Mo’orea

The second part of our Tahitian adventure begins! Once again up with the lark, to ensure we could catch the ferry across to Mo’orea, another island in the Windward Islands group of the Society Islands archipelago, one of five archipelagos that make up French Polynesia. We left the hotel to cross the road, as the ferry terminal is directly opposite the Kon Tiki hotel. We went upstairs to board, and were promptly sent back downstairs and told to deposit our luggage there. This we did, and received more information from the luggage guy than anyone at the hotel, travel company, or ticket gates had given us! In what was probably his third language, to boot.

We headed to the back, café area of the passenger cabin, and got some beverages before settling in for the 45 minute voyage. We dealt a few bridge hands to practice our bidding, and the journey was over in a flash. Once disembarked, we located our luggage and our bus driver, who held our suitcase back to be put on last. This means we would be first to disembark, I surmised…correctly, as it turns out. A short 5-minute drive and we were at Sofitel Mo’orea. This never happens to me! Invariably, when there’s a bus dropping people off at multiple stops, mine will be the last stop. We checked in, and were told that although our room wouldn’t be ready until 2pm, we could drop off our luggage and take advantage of the bar and restaurant. Somewhat unburdened, we wandered around the grounds to get our bearings, before heading back to the Pure restaurant for lunch. After lunch we waited until our room was ready, then got ourselves sorted and went out for another wander, this time equipped with camera, to photograph the local bird life. This seems to be a little more diverse than in central Pape’ete, with zebra doves, red-vented bulbuls, waxeyes, chestnut-breasted mannikins, and the occasional tern flying overhead.

We're not in a lagoon bungalow

We had a look inside the pearl shop but there was nothing there that took Nicola’s fancy, so we went back to the main reception and booked ourselves onto tours of the island, by land and by sea, for the next two days. That was about as much as we could do, so we headed for a dip in the pool before going to our welcome reception and cocktail at 5:30. Afterwards we stayed in the bar for another cocktail, then had dinner in the Pure restaurant - local fish grilled with salad, and a Thai prawn noodle which Nicola pronounced "not very Thai". There was the occasional peanut and some fish sauce, but that was it.

 

 

 

Island Tour

This morning’s excursion was a tour around the island. We were picked up from our hotel at 10 to 10, and our guide and driver Jean-Baptiste ("JB") introduced himself. We were the penultimate pick-up – one more stop at the Royal Tahitien – and we were off on a whistle-stop tour around the island of Tahiti. This would not include Tahiti Iti, or Little Tahiti, which is joined to the main island by an isthmus, due to lack of time.

Our first stop was Point Venus, which is where captains Wallis, Bougainville and Cook all arrived, in that order. There’s a lighthouse and a memorial there, and also a memorial to HMS Bounty, who stopped here for breadfruit. James Norman Hall, the author of the book, Mutiny On The Bounty, has a house and museum here. We wondered around a bit and took in the view, and I tried (and failed) to get a decent picture of the small finches that we’ve seen a few times here. The bird life has ben a bit sparse here – there’s pigeons and zebra doves everywhere, and the occasional frigate bird and tern, and of course the ubiquitous mynahs and chickens scratching around, but that’s been about it so far. These little finches looked cute. Turns out they’re red-browed finches, introduced from Australia. Oh well. 

Cook Memorial and lighthouse

The HMS Bounty memorial

Back aboard the bus, and JB was giving us a running bi-lingual commentary about all aspects of Tahitian life, including the surprising amount of reliance upon New Zealand. All their dairy, naturally, came from NZ, but so also does their social housing – provided in pre-fabricated form and assembled on site in around 6 weeks per habitation. The cost is low, particularly if you own the land, but even without that it was only around $50,000. Presumably heavily subsidised by the French taxpayer, as is much else around here, which accounts for the quality of the roads. Next stop was at the Faarumai waterfalls, also known as les 3 cascades. We only had time for the bottom-most fall, but it was still pretty impressive. 

