Magical Moorea Wedding

​My brother’s destination wedding in Moorea was one of the original “anchors” of my world tour. Before I had a detailed plan for seeing New Zealand and Australia, I knew the ANZ trip would ultimately end by flying east to French Polynesia in mid-June. It was a small, family wedding with just 13 people. A great chance for the two families to build lasting memories together, while also getting to know the island of Moorea, which was special to Vince and Rachel. And could you think of a more beautiful place to celebrate their love? It was magical.

​As with many travel stories, the process of getting there was anything but magical. I started with a redeye flight from Melbourne to Auckland, where I endured a 12-hour layover. It was a haze of McDonald’s flat whites, napping with a beanie pulled over my eyes, and browsing Kiwi souvenirs for the nostalgia hit. When I flew from Auckland to Tahiti that evening, I crossed the international date line, and time traveled backwards a day. It was now my second June 15th, after already having a substantially long one in Melbourne. This only contributed to the sense of perpetuity.

Most of the wedding group had arrived in Tahiti an hour ahead of me and found their way to the airport hotel. Despite their written directions, it was a nightmare finding the entrance to the hotel. It was dark, the signage was poor, I had a bulky suitcase, and I had already sweltered for an hour in the immigration line. I lugged my suitcase up multiple hilly driveways, only to find none of them connected with the lobby, which was tantalizing visible at the top of the hill. A group of local teenagers carry fishing rods called out to me in a language I didn’t understand. I wasn’t sure if they were trying to harass me or help me, but eventually they caught up. In the end their intentions were good, but they certainly got a laugh out of my predicament. They confirmed I was going in the right direction; soon I found the right driveway. Out of an entire year of traveling, this stressful experience was up there.

​I shared a room with my parents, who I finally saw for the first time in 8 months. A happy but groggy reunion. In the morning, I got to properly see (or meet!) the rest of the group. We took taxis to the dock and awaited the ferry to Moorea, the social thrill of conversation superseding the lack of breakfast. The tall mountains of Tahiti, the largest island in French Polynesia, were impressive now that they were visible in daylight.

​On the ferry ride, I had a light breakfast including a pineapple filled pastry, my first taste of French-Polynesia fusion food. The ferry ride was smooth and pleasant. As we approached the shores of Moorea, we spotted outrigger canoe teams racing around the bay.

The rental car agency was disorganized. We waited our turn in a courtyard with some chickens. Unfortunately, it turned out our reservation was with a different company on the other side of the bay. Thankfully the second agency was more organized, and we soon had keys for 3 cars.
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The first mission was buying groceries before the main store closed, just 30 minutes after securing the cars. It was a desperate shopping trip, trying to find comfort foods in a foreign store with foreign brands. The fruit selection was disappointing, with papayas and bananas that never ripened. The only reliable fruit were berries imported from the US. We cobbled together bags of croissants, peanut butter, coffee, yogurt, and charcuterie, and checked out right as the store prepared to close.

The second mission was getting ourselves to the villas on the other side of the island, where we’d be staying for the first four nights. The cars were stuffed with suitcases, groceries, and we tried to balance navigators between the cars, as cell reception wasn’t a given. Thankfully there was only one main road on the island, so the hardest part was knowing when to turn into the villas’ driveway. Along the way, there were many palm trees and stray dogs, lingering precariously close to traffic.
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There were three villas, all independently rented AirBNBs within the same complex. They quickly developed nicknames based on their occupants. At the top of the hill was the California Villa, with my parents, grandma, and uncle. (It was also known as the Party Villa as it was the location of the wedding reception.) The middle villa was the Vegan Villa, with Vince, Rachel, and Rachel’s sister and mom. The third  villa was mine, the International Villa. My villa-mates included Rachel’s cousins from Germany, her dad, and her Argentinian step-mom. These four were the only four I hadn’t met prior to the wedding, so it was nice to have extra time with them.

​The villa was luxurious, with a small pool, a balcony with incredible views of the lagoon, a kitchen, a spacious living room, 3 bedrooms, and 2 bathrooms. I slept in the room with no AC, but the two powerful fans kept it to a reasonable temperature. The tall, latticed roof and sliding panel doors added to the sense of grandeur. I joked that the kitchen layout came with an island – because there was a small island visible off the coast. We suspected it was the private “motu” (small island) where the wedding would take place. The villa came with a few critters too. The tiny ants were very resourceful at finding food scraps, so most food was tucked in the fridge for safe keeping. There were also many geckos, decorating the walls and windows at night and adding to the tropical soundtrack with their chirps.

​After such a busy morning, we were eager for a late lunch. We went to a local restaurant called 02 Coco for the first pina coladas and poisson cru of the trip. Poisson cru is like a coconut milk ceviche, featuring tender raw fish and veggies, and is a typical dish in French Polynesia. The waiter was a charismatic fellow who infused humor and bravado into every step of the ordering.

​Later in the evening, we drove to the Hyatt for a welcome dinner alongside the sharks and rays. The restaurant was located on the same boardwalk as the property’s overwater bungalows. After enjoying seafood crepes (and a dessert one too!) we looked over the railing and watched the underwater show.

​It was nice to have an unstructured morning for everyone to settle in. After a good night’s sleep, I went for a swim at the pool, and met up with my parents, uncle, and grandma who were finishing a morning workout of their own. The five of us picked up some poisson cru from a local mini-mart for an efficient lunch before the afternoon activity.

