I could start with something big, like the view from Belvedere Lookout. It's a summit-to-seashore panorama that plunges from the craggy 2,694-foot peak of Mount Rotui down jungle-draped slopes to turquoise bays on either side, and the white lace of surf along the coral reefs beyond. Or I could start with something small, say, the way Tahitians decorate every available level surface with orange-red hibiscus flowers, even around the sinks in the airport restrooms, even in the men's. Americans who dream of Tahiti, and its sister islands such as Moorea and Bora Bora, expect to hear about such things. That's the postcard Tahiti. It's there. It's breathtakingly beautiful. And it's real. But that's not the whole picture. Postcards never are. Instinct tells me that most Americans who visit "Tahiti and Her Islands" -- that's the ad-savvy name for what dictionaries still call the Society Islands -- probably have already been to Hawaii. And though Tahiti can't offer any statistics to prove my theory, comparisons are inevitable. But for better and for worse, Tahiti is nothing like Hawaii. For better . . . There are fewer tourists. Hawaii gets more visitors in 10 days than Tahiti does in a year, according to Tahiti Tourisme. It's more rural, more grass-shack lazy, slower paced. The entire population numbers fewer than 250,000. Other than Papeete, there are no cities, and only a scattering of spots in the road that resemble a town. On Moorea, where I spent a week in January, hotels are few and often miles apart, not lined one after another along the beach. Not like Waikiki. Not like Kaanapali. Swimming and snorkeling is safer. The giant open-ocean waves that create the famous, and sometimes dangerous, surf in Hawaii never reach Tahiti's/Moorea's/Bora Bora's shorelines because of the protective barrier reefs. Water in the resulting lagoons generally is calm and clear, ideal for viewing fish, even without diving, even without a snorkel, even without getting wet. For worse . . . Goods and services are incomprehensibly expensive. In the gift shop at my budget hotel, I paid almost $27 for a 4-ounce bottle of Hawaiian Tropic sun block. I rented a five-speed Ford Fiesta for 24 hours and waved $91 goodbye. Gas prices were Europe-high. A local plate lunch of hamburger patty, scrambled eggs and rice, with soft drink, totaled $18.75. Fewer tourists means fewer hotels -- only some 40 in all of Tahiti and Her Islands. And here, though it's possible to stay in a campground or a pensione (a sort of B&B), fewer hotels translates to fewer lodging choices, and vast price gaps between the three or four budget hotels on Moorea and the four luxury resorts here. In fact, there are fewer choices all the way 'round. Dining options are limited, especially for people staying in the luxury resorts that are beyond reasonable walking distance to local restaurants; and the resorts may not advise guests about restaurants that offer free shuttle service or delivery. Water sports are confined to the resorts or to group tours. Land activities consist of renting a car or a motor scooter, joining a circle-island sightseeing tour or taking the odd hike. Shoppers will find a short list of locally made gift items: black pearls, vanilla beans, straw hats, fruit liqueurs, a body oil called monoi and a few hand-painted paraeus, or sarongs. All the other island-y souvenirs come from Indonesia -- just as in Hawaii, only they cost lots more. Example: those shell necklaces that go two-for-$1 at ABC Stores in Hawaii cost $3 to $4 apiece on Moorea. Unless you are doing some serious honeymooning or staying over in Papeete, nightlife equals hanging around the hotel bar, waiting for the hotel's once-a-week Polynesian dance revue or taking in the $88 Tahitian buffet-and-show at Tiki Village Theatre. | | And, finally, this is French Polynesia, heavy on the French. French is the official language, with Tahitian running a close second. English is spoken at the hotels and a few local restaurants -- where it may take them a while to find an English menu -- though the vocabulary may be rather limited, with resulting frustrations or miscues. Not that many Americans come to Tahiti and Her Islands: just over 100,000 in 2001, statistics show. Maybe that's because we Americans have always envisioned just getting to Tahiti as beyond our means. And it can be. Booked independently over the Internet, the lowest coach fare from Chicago you're likely to find is $1,165 and the lowest hotel rate $234 a night, though if you want to stay in one of those dreamy over-water bungalows worthy of a magazine cover, budget for $700 or more a night. Because most people travel in pairs to Tahiti, and tourism figures show that most couples stay at least seven nights, a week's do-it-yourself vacation could cost at least $3,968 per couple in the cheap hotel, $7,230 and up per couple in the fancy bungalow. But fancy resort or budget hotel, there's really not that much to do on Moorea. There's the beach: long, white and groomed at the Sheraton, though by day sunbathers must share it with the random wild hen-with-chicks, and by night moonlight strollers must share it with a contingent of crabs. And there's the beach: skimpy and brown and used for canoe "parking" at Club Bali Hai, where the water doesn't invite wading because it is muddy in some spots and thick with coral in others. You can take a scuba diving or snorkeling excursion to feed the sharks, kiss a ray and have a cookout on a beach with more wild chickens. The island also has a couple of recommended hikes, and a ferry service that can get you to Papeete in 30 to 60 minutes depending on which boat you take. You can practice your French with the locals. Or you can join a 4x4 tour, best taken in the morning, that circles Moorea making stops at a pineapple field to learn the difference between old and new farming methods, a juice factory/distillery to sample tropical fruit liqueurs, an agriculture school to learn about the pollination of vanilla, a waterfall that may or may not be flowing, a pre-Western-contact temple site and that scenic overlook at Belvedere I started to tell you about. Maybe it's the way the clouds catch on the mountain peaks, the way the sunlight filters through the tree branches and the birds bark coarse refrains, but there's something about Moorea that conjures the dawn of time, a place still misty from the steam of creation. It really is worth seeing. But worth how much? Worth the price of a cheap package trip? Certainly, if the air conditioning and the mosquitoes and the roaches don't get to you. Worth the expensive meals once you get there? Yes, if you're willing to economize on some of them with pizza deliveries and picnic makings. Worth spending a whole week on just one island? Only if you reeeeeally need to rest and get away from it all. For people who want a livelier itinerary, the tour packagers offer deals that combine two islands -- Tahiti and Moorea, Moorea and Bora Bora, or Tahiti and Bora Bora are the most common pairings -- or even three in a week to 10 days; and those packages include the necessary flights back and forth. Naturally that'll cost more. But this is Tahiti. Get used to it. Or go to Hawaii. |
