Bora Bora on the Air Mattress E-Book

Karl Svozil

• Herausgeber: Funzl Verlag
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 42

Beschreibung

A slightly different travel report to the South Pacific paradise of Bora Bora, including visit tips for traveling and staying there. The report is based on my trip to French Polynesia in the winter of 2023/2024.

Leseprobe

I M P R E S S U M Bora Bora on the Air Mattress Karl Svozil© Funzl Verlag 2024 All rights reserved Autor: Karl Svozil Wasnergasse 13/20 1200 Wien, Österreich [email protected] ISBN: 9783951969688

Chapter 1First Impressions of the Night

From Auckland, New Zealand’s largest city, it is a five-hour flight northeast to Fa’a’a, near Papeete on Tahiti. The night flight with Air New Zealand is nearly empty, giving me the luxury to stretch out and relax. Upon arrival at one o’clock in the morning, we are greeted by intense heat—Tahiti’s sole international airport lacks both air conditioning and a skybridge.

In the immigration area, a Polynesian trio greets us with South Sea melodies, strumming ukuleles and swaying their hips gracefully. Like figures in a mechanical music box, they begin to play as soon as the first passengers approach. Their movements, reminiscent of dancing ballerinas, freeze abruptly when they run out of their flow of music—or the arrival of passengers.

Afterward, the small crowd of arrivals disperses into the island’s dim constellation of airport lights, swallowed by the surrounding Polynesian darkness. A sense of tropical despair, emptiness, and scatteredness prevails. Most passengers linger in the humid night air, awaiting their morning connections.

Unable to secure a transfer to the ferry, I wait along with the others and eventually board a very early bus bound for the quiet, slumbering Papeete—a half-hour drive to its idle port. A young couple joins me on this nocturnal journey.

Carrying my suitcase through Papeete’s deserted streets, from the bus station to the ferry terminal, feels surreal—a journey reminiscent of a ride on the Grottenbahn in Vienna’s Wurstelprater. Along the harbor, I pass a homeless man asleep, stretched out on a bench, both exposing himself at critical parts, as well as appearing exposed and vulnerable. The tropical climate allows life to spill outdoors, leading to states of neglect unimaginable in colder regions.

In hindsight, I am grateful that it did not rain during this interlude between the airport and the ferry terminal. We wait another hour on the narrow sidewalk before the gates open, bracing ourselves for a seven-hour crossing in rough weather aboard a comfortable yet chilly ship.

Chapter 2Rainy Arrival in Paradise: The Salzkammergut in Bora Bora

The rain begins softly at 6 a.m. in Papeete, then intensifies steadily. By the time we board the ferry Apetahi Express, it has become a full-blown downpour. A pervasive gloom, driven by massive rolling waves and an unbroken expanse of gray clouds, dominates the atmosphere. During one of the first stops in Huahine, I see locals with umbrellas; some resign themselves to the rain, allowing themselves to get drenched as they greet their relatives or guests. One scene stands out—a grandmother, beaming with joy as she warmly welcomes a young man with a lei, the traditional Polynesian flower necklace. Both are utterly soaked in the process, their cheerful reunion undiminished by the downpour.

A friend in Auckland, upon receiving some videos of my passage through the wild, rumbling, grayish ocean under an equally gray, stormy sky, texts me back rather annoyed, asking me not to send any more videos of that sort. He has had more than enough of this weather back in New Zealand—and, as it turns out, will have to endure much more to come.

The sea remains turbulent until we reach Raiatea, the second-to-last stop. As we pass Taha’a, the final island before Bora Bora, the Polynesian universe feels enveloped in gloom and cloud—a stark contrast to the glossy brightness and endless bluish expanses depicted in postcards and podcasts.

Approaching Bora Bora, the island looms as a dark silhouette against lighter clouds, evoking memories of Austria’s Salzkammergut region—a South Sea version of alpine melancholy. The scene stirs recollections of 1986, descending into Moscow’s overcast skies aboard a Hungarian Malev plane. Clouds blanketed everything—a universe of gray!

Holidaymakers often arrive in Bora Bora drenched and bedraggled, resembling “drowned poodles”. In this whimsical sense, Bora Bora morphs into the Sound of Music-laden Salzkammergut or a grim Moscow, and vice versa—all merging into a watery tapestry of somber experiences.

Vaitape, the island’s main town, cannot be reached directly from Raiatea or Taha’a, as the ship would risk running aground on the edges of their reefs. BBora Bora’s main island reclines lazily, like a bather in a warm tub, encircled by smaller islets known as motus and a jagged stretch of broken coral forming a protective reef. A coral reef surrounds the island, creating a tranquil lagoon.

These motus and the reef create a nearly perfect ring, similar to Mauritius but unlike Hawaii or New Zealand. Inside the lagoon, the waters remain calm. Outside, the Pacific roars with untamed force. The reef is never far away—from any vantage point on the main island, you can see the distant spray as waves crash against it. Albert Camus might have described it as “the sea releasing its dogs”. But these waves are not the Mediterranean’s gentle laps; they are towering, rolling mountains of the wild South Seas! From my hotel, their thunderous growls and snapping are ever-present, restrained by the reef’s firm grip. Even in daylight, their spray rises high, creating a perpetual white mist on the horizon.

The lagoon has an inlet and outlet, a single opening in the reef situated in front of Vaitape, the island’s main town on the west side. Entering the lagoon requires a journey along the southwest reef, ultimately leading to Vaitape.