It’s practically midday on the island of Nuku Hiva, a surprising volcanic island on the fringes of French Polynesia.
I’m sitting on a deck searching at a glittering bay, practically totally encircled by dramatic peaks coated in fluffy inexperienced bushes, bushes, and flowers, and fringed by black sand. White birds dance in pairs by the sky. I’m tempted to pinch myself to ensure it’s not a dream.
One in every of my favourite issues about visiting French Polynesia is Polynesian hospitality. Everybody says hi there, everybody has a smile to offer, and every thing about it appears to beg you to decelerate, keep some time, calm down, what’s the frenzy?
And for my first day right here, I used to be totally immersed. I felt the sweetness and marvel, so why am I feeling the alternative now?
Why is at the moment so arduous?
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