It was a warm summer morning in Bora Bora and my wife was eagerly anticipating her trip to the new spa located at a premier resort in Bora Bora.? Despite generous amounts of sunscreen use during the preceding days, I was too burnt to enjoy a massage or even the most subtle of spa treatments.? Hence, I decided to “explore” the remote portions on our island and started with an intriguing and inviting jetty.? Armed with my digital camera and flip-flops, I was off!
A mile or so away from the resort, and decidedly off of resort property, I came across the humble makings of a small community. But where were the locals, the people of the village?? After 20 more minutes of pictures and wandering deeper into remote countryside, I came across a few seemingly kind locals including one that I would respectfully classify as an “elder”.? I politely asked permission to wander the camp and take photos.? With a smile and short snicker, he agreed!? Several more minutes into my journey I came across a? native island woman (around 40 years old) who was in the middle of finishing a hand-thatched basket.? Continuing to extend courtesy and politeness, I asked if her large, snarling, hunch-backed, dingo-looking, missing-patches-of-fur dog would bite me!? She kindly smiled and said YES!? No pause with a joke or further dialogue…………… YES!
I was able to walk to my left and toward the surf to side-step the Tahitian Kujo only to find three of his friends, all equally hungry and ravenous, waiting 30 feet down the shore line!? Picture Fun Time was now over!? I managed to duck between two huts, run through an abandoned fire/ burn pit, jump through thick jungle, cross several “backyards”, navigate several latrines, and run a mile over slippery jetty to make it back to the spa.? Keep in mind this was after? I dropped my palm-tree branch that I had acquired for protection.
? The lesson here……………………………….
? Go to the spa when your wife wants to.?
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