It's time to say goodbye to relaxing island life on Moorea, French Polynesia. We really have enjoyed how laid back, quiet and beautiful it is here. The island has no main-street town, just a few clusters of small, nondescript buildings you'll miss if you turn your head for a second to gawk at the mountains soaring above. A little market and maybe a restaurant or two—that are hard to tell if open—are enough to constitute a town on Moorea's map.
A week into our trip at the end of January, we made a hasty decision to change our departure flight to leave French Polynesia a few weeks earlier. We thought there was no way to stay within our budget with the high food costs and spendy accommodations that were triple the price of our other destinations. But the longer we were here, the more tasty cheap-eats we found. Food trucks are a popular way to eat out here and perfect for eating safely during COVID times. Card tables are set up near the beach or road for you to enjoy eating their carpaccio, ceviche, egg rolls or bbq sandwiches. We cooked at home most of the time though. Trying to create meals out of a smaller selection of food than we are used to, along with limited kitchen supplies, put our cooking skills to the test.
We became regulars at this food truck ran by the sweetest two ladies.
Moorea has felt relatively COVID-safe because the island isn't very populated and with no main places to gather, there are no crowds. Our days here consist of swimming, kayaking, taking drives around the rural island and relaxing on our patio, making it easy to social distance.
One of many pristine churches we passed on our drives. I found it interesting how the churches are plopped on a lawn with no pavement or stairs leading up to the main entrance or around the perimeter.
Tahiti and Moorea are not condusive to getting your steps in because the roads have no shoulder and the sun is too intense. Austin and I would deplete the island's sunscreen supply. Not to mention, a bottle of sunscreen ranges from $25-35 in the grocery store! We've only walked more than a half-mile a day a few times in the last three weeks.
Our Airbnb host, Caroline, is so sweet and gracious. We enjoyed hearing her stories about living on Moorea during her couple of short visits to check on us. She relocated from France, like 20% of the island's population, 20 years ago. Our Airbnb hosts are the people we talk with the most during our travels. Sometimes they are the only people we will have a conversation with during our entire stay besides small chit-chat with a store clerk. That's one downfall to traveling during COVID. You don't interact with locals or other travelers as much as you would pre-COVID. Back in the day, you'd share a table with strangers in a European pub and leave as friends by the end of the night. Or you'd meet up with your fellow hostel mates for an all-day adventure.
On Feb. 1, the local government announced tourism into French Polynesia would be closing on Feb. 3—traveling during a pandemic always keeps you on your toes! Because no new tourists would be coming in, all flights going out would be discontinuing in one week. This happened to fall within the week of our flight so we didn't have to make any changes. We were given the option to ride it out and stay (they set a target date of April 1), but not knowing exactly when we could leave was too unsettling for me. We considered it because we have felt so safe here but decided not to risk it. Did we miss our chance to be stuck on an almost-deserted tropical island!?!
The beach closest to our Airbnb.
Ever since we arrived in Tahiti, we couldn't decide on our next destination. We had arrived here with a ticket to Los Angeles because we had to present an outbound ticket to enter French Polynesia. LAX is one of Tahiti's few route destinations, so we had booked LAX as our connection to... nowhere. With COVID causing most countries to close their doors and not wanting to put anyone at risk, we were at a standstill. None of our options felt right and neither, Clint nor I, wanted to be the one to make the final decision. So, we procrastinated until the final hour. After going in circles for a couple of weeks, on the eve of our departure flight to LAX, we decided to fly to Tulum, Mexico. Knowing that Mexico is not faring well now makes me very uneasy, but we tried to choose an area with fewer cases and one closer to the US if we had to exit and go home quickly. We booked an Airbnb that we could lay low in for two weeks.
Double masked and about to board now...
We are on the plane and Clint just opened his backpack and noticed a half-filled glass jar of pickles inside he had forgotten about. Hmmm… we are a little concerned that his pickle juice made it through security…
On the plus side, we were each able to claim our own row again for the flight. Good night.
Clint's birthday celebration on our patio. Austin eagerly planned the menu and was the main chef.
Every time we passed this palm forest on our drive around the island, I thought of the "Where the Wild Things Are" book cover.
On our way to our third Covid test in three weeks. This test was the first one at the airport which was so convenient.
Haha, Uncle Mike! I remember Macaille’s airport jam incident! What a waste of good homemade jam!! I had a similar experience once with the kids Play-Doh. Security didn’t know what to do with it! We maintain the same weight because some places we overindulgent with all of the wonderful food options and other places lack in quality food and availability.
The pickle jar reminds me of Macaille bringing some Rhubarb jam at our reunion in Montana and they confiscated it at the airport. They made kind of a big deal out of it! Ha! Are the kids gaining any weight ? The meals have looked so great everywhere you have been.
You could of had a Martini with the pickle juice in the plane😃
The pickle jar? We thought now what an interesting blog title! Leave it to your husband 🥒 the pickle lover 😝 You guys got lucky there! It must be so hard leaving this tropical paradise. Your pics are breathtaking!