Once more on the bus, and JB was continuing his commentary. It’s thirsty work doing this, as I can attest! He never let up, switching easily between English and French, but also schooling us in basic Tahitian. The next stop on our tour was at the Water Gardens, as the Botanic Gardens were shut whilst being refurbished. Also along this section of coast is the Paul Gauguin museum, which we had wanted to go to. According to Google Maps, it’s “temporarily closed”, but according to JB, it’s been shut for 9 years now. Thanks, Google! The Water Gardens contained some nice flowers and plants, and we wandered around under a light drizzle (the so-called “scattered thunderstorms” in the forecast, we presumed), before reboarding and going on to the final destination on our tour. 

Botany

A ubiquitous chicken

This was a cave. JB dampened down our expectations of what we were about to see, pointing out that Tahiti is only a small island, so only has small caves. The Grotte de Maraa was pretty big, but doesn’t lead anywhere, and you can’t go into it as there’s a lake at the bottom and a “No Swimming” sign next to it. We saw some fish in the water, though.

 The final leg of our journey brought us full circle as JB dropped us outside our hotel. We headed inside to snack on the cakes we’d made yesterday before heading up to the rooftop bar once more, to watch the sun go down, then headed back into town to dine at La Squadra.

 

 

Cooking Class

We’d booked a Polynesian cookery class for Tuesday morning, so we were up with the lark(-ish) to get breakfast (This proved to be a mistake) before heading into town and finding the location on Rue de Paul Gauguin. He's kind of a big deal in these parts. 

We located the place easily in daylight, and were greeted by cheffe Albane and her assistant Marine. We met two women from the USA who were also taking the tour. She explained what we were going to do, then took us back downstairs into the market, where she chatted to, and shopped at, various stalls in the marché, all the while explaining the products we were selecting, and in some cases (e.g. the rambutan) trying before buying. She explained about the non-food parts of the marché, and we noted some places to visit again this afternoon. Then we headed back to her kitchen, and donned black aprons. “This isn’t Masterchef, is it?” I enquired. “Is one of us going to be sent home?”    

Albane explained about the uses of coconut and its importance to the economy of Polynesia. We kinda knew all this already, having been subjected to the same lecture in both Tonga and Rarotonga. We were preparing two sweet baked dishes, a cake and a macaroon, under Albane’s direction. Once these were in the oven, we moved on to fruits and savouries. I was in charge of cutting the thon (tuna) that we’d bought in the market to make the i’a ota, the local version of the dish known as ota ika or ceviche around the world – basically, raw fish marinaded in lime juice and coconut milk. Once that was prepared, we were ready to sit down and eat. It was still only 11:30 and I was not very hungry having had an omelette for breakfast, but we tried everything, including green mango with Chinese spices, the cake and macaroons we’d made earlier, and the i’a ota; also the local fruits, a type of pasty made with pâté, breadfruit, cooked banana and taro dipped in a marinade sauce of coconut and garlic. By far the hit of our efforts was the i’a ota, but the rest was good, too. We sat around, chatting and eating – Polynesians have no set courses, and don’t distinguish between sweet and savoury, so everything is served at once, and you can eat meat followed by sweet followed by savoury again. 

By about midday we were sated, so we took the cakes we’d made, boxed up by Albane, back to the hotel.

After a bit of a rest, we decided to head back to the market, and investigated shops selling t-shirts, wraps, and pearls (Tahiti is famous for its cultured pearls). We also visited the pearl museum and learnt about the history of pearls and  the cultured pearl-making process. As we made our way back to the hotel, the air felt distinctly muggy and hot, so we may be in for some thunderstorm activity…hopefully overnight so it will clear the air a bit.

At a little after five, we headed upstairs to the rooftop bar, called Reeftop (I see what they did there), to drink cocktails and watch the sunset.

