Rejuvenate the Soul: Lift Your Spirit in French Polynesia
Explore Health & Wellness on the Islands of Tahiti and Enjoy Adventure Opportunities as Diverse as the Islands Themselves
An afternoon sailing the South Pacific waters with Tahiarii Pariente
Sailing to Polynesian Paradise.
There are those places you return to, those ones that act as markers of time in our lives. As a school of flying fish dance before my guide’s small catamaran, I realize French Polynesia -in its abundance of natural beauty, in its welcoming spirit and in its mana- has quickly become one of those places for me. Twenty-four hours ago I landed on the main island of Tahiti. I spent the day in a bit of purgatory heaven; on a gorgeous island, relaxing poolside as the sunset silhouetted Moorea in the distance across the warm South Pacific waters. There, just a year ago, I ran a marathon that unexpectedly changed the trajectory of my life. With my toes buried in the sand, I sipped a fruity Mai Tai recalling the past, enjoying the present while anxiously anticipating an entirely new adventure exploring many of the islands I’d yet to see…
A salty splash crashes against my legs as the bow of our lightweight outrigger cuts through the diamond water. Between paddles, my friend and guide tells me of his twenty-eight day, solo journey sailing from French Polynesia to New Zealand, navigating by way of the wind, sun, moon and stars. Meet Tahiarii Pariente, owner of Polynesian Escapes, luxury adventure concierge and my partner for an upcoming Raid. As Tahiarii steers our vessel toward Motu Tautau, a tiny island hugging the coast of the larger Taha’a, my world of on-the-go, Los Angeles city life dissolves into a panoramic landscape painted a never-ending variety of blues and greens. On the horizon, the famous peaks of Bora Bora hover above this shimmering ocean blanket. Tahiarii explains a great paradox, one which provokes the runner within me to smile with understanding. While sailing he’s hard at work yet deeply contemplative, relaxed in mediation.
Gliding closer to shore the water becomes as clear as fine glass. The overwater bungalows of Le Taha’a Island Resort and Spa, the only accommodations on this private island greet us. With her white sundress blowing in the breeze, a fellow traveler waves from her room’s deck. We anchor the outrigger and wade up to the beach where our host welcomes us to this exclusive 5-star, luxury escape. 58 suites and villas built in traditional Polynesian style and design, the resort is a heavenly retreat in the South Pacific. After a poolside serving of my favorite local dish, poisson cru, I explore the resort’s corral garden while drift snorkeling. Below surface large slabs of coral branch off into smaller delicate pieces. Above, sunset now colors the sky an elaborate range of pinks and purples.
Wild Run Thru Taha’a Treasures.
Early the next morning Tahiarri and I take the hotel boat shuttle across the lagoon to Taha’a, “the vanilla island.” We’ve come to run the Raid Vanira, a rigorous, team, trail event climbing 15 km through some of the toughest terrain in the country. It’s a beautiful morning for a run, although the overnight rain has left us a playground of slippery mud. The lush rainforest vegetation offers a tropical labyrinth through which Tahiarii and I compete against other pairs local to the islands with a few foreign teams sprinkled in. We occasionally break the sound of our short, focused breaths with laughter when one of us takes a fall. Attempting the Raid with an ankle swollen from a prior injury, I still consider myself a decent runner, but these trails humble me. And I love it. An inviting vanilla aroma fills the last kilometers of our jungle journey, gently asking us to slow down and savor the moment. Once back where we started, at the Potoru village, a mass of well-wishers cheer our accomplishment. Together, we finish as “the Number One Multinational Team…so what if we are the only one!,” jokes Tahiarri.
Tahiarri and I at the finish of the Raid Vanira on the island of Taha’a.
Finishing the event we jump in a safari style jeep to further explore the island’s offerings. Taha’a, one of the more secluded, undeveloped and rugged islands, is described by a kind, older woman I encounter at the local market while grabbing after run snacks. “Taha’a is like Mo’orea from fifty years ago. Slowly she’s changing.” There are no hotels, no resorts, but plenty of vanilla production and some award-winning rum as well. At Pari Pari Rhum Distillery, Tahiarri and I sip an assortment of rums, and well, just after a run, I’m quickly feeling that warm buzz. We head to Iaorana Pearl Farm for a step by step instructional detailing the intricacies of processing a pearl. Our guide explains how an oyster is seeded, at what temperature the farm must lie below the ocean’s surface and how they are cleaned upon removal. She explains how in recent years the oysters have been laid deeper and deeper as the ocean temperature continues to warm. Oysters, they’ve found, can’t survive at the levels they once did. This is a fine skilled process resulting in the high quality Black Pearls French Polynesia is acclaimed for. Our visit to Taha’a wouldn’t be complete without understanding the unique nature of the islands’ other “Black Gold,” -vanilla. At a local farm I’m guided through the long, delicate life of a vanilla plant and am shocked to learn it involves manual pollination and a delicate three to five year process before an orchid produces even one bean.
