Marquesas - Nuku hiva

 23rd

Today we flew to the Marquesas islands, a dream finally come true.

We ordered a taxi to pick us up at 3.30am. for our early morning flight. The driver said all good, no worries, sans soucis.

At 3.50am no sign of driver, so ring his number and clearly wake him out of deep sleep. No worries, sans soucis, j'arrive. 10 minutes later he arrives in a sleep daze, no excuses.

Our airbnb was on a very steep wooded hill, the dirt track being just wide enough for a car.

We set off in the dark at hair-raising speed. He misses a sharp turn, skids in the mud, brakes violently, comes to a screeching stop. His phone flies through the front onto the floor and makes a shrill, incessant beeping sound until we reach the airport.

We reverse then shoot down to the airport where he emphasises no need to arrive more than 30 minutes before a domestic flight, so nothing to see here, he thinks that’s as much of sorry as we get. I can't wait to jump out, not a time to discuss the finer details of bullshit.

Air Moana, a local airline, does a splendid job of winging us in 4.5 hours to the Marquesas Islands. Happy family groups are on board with ukeleles, ready to harmonise and take lots of selfies.

The weather smiles on us as we start banking over the stunning, razorsharp peaks of Tahuata island in bright sunshine for a stopoff for 20 minutes on Hiva Oa before hopping to our destination, Nuku Hiva.

For our transport for the next few days, we pick up our Hilux Ute keys from the snackbar lady. We spend an hour winding up and down 1100metres of altitude on concrete road through grass meadows and pine forests, then follows a steep hairpin descent through tropical forest to the island’s capital Taiohae for a steak frites at le snack on the petit quai where roosters danced on unwary diners' tables in pursuit of leftovers.

Our Airbnb has a great view of the bay where international yachties are bobbing at anchor. Fresh fruit is on the table, groceries and booze available at two shops a minute's walk away.

Morning dawned bright and clear for a walk back to the petit quai to view the artisanal market, traditional tiki stone sculptures, and the morning's fish catch being cut up on outdoor tables.

We spend 5 hours driving narrow, hairpin roads to and from Taipivai, Hatiheu, Ho'oumi and back again..., up, up and down, down, avoiding bleating goats, mares with foals, gawking dogs, and pigs with piglets aplenty. A brilliant day of intermittent sun and rain, typical tropical style, in the lushest of utterly astounding surroundings where fruit rained down from loaded trees, only to plop in huge splodges narrowly missing my head. On my tombstone it will say: floored by breadfruit and mangoes, but he said he loved fruit.

En route, we stop at ceremonial grounds, some recent, some so impressively redolent of the tribal past, carefully tended stone and thatch buildings, surrounded by giant, mystical banyan trees and the aura of tropical excess rain, fierce humidity, the sweat of 1000 plants and trees living a riotous life in abandon.

In the evening, we visit the local restaurant, our arrival there graced by a faultless performance of Fawlty Towers in the Marquesas, by a deadpan, grumpy waitress. Ah, here is the menu, please choose. You want that red wine, no, you can't have it, either this one or nothing. You want fish, then you have also two accompanying sides, no you cannot have only one, you must have two. The grump was fair to both foreigners and locals in her gruffness: when locals parked a little askew, she let fly at the hapless driver until she realigned.

We loved it. The meal was excellent, a bottle of beaujolais plus fish of the day in house sauce, and fish in vanilla sauce, together with those hard won accompanying sides of sweet potatoes and green beans, enough to easily sink our battleships.

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French Polynesia, Nuku hiva, Marquesas, Marquises, Taiohae, Taipivai, Hatiheu, Ho'oumi