 

Papeete

Tahiti. It’s a faff to get to. We set off from Wellington to Auckland, leaving plenty of time before our flight to Tahiti, in case of delay or cancellation. No problem, we got to Auckland on time. Our flight to Papeete was scheduled for 6:40pm, which would have landed us at around 1:00am. Not brilliant, but doable. Unfortunately, the flight was delayed twice before we even boarded, so it was 7:15pm by the time we were boarded. And then we waited. And waited. No announcements were forthcoming, and the cabin crew distributed some snacks to us. Then we saw two police officers come past us and head determinedly into the back of the plane. Presumably someone was being obstreperous and had to be deplaned, which took a little while longer. We eventually took off at 8:05, nearly an hour and a half late. This, of course, had a knock-on effect, and we didn’t land until 2:45am. We cleared customs and baggage reclaim, and eventually made it to the Kon Tiki hotel by about 4:00am. Didn’t bother unpacking, straight to sleep for 4 hours, but we needed to be up as the breakfast buffet ended at 9:30, and we didn’t want to miss out.

The next day was sunny and bright, and after breakfast we headed into town. It was a warm day, and we walked rather further than was advisable – especially as I’d only put on jandals for the walk, thinking we wouldn’t be out long. We explored most of the town centre. Our hotel is directly opposite the main passenger dock, and we crossed over to take a look as uncle Google had indicated that there was a tourist information office there. This turned out to be just a kiosk with only one leaflet, but we found the main office and booked some excursions over the coming days in Papeete. We then proceeded through the gardens along the waterfront, eventually reaching the Cultural Centre, which turned out to be a series of auditoria and stadia, and not quite what we were expecting. As there was no actual events going on, we decided to head back. This all took us some time. We headed back to the hotel to avail ourselves of the lunchtime menu there, only to be told that the restaurant was closed on Sundays and Mondays. The receptionist recommended a bar down the road, 3 Brasseurs, and we went there for beer, salad and a burger instead.

In the evening we went out again in search of L’O A La Bouche, but we’d forgotten the map and found ourselves wandering around in the backstreets of Papeete. We eventually found our way back to the waterfront and decided to cut our losses and stopped at the first place we found, a bar/restaurant called Bora Bora, and had some drinks and nibbles there.

Cosi Fan Tutte

Or, “everybody’s doing it”, apparently. Yes, the famous Mozart opera is coming to Wellington – for three nights only! – so we popped along to see it. It was playing at St James Theatre, oddly enough, and not the Opera House, which would be the natural choice for a, you know, an opera!

As is tradition, we went out for dinner first. My first choice, Kisa, was apparently fully booked out, so instead we went to Liberty – the new(-ish) venture from Logan Brown, on the sit of the old Grill Meats Beer. It’s a sharing plates type place, although Nicola declined to share my oysters, and I therefore let her eat her cheese puffs in peace. We did, however, share the beef cheek, because it was enormous, and also the side of sprouts. The sprouts were roasted, and served with sour cream, dukkah, and pickled sprouts. We enjoyed the first three of those ingredients; whoever decided to pickle sprouts, though, should re-examine their life choices.

The St James Theatre was recently revamped and reopened. What they didn’t revamp was the seats, unfortunately, and coming in at three hours long (with an interval, but even so) strains the buttocks. The plot revolves around two friends, who get engaged to their fiancées right at the beginning, and then an older friend of theirs warns them that women are fickle, and a fiendish plot is devised to test this theory. It’s all highly impractical and unlikely, and the consequences are inevitable. The music is sung well, so I am reliably informed by my opera consultant, and there were subtitles so you could understand what was going on.

We survived the seating and the whole shebang finished up on time at 10:30. Well past our bedtimes, so we hightailed it out of there and got home in superquick time.

  

10CC

We went to see seventies legends 10CC in 2015. Really? Eight years ago? Now they’re back, so we decided it was high time we went to see them again. Have they released a slew of new albums and material since then? No. 10CC are a “heritage act”, playing their greatest hits.

