Moorea: Bringing Geologists Wet Dreams to Life

After 36 hours of exploring the “ugly step-sister” of French Polynesia, we departed the island of Tahiti, destined for our next water-surrounded landmass: Moorea (or Moʼorea if you prefer the haphazard mid-name apostrophe)

A mere 30-minute ferry ride away, the island of Moorea is as if the volcanic gods decided to apply their lessons learned from Tahiti, and utilize the following, appropriately-named tactic. Everything, and I do mean, everything was, well, "more." The peaks of the mountains, reaching almost a mile into the sky (i.e. more high). The drops of said mountains, falling spectacularly toward the ocean floor below (i.e. more low). The color of the water, encompassing shades of blue of which even Crayola has yet to dream (i.e. more marketing required). And of course, everything, literally everything, covered in lush, green, well… life. So yeah, more. In Moorea. See what I did there? (apply self-pat of back for semi-successful use of literary device).

While only 10 miles in diameter, every square inch of Moorea was majestic. Stunning. Stupefying (at least, in the non-Harry Potter sense).  A place that is indescribable, unless utilizing the ever-so-useful means of Microsoft Word's built-in Thesaurus. In which case, see the previous 1,015 words. A destination, that if the newest generation chose to visit (i.e. if you ignore that whole can't find a job / can't afford a house dilemma), it would definitely be described as "totally un-sus" (that's gotta be something they say, right?).

OK, I think I overdid that a tad. In summary, Moorea = Very, very nice. 

Onto the highlights:
 
Geology Porn – Lush landscapes, towering mountains, crystal-clear lagoons, pristine beaches. Thanks ChatGPT, your optimistic descriptors are a welcome reprieve from my typical cynical outlook. Also, thanks for always being such a good listener. You're the best!
 
Hiking – When surrounded by mountains, you climb. Or maybe a bit more appropriate, when surrounded by mountains AND your wife is not a huge "beach/water/pool enthusiast," then, in this case, you climb. Yes, that version felt much better. 

• Magic Mountain – While I was secretly hoping we would be welcomed at the 650-foot peak of Magic Mountain by this person, instead, our hike to the summit ended in very touristic, un-illusion-y fashion – Beautiful views, peaceful surrounds, and some ass-hat with a drone ruining it for everyone.

• Three Coconuts Pass – The longer, and more drone-free of our two hikes was that of Three Coconuts Pass. A 3-1/2 hour, 4-mile journey through muddy mountain-side forests, ending with a view, strikingly similar to that at the trailhead (i.e. from 3-1/2 hours ago). But hey, at least we got to experience what hiking in 300% humidity feels like with absolutely no semblance of a breeze! #swampassforthewin

 
Refresher Scuba Dive – With almost 4 years having passed since my last exploration into the depths of the ocean, a “refresher” course was needed to help me recall, well, how exactly not to die. And thus, I contacted a local outfitter, in hopes of having a relaxing re-entry into the world of scuba. An aspiration I held, until quickly realizing, relaxing was not on the docket for that day. For example:

• Goal = Calm & peaceful dive
• Dive Shop Promise = Yup, that. In the shallow & protected lagoon
• Actual = JK, we gonna go past the protective reef barrier, and check out the open ocean. On a windy ass day. Like gale force windy day. Also let's try a depth of 60-80 feet. That feels "refresher-esque."

• Goal = Skills refresher (e.g. how to use that whole breathing device thingy)
• Dive Shop Promise = Yup, also that. We will do an in-depth review of all the skills needed to keep you safe while diving underwater. And if we have some extra time, we can do some “exploring”
• Actual = JK, you seem fine. Let’s just skip straight to exploring, and hope for the best! And maybe we can talk about the safety stuff afterwards. But probably not. That actually seems like a lot of effort. 

• Goal = See a turtle
• Dive Shop Promise = You shall see turtles
• Actual = Turtles were seen. I. Love. Turtles. Not as much as this kid. But close. Very very close.

 
Snorkeling – My 2nd attempt at exploring the oceanic realms, kept me more at a surface level. Visiting the famous Temae Beach, where “the reef meets the beach… at the beach.” Literally 10 feet off shore were fields of coral, colorful fish and a bunch of pale French snorkelers all pretending they were not inadvertently swallowing copious amounts of salt water. Isn't snorkeling the best?!
 
Airbnb – Pool. Mountain view. Outdoor shower. The only appropriate reaction. Also, with the average restaurant entrée costing anywhere from $35 - $40, I think we can opt for a couple home-cooked meals.
 
Food – Speaking of which, without diving into the various seafood-inspired culinary options of Moorea (i.e. over-priced restaurants, over-priced groceries), instead, I'd rather just rank our most memorable meals:

• Best Meal = Snack Manaha – Local “food truck” offering a delectable sampling of the French Polynesian specialty: “Poisson Cru” (i.e. raw fish with a side of deliciousness). Also, doesn’t hurt when you get your own private “cabana” next to the ocean at which to enjoy aforementioned dish.
• Worst Meal = Everything else. Which, while still tasty, was no Snack Manaha. And yes, that includes you, store-bought, imported pasta. And you too, store-bought, imported pasta sauce. And I can’t leave out, everyone’s favorite -- Store-bought, imported, parmesan cheese. Cause, come on. We fancy like that.
• Most Salmonella-y Meal = The single egg, from the dozen purchased at the grocery store, whose yolk, despite being cooked/fried, was a whitish, slimy, goo? Hard pass please

 
And now, onto the single lowlight:
 
The Expats – It is relatively unsurprising that an island destination such as Moorea, has convinced many a traveler to reconsider where to call home. It is also unsurprising, that the majority of recently-mentioned travelers formerly resided in a country who decided to declare ownership (and of course, naming rights) over this very region (i.e. France). But, what is truly the most unsurprising element of all, is the laid-back-totally-not-up-their-own-ass Parisian attitude, which refused to cease whatsoever upon relocation to Moorea. And maybe was even accentuated a tad. Thus creating an environment where the "I am better than you because I live here" attitude is relentless, pervasive and on display from every bathing-suit-clad moped driver speeding around the island.

One fun example of this involved a middle-aged Francophone, who happened to be seated with us at our private cabana at Snack Manaha. Yet only chose to communicate with our waitress, despite sitting directly across the table from, well, us. After several meaningful attempts on our end to elicit in conversation (e.g. "hi," "howz it going?" "enjoying this whole vow of silence thing?"), we sat quietly for about 12 minutes, until our "hostess" relocated us to the cabana "next door." 

No merci, s'il vous plait. 

Onto the pics: