There's No Place Like Home
French Polynesia is everything they say it is -- completely gorgeous and with lagoons that have colors you can't even imagine. I have never gone on a vacation where I have managed to relax so much. It was heaven on Earth. Plus, I fed some sharks and had a sting ray climb up all in my face and stuff, so that was pretty rad.
That said, their food sucks balls. With the notable exception of a dish called poisson cru (raw fish marinated in coconut milk) and the french fries. Seriously -- I did not have a bad french fry the entire time (must be the French influence). Other than that, most of our meals ranged from bad to worse (and the service from worse to atrocious), with a lovely bit of food poisoning thrown in for Jon just for kicks (he was fine, and it only lasted a night), and nice little dead cricket in the lettuce thrown in for me. To add insult to injury, that dead cricket cost more than the antibiotics one would need if one were to actually ingest the little fucker.
We got off the plane, showered, and made a beeline for Delfina. We actually ordered three pastas for the two of us. I could only manage one -- Jon took in the other two on his own. Guess he's making up for lost food so to speak.
And while I will sorely pine for my lovely little bungalows with direct access to the ocean and the fishies and such, I am happy to return to my own city, if only for the dim sum, burritos, and general culinary superiority.
I'll try to recount some of our more colorful dining experiences in the coming days/weeks. For now, I'm on deadline for Mesh until Tuesday (which I found out today and is just super sucktastic), and probably won't get a review up until after I turn in my article.
Love you. Mean it.
"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld