There Were Hulas And Hibiscus,

But Not One Cup Of Tea

Two Wednesdays this week! And now Tahiti.

WE berthed at 8 a.m. A lovely morning and there lay Papeete, the world-famed "Paradise of the Pacific”; anyway, the French version of same.

Papeete was, to me, another French waterfront town, like Noumea is now, and as perhaps Vila will be maybe in the future, dominated by Glamour, with each nostalgic local sighing for or singing of Homing to Paris; even )ur bus driver, a native of a near-by island, sang dramatically )f his yearning for France.

We struck the very time of French Celebration, Bastille Week [it is week or weeks in Papeete; not Day).

Booths along the main street of he waterfront, hastily constructed >alm ones, selling unvarying and not very appetising-looking peeled iranges; hefty sandwiches; and mattractive-looking cakes. Pea mts, which with French thrift were old in used soft-drink bottles.

I though of thousands of unused lottles in other Island ports, and ;ave them credit for sensible conomy.

The Caledonien and our Southern ?ross lay cheek to cheek, almost treathtakingly close, and tourists looded the town, but the real local /elcome which we witnessed on the /harf as we disembarked was not or mere tourists.

No, Sir, The Fleet was in, and tow that Fleet was welcomed.

Onto the wharf in regal state larched a group of tall and very landsome native men clad in deturesque grass skirts, wide, hell-embroidered belts and grace ully swinging grass cavalier capes.

Waited grass crowns with up tanding fringe of finely-combed rass made attractive head gear.

Eyes on the Girls Of course the women were also resent ... all male tourists’ eyes roved that.

They were young, and not so oung, but whether or no, how they anced! Long grass skirts and ery brief bras, frangipani, and ibiscus, like jewels in their fern rowns, and long wavy hair, all lade the girls worth looking at.

To the rhythm of drums, tummies oiled and sterns wobbled with such iolence and vigour that the sailors ome from the sea, came tumbling ff the little Naval frigates to join he dancers. Not only the ratings, ither, the officers (those of lesser ank, anyhow) were in it, too.

This curtain-raiser got us off to

a good hectic start. Old and demure travellers of both sexes came down the gangway, swinging their cameras and humming in varying voices and varying periods, little homely melodies.

On the spacious wharf were lines of palm - and - flower decorated "buses” —disguised lorries plus top and wooden seats —and eleven of them were rapidly filled for the tour. The Best People had bespoke taxis but away we went, bumpety bump! Roads actually very good, and tar-sealed for miles.

As to where we went and what we did I must shamelessly quote our tour literature: Tour No. 3, "departing from wharf to Avenue a le Union Sacree, which affords a good view of the Diademe (Crown) mountain . . . landmark of Tahiti”, We cross Fautaua Bridge; on your (our) left Fautau Stadium; the town, so we are told, has also two smaller playing-fields, for a population of 16,000 inhabitants.

On into the district of Ahue, where Tahitian history begins.

From Taharaa Hill (which Capt.

Cook named One Tree Hill), we overlook Matavai Bay, which Wallis (first navigator to arrive in

That tireless ex-Territorian, Alice Allen Innes, who has written many stories of New Guinea and Fiji, went off travelling again last year, and from the United Kingdom has sent this amusing item about what happens when Suburbia meets Polynesia. . . .

Tahiti, in 1767), entered. He wa followed by Captains Cook an< Vancouver a few years later.

Memories of Cook

We come to “Pointe Venus’ 1 named in memory of Capt. Cook’ observation of the transit of plane Venus; and we are told that th( East Coast of the island is th< least populated side, while the Wes Coast, where most powe r f u "princes” lived, is where the lane is flat and more developed. It ii protected from winds and rain b: high mountains of the interior.

In a narrow valley is the Lepe: Settlement (Orafara) where nev cases are being cured in about sh months, due to new drugs anc excellent medical services.

Crossing a bridge over th( Papenoo river we "glimpse th< largest Valley in Tahiti”. Here some of the sacred places where chief: competed in archery contests car still be seen. Nobody lives now ir Papenoo Valley. ("Why,” came frorr many of the agriculturally mindec tourists in our bus).