We wake to a gentle recovery the next morning back at Le Taha’a Island Resort & Spa; a yoga session and then a deep tissue massage during which the toughest choice I face is that of “vanilla, lavender or tea tree oil?” By nature I tend to be a person who enjoys movement, nonstop ‘Let’s keep going till we finish and then start something else’ type movement. But as I lay grateful to be here on this table, I continue reflecting on time. I’ve spent much of the past couple days in movement, but like the vanilla bean, I’m learning to take time to breath; to rest, recover and allow myself to be. I’m understanding it’s part of the growth process whether it be training for a marathon, making progress in business or developing a lasting relationship. Breathe.
Living Polynesian History & Mythology.
Feeling reinvigorated Tahairri and I pack the outrigger and set sail for the head of the Octopus, the heart of Polynesia, Taha’a’s sister island, Raiatea. The head of the Octopus? Exactly right. Like a constellation in the nighttime sky, the entire Polynesian region, a large mass of South Pacific waters spreading from Hawaii in the north to New Zealand in the south, is said to form the shape of a giant octopus, a mystical creature in local mythology. Symbolizing intelligence, prosperity and flexibility; representing the connection between this and another cosmos or dimension, the octopus, according to legendary anthropologist, doctor and politician, Te Rangi Hīroa (also known as Sir Peter Henry Buck) shows how the islands of Oceania are connected. The octopus symbolizes the dynamic nature of the islands, for they are always moving, always expanding. Raiatea, Buck wrote in 1938, was “the nucleus for exploration and the dissemination of learning throughout central Polynesia.” From Raiatea the rest of the Polynesian triangle was populated, but according to Buck, the island remains it's geographical and spiritual center as the “mother of lands” and “the hub of the Polynesian universe.”
Sir Peter Henry Buck’s original map of Polynesia outlining the great Octopus connecting the islands.
Arriving on Raiatea, we’re greeted by Vetea Farahei, owner of Fare Ora, a local guesthouse for travelers, surfers and adventurers. Vetea and his wife, Poekura, graciously welcome us into their home and what unfolds becomes an authentic cultural exchange I’ll cherish for the duration of my life. Tahairri, Vetea and I join Poekura in the kitchen as she slices a giant tuna caught just hours ago. Out comes a traditional American style guitar, a ukulele and a drum. It takes me a moment to step out of my comfort zone, but once I do, I’m attempting to hold a beat on the drum, while we sing both popular American songs and those local to islands. Not missing a beat, Poekura joins in with a high soprano chord complimenting the men in the room while continuing to prep dinner. This is joy.
But it doesn’t stop there. While savoring raw tuna marinated in fresh coconut milk and a small buffet of other local delicacies, Poekura decides that after sensing my spirit, Hiro will be my Tahitian name; Hiro, the god of thieves, voyaging and adventures. Little does Poekura know, since first landing on the islands a year ago, Hiro has been a presence on my shoulder. The lore, mythology and stories regarding the first king of Raiatea are the ones I not only hear most often, but gravitate and relate to most frequently. Feeling the connection between us, I graciously accept my new name.
Vetea, a proud representative of his country’s culture and history, is eager to teach the traditions and customs behind Tahitian haka. Dating back to the early 19th Century, the ceremonial dance would be performed in preparation for battle. A unifying call among warriors, and a challenge to opponents; haka today lives on by invoking rituals of the past. Large, aggressive expressions threaten the enemy, while deep chants from the stomach strengthens a warrior’s morale. Today haka can be as local as a neighborhood high school, each having its own dance. It takes Vetea multiple demonstrations to teach me the haka of his alma mater. He walks through the three main steps, then turns to me to repeat the choreography. I repeat, but lack conviction. We try again. And again. He encourages me to look inside to find and connect with the spirit and when I do the movement, the chant, consumes my body, heart and mind. Suddenly I feel what he’s been getting at. In Tahitian culture the bond of family comes first; a warrior always takes care of his own.
Hike the Soul of the South Pacific.
If Raiatea is the center of the Polynesian universe, Mount Temehani is the nucleus. While not the highest peak on the island, there is no denying its glory as the most sacred peak in all Polynesia. To hike the mountain is an honor and a privilege; it’s a pilgrimage paying homage to the culture’s ancestors, one that Tahairri and I wake up early to begin. Our trek starts at an unassuming trailhead hidden behind a simple cottage. Following a loosely marked path we hike through knee high grasses and dense jungle vegetation before entering a tall pine forest. I’m quickly transported back to my more youthful days of hiking the woods near my childhood home. Curiosity, wonder, awe; those feelings of not knowing what comes next, rush back as the hibiscus and purau of my current reality reminds me where I am.
