. Our Costco package included transfers from the airport to the ferry terminal. The tour company representative was there with our names on a sign. He presented us each with a lei and then gave us a ticket book for the round trip ferry, as well as transfers from the ferry to the resort. He wanted to take us straight to the van. I had to ask if I could use the bathroom first. I also explained that we were not getting on the 8 am ferry like everyone else, but that we still wanted to go to the ferry terminal and we would walk across the street to our hotel for the morning. I wanted to get some francs at an ATM, but it seemed like we barely had time to pee – Matin was eager to get us out of the airport. He took us to a van and loaded our luggage in the back. I thought we were going to get in the van and go, but then he remembered that our luggage shouldn’t be with everyone else’s luggage because all the other luggage was going to get loaded straight on to the ferry. (Even though I love what we did that morning, it would have been great to have our luggage loaded on the ferry for us, given what happened to me later.) Matin removed our luggage from the van and led us to a big bus where he loaded our suitcases into the side of the bus. He said, “You will ride the bus.” We got on the bus, which had no driver but many passengers, and we waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually I got off the bus and just sat on the steps because I didn’t want to wear my mask. The wait was at least a half an hour, maybe more, with no appearance from anyone to tell us what was going on. Eventually a few people got off the bus to inquire and learned that we were waiting for a couple who had gotten held up in customs. We waited another ten minutes or so and finally were taken to the ferry terminal. Matin rode the bus with us, and when we got to the terminal he showed us where our hotel was, directly across the street. We had to cross four very busy lanes of traffic to get to the hotel. It felt a little harrowing with our luggage, but we managed. At the Hotel Kon Tiki we were given immediate access to our pod room. It was clean, very small, and the bed felt perfect. When we turned off the lights it was pitch dark. Mary went to sleep and I went back to the lobby to get a little breakfast. They had a small buffet which I thought was $10. I loaded up a plate with two of everything that looked good, payed what turned out to be $35, took it back to the room, where we both devoured it, and then we turned out the lights and slept until 1:30 when we checked out and crossed back over to the ferry terminal. Again, the traffic was scary. It felt a little aggressive. We made it to the middle island and then all the way across, but I was nervous about being in the way of cars, so I rushed myself, tripped over something, and landed flat on everything except my face. I scraped both knees and my right elbow and sprained my right hand. I hurt everywhere. At the ferry terminal the elevators were out of order so we had to schlep our luggage up two flights of stairs. This was painful and difficult. I took it one step at a time with a rest in between each step because my whole body was throbbing.

Upstairs it was not at all clear where we were supposed to be. A very kind woman saw that we were confused, and she looked at our tickets and told us where we needed to go. Mary sat down there with our luggage and I went in search of a bathroom to tend to my wounds. Sadly I had to go back downstairs, but I was able to wash my scrapes. There was a food area and we were both hungry but Mary was nervous about leaving her spot, so I bought us each a hamburger and as soon as we finished our burgers it was time to board the ferry. Navigating the ferry was also a bit opaque. There was an outside area, but I could never find it so we sat at the front of the boat which was mostly empty, just a couple locals there, and we watched our approach to Mo’orea through windows filmy with salt.

That was Monday. Now I will take you back to today, which is Sunday. It is very stormy outside. The water in our lagoon is moving so much I feel like I’m on the Queen Mary crossing the Atlantic Ocean – though this is a gorgeous shade of blue we did not see in the waters off the Queen Mary. The wind and the surf are very loud, and the thatches on our bungalow make a lot of noise as they blow around. We were able to snorkel this morning before it got this bad. It’s now 1:45 and we’ve decided to put on our water shoes and walk through the surf to the beach bar for lunch. We’ve never been to the beach bar, but they have coco sorbet for less than in the restaurant so we’re going to give it a try, though it may be unpleasant in this wind. I’ll continue this after lunch.

You would think by the frequency of my postings that we are off discovering the entire island of Moorea and busy, busy, busy. That we are not. But we are luxuriating in the freedom to do nothing, and once you get into that groove, it’s hard to pull yourself away from it. However, I want to write this blog as much for myself as for my readers because these posts bring back wonderful memories years later.

Right now we are out on our deck waiting for the Polynesian show to begin. As I believe I mentioned, meals here are very expensive and it has felt beyond our budget to have both lunch and dinner in the restaurant. So we have gotten into the habit of having one or the other, and then bringing the leftovers to our room. They serve very good rolls at both meals and if we fill up on rolls, we can have a large part of our meal left over. This afternoon we had pizza, a salad, a dessert and one can of coke for $70. Our meal this evening was leftover pizza, the amazing Tahiti drink I wrote of earlier and a shared pain de chocolate purloined from breakfast. There is no question that we are cheap, but I actually prefer this to having dinner in the restaurant. It’s just so lovely to sit out here and feel the breeze, gaze at the dark, glistening water, and listen to the Polynesian music in the restaurant, as well as the water lapping up against the stilts of our bungalow .

When we booked I made a request for a bungalow in the quieter area and they definitely did not accommodate me. I told Mary that if I had known beforehand that we would hear all music coming from the restaurant, I would have been very anxious and upset. But it turns out I love it – maybe because it’s Polynesian music? I don’t know.

I did mention our stormy lagoon in my title. The last two days we’ve had rain. Yesterday morning I woke to discover a very wet deck and my favorite divan soaking wet. It sprinkled on and off all day. Every time I thought it had stopped and went to my divan, it began again. Such familiar weather, but a warmer, gentler rain than Portland. After the sunrise this morning we decided to go straight to breakfast instead of snorkel, but around 11:30, we put on our snorkel gear and headed out. We have rail steps down to the lagoon, and the top rail, which is normally about two feet above water, was completely submerged. We got in the water and lasted perhaps 5 minutes. We were both being thrashed around and into the stilts of the bungalow, which are covered with coral so I don’t want my body to touch them. And I’m swimming with only my legs, so I felt completely powerless. We swam back to our bungalow and I thought I would just hang in the water right by the ladder but then I was shoved into the steps and I got angry and got out.

We are perfectly content to lie around and read and do crossword puzzles so that’s what we did after lunch, but around 4:30 the water seemed calmer so we got back in. Even though the water was a little murkier than our previous snorkels and the current was still a little strong, I thoroughly enjoyed my snorkel. We saw a spotted manta ray very close up. My favorite was this school of little green/grey fish who gathered around a sponge-like coral. All at once, they swam into the coral and completely hid in the crevices and then emerged en masse. I thought at first I had scared them, but they continued to do this over and over so I guess it‘s just their thing. It reminded me of the swifts at Chapman Elementary in Portland in September. I could have stayed there a long time but Mary pointed out that the current was picking up and we might have a hard time getting back to our bungalow if we didn’t head back.

We‘re both snorkeling in long swim pants and swim shirts and I am close to perfecting changing from my snorkel outfit into a towel wrap while (mostly) not exposing myself. Then I lie in my divan until I am dry. It’s quite divine.Because we’re also snorkeling twice a day now, I’ve discovered that I am fine without a shower in between. My skin feels amazing from the salt water and my hair feels pretty great too.

So that was our day today and will probably be our day tomorrow also. Mary has promised me we can snorkel in my favorite area that is so shallow it scares her. It’s probably about 2 feet deep. I can reach down and touch the sand. But there are tons of fish and I am SO close to them!