We went to dinner at Concord beforehand. This is a newish establishment on the Wellington foodie scene, on the site of the former Lido café. Their aim is to provide upmarket European bistro-style food, including steak-frites in various disguise, i.e. different steak cuts. I had the eye fillet with frites, although bavette and sirloin are also available. Nicola had cacio e pepe. As we hadn’t had starters, we had desserts instead – a lime tarte and crepes suzette.

We were in the back row of the stalls of the Opera House for the show. We arrived just about on time, and the support act came on. Last time we saw 10CC, the support act consisted of...10CC! Playing acoustic versions of some of the songs they’d written, in various guises, for other artistes in the 60s, before they formed the band. But this time they had a proper support band, New Zealand icons Hello Sailor, no less. If you’ve never heard of them, don’t worry. They were also big in the late seventies, produced two albums and disbanded. Then they reformed, produced four more albums, and finally ceased following the deaths of two original members. 2023 is the first time the remains of the band have got back together. They played seven songs which were big hits in New Zealand. I must try to find an album of theirs…

10CC reached the stage at around 9:00pm, and played almost a solid 2-hour set, which included some lesser-known tracks such as The Second Sitting of the Last Supper, Old Wild Men, and Clockwork Creep. Despite being a heritage act, they did include two new songs, one by Graham Gouldman, and one by Iain Hornal, a touring member of the band and artist in his own right. They also played all the classics, finishing their main set with Dreadlock Holiday, before playing an encore of an a cappella version of Donna and then an extended Rubber Bullets. That set list in full can be found here.

It was good that they didn’t play an exact facsimile of the set last time we saw them, that they’d mixed it up a bit with some deep cuts, and also had a support band. Unfortunately they weren’t selling the “I Don’t Like Cricket” t-shirts (mine’s getting a bit tatty), so I just got a tour shirt.

 

The Coven On Grey Street

Out to Circa Theatre again, to see some witches. But first, dinner at a nearby eatery, as is tradition. This time we returned to Highwater, as we’d enjoyed it last time we were there. We shared plates of burrata, snapper crudo, and roast whole flounder. All very tasty, and this is now on our list of regular haunts. Nicola was on ushing duty again, so we hied across the road so that she could report for work.

The Coven On Grey Street is a play about witches, although they prefer to be called Weird Sisters. There’s three of them, as is tradition, and you’ve met them before, in many guises. They’re as old as time, and go by various names, but are currently using Fay, Daphne and Sybil. They were on that blasted heath with Macbeth, and have been seen, and persecuted, throughout history. Now they’ve retired to Hamilton in New Zealand, a place where they can stay out of the way and not be noticed. They’ve been living separately, but are now assembled because Something Has Happened. Daphne has fallen in love, and is getting married, to a man 6,000 years her junior.

Her sisters aren’t happy with this state of affairs, and try to talk her out of it. We meet her intended, Ted, a professor of English specialising in Shakespeare. Who’da thought it? Turns out, Daphne has let on that she and her sisters are Weird, and he’s a superfan. Ted is doing everything he can to win over the sisters and gain their approval, so that the wedding can go ahead. And it does, they are wed, and Act One ends.

We were enjoined to depart the auditorium for the interval, as there were rearrangements to the set required which we should not witness. When we returned, the witches were all tied up, to the pohutukawa tree that is central to the set! Telling Ted that they were witches was a fatal mistake, because he’s not really in love with Daphne; this was just a ploy to get her to marry him, as the sisters are immune to death, except by the hand of their family…and Ted is now family! Also, he’s the Witchfinder General. What follows is a life-and-death struggle between the sisters and Ted. There can only really be one outcome.

Along the way there is philosophising, backstabbing, general chat, discussions on what Shakespeare was really like, and general tomfoolery. It ends with a big showdown, and a resolution of sorts is reached. They decide that rather than go their separate ways, they'll form (re-form?) a coven. On Grey Street.

What the play really provides is three meaty parts for older actors to really get their teeth into, and boy, do they go for it! Without hamming it up, the three sisters are played with relish by three women of an age that is usually consigned to playing granny roles.