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Dm Hitiaa village appears the nsular of Taiaprau “upon ing the ford you see a water far in valley”. The road now > inland, and follows the trail I which hundreds of natives to haul the Chiefs’ canoes one side of island to other, stop at Tarauao village for shments. But NO TEA, avail and howls from all on board! sver, it is the only place to (and drink) on this side of d.

Eels with Ears road further along leads to iria, Tahiti’s only lake, where, le story goes, are many eels, large ears. tween Matatea and Papara is argest plain of Tahiti. During American Civil War it was a n plantation and I am left the hope that it turned out profitably than did the sorry cotton venture, of the same w it is a cattle ranch; and also now grow the delicious grapefruit. to the residential districts of and Punaauia. In Paea we the Marae Arahurahu, the tian Temple of pagan days, e local authorities have done le job in re-constructing this ual and well-kept area, water-worn stones so placed they formed a series of ced platforms. tices in French and English nn the ancient customs and ry, and even the most ring tourist could not fail to npressed with the beauty and tion of the lovely area, set een steep and colourful hills, d now to a bungalow type of

hotel, whose host, Monsieur Rivnac, has had a native feast prepared, to be served in native fashion. Pig, taro, dalo, fish in coconut and lime, marinated to a delicious absorption, delicate flavours intermingled. A novelty most tourists enjoyed.

I do not know how many tourists had been anticipated but at least five hundred people turned up.

Eleven buses and 20 odd taxi-cab loads.

The crowd was huge, hungry and very impatient as there had been almost an hour’s delay on the wharf before we got away. But there was, inevitably, the most amusing reaction on all sides to the table appointments of banana

leaves, as table cloths; half coco nut shells filled with “lolo” sauce to dip food into; and neat bamboo water containers for drinking.

“What! No tea?” from a hundred thirsting tourists.

Perils of Travel Bamboo containers —half sections looking attractive with pieces of food —cooked in a native oven, caused varying comments.

“No knives and forks!”

“No spoons!”

And on either side of us howls of dismay, “I won’t eat with my fingers”.

“Disgusting!” (over)

r ou can’t eat that, those people ite put their dirty paws right ;he food things!” ... f 9 „ lat is this thingame tor. lo wish we could get tea and Hches—or a good grilled steak". ing aloof and unhappy were uspicious and superior ones, ring for food of suburbia moaning over the missed oon “cuppa” and now to he lot strange food and no rj f nwhile we who came to live earn thoroughly enjoyed the et, used the water from >o containers and our now coconut shells for finger wiped on the paper napkins

id had the forethought to and gave thanks for a really us meal. i, the sunset over Moorea. the dullest of tourists could niss that beauty. Stark, peaks of fantastically steep silhouetted against the ng sunset colours, with a 3 of light radiating through. middle-mists confused the camera fiends and the swift )f sunset caused dismay to careful photographers who with elaborate time res, and meters, and such ive things I know not of. So lovely chances —lost to i the food-conscious mutterers be unfed lapsed in silence, le sensed the response to the iment. Tahiti certainly has ling. steep mountains look as i a giant cane knife had been i against the huge landscape, ‘V” indents forming deep ious valleys.

Chronic Moaners

at point of departure I think remember Papeete most for larming and capable Madame from the Tahitian Tourist i, who so capably handled

our terrific invasion and flew tirelessly from a group of dancers to the catering dept.; soothed the chronic moaners and explained patiently in French and English (and maybe other tongues) to the confused and fussy ones.

And I will remember the fun, the fine roads, the thousands of people on two wheels natives and Europeans alike own Lambrettas, scooters, and motor bikes or homely old pedal-pushers. „ , . , . , The exchange rate is very high, and the prices of everything seemed terrific, on our reckoning. Three small bottles of beer worked out at £AI; coffee, which is local and delicious, was about 1 '6 a cup. The native market, very like Suva’s

new markets, and clean and attractive, hinted at high cost of native food. Limes at 1/- dozen; 1/6 for three bananas (tourist touch!) and 4 - for a medium sized yam. Still, it was possibly not a nqrmal pirice as Papeete had a carnival time ln P ° rt ’ and W&S It was a grand day of contrasts, but looking back, I think that if mine host, at his luscious native banquet, had supplied bamboo forks, or shell spoons, the genteel diners and the conventional consumers may have had merrier memories of that meal ' Although we, who took stock of the unbending ones, would have missed a lot of fun.