Papeete looks as I remember it. I suppose that shouldn’t really surprise me, for one thing it’s only been a year since I was last here, and that’s not necessarily a lot of time for hugely noticeable changes. Moreover I think some places will simply always be as you remember them, no matter how much time has passed – we sculpt places to our memory, forever altering our perception of them though the lens of what once happened there.
The rustling of the harbour breeze , through the thick branches of the palm trees, the smell of plumeria crushed under foot and occasionally tire, releasing its beauty even in its destruction. The perpetual mist of the tropical rain that teasing threatens to arrive but never quite does – but instead leaves the air thick and drunken, almost as if you could take a bite out of it.
No, Tahiti has not changed…
I have though..
Actually I ventured further away from the dockside than usual today, just treasuring the fresh air, the time to stretch my legs and think for a bit. I ended up in a park I’d not stumbled on in the past, within sight of the ship, but far enough away from it that it wasn’t too much on my mind.
I had a vague notion of finding the pearl museum, but somehow never did get there (I blame the poor signage). Besides, I already have my black pearl, and my plumaria flower.
Not everything in life that is beautiful has to be perfect…
Or even permanent
No, Tahiti hasn’t changed…
But I have…
And for that? I am forever grateful…