Two steps ahead, Tahairri multitasks. He picks the occasional Ti leaf, weaving a traditional floral crown while explaining the spiritual importance of Temehani. Just as all physical Polynesia was explored and settled from Raiatea, legend says all Polynesian souls originate here too. When a Polynesian’s physical body dies, the soul returns to Temehani. Near the mountain’s highest level lies a plateau on which the indigenous tiare apetahi grows. This beautiful white flower is so rare that this is the only location in the world where it’s found. When the tiare apetahi opens its petals each dawn, souls are released from this kingdom and fly to the heavens. Arriving at the plateau we’re in good fortunes! Protected behind a fence, a small bunch of twenty flowers bloom in the midday sun, a miracle on this peak that was once covered by the flower.
Looking out from the summit of Mt. Temehani, the island of Taha’a lies within the same lagoon.
As we climb from the northern facing side of the mountain toward the southern, an almost 360° view fills our panorama. Bora Bora continues calling in the distance, while Taha’a rises much closer within our current lagoon. Reaching the top of Temehani sweeping gusts of tropical wind feel as refreshing as the small pool of gathered rainwater Tahairri and I bath in. Hiking Mt. Temehani is a true adventure, one not for the faint of heart, but one in which the heart reaps great rewards.
Saying goodbye to my new friends on Raiatea the next morning, Vetea covers my still swollen ankle with a traditional mash of local berries and a wrapping of large leaves. This is the third time he’s done so. Whether it’s truly this organic medicine at work or my belief in them, there is no doubt, with each wrapping my ankle has further recovered. I thank my friend for his inspiring kindness as I leave this island rich in culture, spirit and mythological history and board my flight to another perhaps made famous because of its much more recent history.
Explore True Island Luxury.
I land on muto Mute, across the lagoon from the main island itself. Little did I know this airport was created as a United States’ South Pacific military supply base during World War II, a strategic choice as the surrounding barrier reef provides natural protection from potential enemy forces with its lone break allowing passage in and out. In 1946, when this base closed, some Americans, so enchanted by its beauty, remained, while others returned home telling stories of this mystical “the land of the gods,” as known in Tahitian legends. Created an estimated seven million years ago from an erupting volcano, this island became the first of the Society Islands, its name literally meaning “First Born.” Welcome to Bora Bora…
Travel via plane to Bora Bora and arrive at muto Mute with incredible views of the famous peaks.
A quick speedboat ride across the lagoon brings me to the newly renovated Conrad Bora Bora Nui. The property dramatically nestles into and over shore of a private island, Motu To’opua. Arriving, the hotel literally takes my breath away as I gasp in awe. This is paradise just as we color it in our imaginations. Once situated, my host greets me with a tour of this expansive, island oasis featuring the longest stretch of white sand beach found anywhere on Bora Bora, six gourmet restaurants, tennis courts, fitness center, miniature golf for the kids or the kids within us, a swim-up cocktail bar, and a spectacular infinity pool named recently as one of the best pools in the world according to Men’s Journal.
A sunset of golden pinks over the Conrad Bora Bora pool and overwater bungalows.
That evening I’m treated to a traditional Polynesian celebration of music, dance and customs while sitting beachside and under the stars. I retreat back to my overwater, bungalow suite to prepare for bed but I’m just not ready to retire. The private pool summons, begging for a quick dip; but as refreshing as it is, it doesn’t last long. A light shines from below deck onto the calm ocean, one that I follow. Floating in the night waters, stargazing, I realize these stars -these stars- guided Tahairri to New Zealand and while no one star could do it alone, each individual acting within the collective offered guidance, offered clues. I lay there, blissfully rolling with the subtle current, thinking of this moment as a fabric of time woven together by memories of the past and desires for the future.
Practicing yoga the next morning, I’m continually struck by the spectacle before me. Bora Bora’s iconic peaks, Mt. Pahia and Mt. Otemanu, stand proud shrouded by a feathered, ring of clouds. The remnants of a once mighty volcano continue to sink further and further below sea with each passing year; once a ferocious mountain of earthly destruction, now an extraordinary monument to life, to nature, to time’s evolution. Titaua Baup, my private instructor, adjusts my posture, straightens my hips and lengthens my spine. “Loosen and stretch the backbone. It’s what gives us age. A flexible spine is a young body,” she guides.
Hours later, a full rainbow stretches across the sphere of the afternoon sky while I ride a ferry back toward the airport. The ripples of the boat fade in the distance as my time in French Polynesia comes to a close. It’s then when the gravity of Tati’s statement hits me. Time, a human-created measurement to take stock of our traumas, our victories, all those things that happen to and around us. It helps defines our hopes, aspirations and the future goals we work toward. It marks where we’ve come from and where we’d like to go. These things mold us, stiffen us in perhaps the tiniest of ways, but together can add to a stark rigidness. When in the end, what truly matters most is being open, flexible, and appreciative of this moment. This magnificent rainbow. This ferry ride across the lagoon. This Now…
A rainbow says farewell as I depart Conrad Bora Bora.
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