101 ways to eat a baguette
Trip Start Oct 09, 2006
30Trip End Sep 2007
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It was boiling when we arrived, we changed into shorts, changed some money and checked t'internet for how to get across to Moorea, the island where our digs where.
We took a taxi to the ferry, Sharon turned green on the ferry ride across to Moorea, then we got the local bus which was already rammed with people and squeezed ourselves and our backpacks on as well.
Camp Nelson was basic, we spent most days only venturing as far as just outside our room to the lagoon, or just further down the road to get a baguette with Jam, Ham, or cheese to eat for breakfast lunch or dinner.
We both got quickly sunburned and had to swim with Tshirts on for a while
The food in the restaurants was very good, and we saw a show at a traditional village, where the locals showed us how to open a coconut, Sharon was dragged on stage to help.
There are Chickens everywhere, and they don't stop with the cock a doodle dooing all night and all day. Their numbers were reduced by one when a local dog pounced from behind a hedge and after a sprint and chase caught a chick before our eyes.
We decided to upgrade to a right hole of a place further along the island. Our bedroom faced the car park, whenever a car came in the lights came right through the door lighting up the room.
The chickens did their usual thing during the night, But the dogs join in around here.
Further around the Island is a smalled island called Motu-ahi. Here we snorkeled in the lagoon, I pointed out a couple of black tip sharks to shaz and this seemed to unsettle her somewhat. I could tell this by the way she almost garroted me grabbing my T shirt collar trying to clamber onto me and out of the water. The stingrays had a similar effect.
Late in the first night we awoke to strange scratching noises. I grabbed a torch, we thought maybe a few cockroaches or something
I plucked up enough courage to grab a sandal and knock him along a bit toward the door, he took the hint and ran sideways out the door.
In the morning we found a hole behind the sink where he must have come from so I blocked it with a large rock.
The next night, the same scurrying noises, I put the torch on the crab. The crab stopped as before, but this time as I stepped out of the bed he raised his big claw and made a dash for me. I jumped back into bed to get out of his way, grabbed the sandal and, feeling braver with the weapon, herded him outside again.
We checked the rock, it had been moved out of the way by the crab, maybe that was why he was pissed off.
We left out the following morning, paid the extortionate bill and headed to the airport and Rarotonga.