​A private 4WD tour with our guide “Francky Frank” was a great introduction to the island’s geography. The two 4WD vehicles were trucks with modified beds, including benches, railings, and a cover. The first stop was a viewpoint called Magic Mountain, accessed by a very steep track that consisted of two parallel rails of concrete.

​On the way up, the jungle scenery and glimpses of the mountains were an appetizer, with the best views awaiting at the top. We could see across Opunohu Bay, named for the stonefish, a venomous and well-camouflaged peril of the reef. The guide explained the geology of French Polynesia. Moorea was middle-aged compared to its noteworthy neighbors: the older Bora Bora, and the newer Tahiti. Each island formed as the tectonic plate moved relative to the hot spot below, similar to Hawaii. Over time, the volcanic mountains were sinking into the ocean, forming a ringlike atoll. Hence, the older Bora Bora has a smaller peak and a larger lagoon. In the case of Moorea, the volcanic ridge was not a perfect circle but more of a C-shape, as the lava flows carved a path like an asymmetrically melting candle. In the shallow part of the crater were two bays, Opunohu and Cook, separated by Mount Rotui. The shape of Moorea is often described as a heart-shaped, so perfect for a wedding!

​The second stop was at a black sand beach at the tip of Opunohu Bay. This was one of the deeper harbors, where a freshwater river met the saltwater ocean and caused a gap in the reef perimeter. One of the guides demonstrated a conch shell bugle call, used to announce a peaceful boat arrival (or advertise the catch of the day). As a transmitter of information, the conch was deemed worthy to play by mouth. However, Polynesian instruments for aesthetic purposes are traditionally played using the nose, like the nose flute.

The third stop was at a vanilla plantation, which was starting back up after a few years of lower production. The vanilla plants had a T-shaped trellis that allowed them to grow up, fall down, and grow up again – the vanilla pods tend to form on the downward vines. Moorea isn’t the biggest vanilla producing island, but generally speaking, French Polynesian vanilla is considered extremely high quality and fetches a premium price around the world. The plantation had examples of other tropical fruits, a friendly cat, and a café with delicious sorbets.

​The fourth stop was the Rotui juice and Manutea rum factory. Many people probably haven’t heard of Rotui, as all the juice is produced for domestic consumption! Specialization (and inter-island trade) are an important part of French Polynesia’s economy, given its small population and isolated location. The tasting sampler was all over the place, from sweet coconut rum to grassy Rhum Agricole that was so difficult to get down, it required a juice chaser. Vince and Rachel recognized the bartender and found a picture with him from a previous visit. A separate French family tried to elbow their way to the crowded counter, got into a rude argument with the bartender, and left in a huff. The gift shop had lots of treats. I thought it was funny that the non-alcoholic juices were guarded behind the cashier while the alcoholic bottles were easily accessible on the main floor.

​The fifth stop was a pineapple plantation, with the cutest little pineapples forming in the middle of spiky bushes. Yes, they grow on bushes – not on trees! Moorea is famous within the archipelago for its pineapples. At the wedding reception, mini pineapples were used as table decorations. And were also delicious as leftovers.

​The sixth and final stop was the view from Belvedere Lookout, which included Mount Rotui and its two bays. The jagged volcanic peaks and lush greenery were beautiful at sunset.

​Dinner was in smaller groups; I went to the steakhouse just down the street from the villas with my parents, grandma, and uncle. I had a pina colada, a fish fillet with vanilla butter sauce, and we shared a crème brulee in a coconut shell for dessert – yum!

In the evening, I hung out on the patio and chatted with Matteo, one of the German guests. Together we polished off a carton of Tahiti Drink, the boozy fruit juice with a hint of vanilla. Matteo and his girlfriend Kim had traveled around California with Vince and Rachel the week prior. The leadup to the wedding sure had a lot of moving parts!
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The day of the wedding had finally arrived. The women had an early start at the Vegan Villa for hair and makeup, while the men had a later start at the International Villa. I was among the first group sent to the motu, by a combination of a land taxi and a water taxi. It was an unexpected wet boarding, and our dress shoes were hastily doffed before stepping from the shallow water into the canoe, a motorized single outrigger. I later found out that Rachel, in her wedding gown, was lifted on board by the taxi driver! It was a beautiful boat ride across the lagoon, with the shadows of coral visible through the clear water. We even saw a turtle breach the surface, waving a flipper – surely a wedding greeting.

​The motu itself had a small pier and pathway made of concrete pavers. The path led to a clearing with a gazebo and chairs, set up right on the beach. Those of us on the first boat waited in a shaded picnic area. For the ceremony, we were asked to remove our shoes, but it turned out to be a rather sharp coral beach that was tough on the feet. At least the weather was kind, with a mild temperature, no rain, and sunlight during the ceremony. And our theory was correct: it was the motu we could see from the villa!

​Rachel and Vince arrived in the second boat, and looked stunning in their wedding attire. He wore a light blue suit, commissioned during their visit to Vietnam. She wore an elegant white dress, picked out in SF, that I don’t have the vocabulary to adequately describe, but I remember liking the minimalistic sleeves. Seeing them so finely dressed together with Moorea’s lagoon and mountains in the backdrop gave two differing impressions: of a picture-perfect movie wedding that shouldn’t be real, yet simultaneously, something so perfectly harmonious that my brain accepted it as an image that had always existed.

​During the ceremony, I was invited to share a little speech, including a poem that reminded me of their ethos as a couple. Rachel’s sister Val played the role of MC and unofficial officiant. (The legal wedding would occur a week later, at City Hall in San Francisco). The bride and groom shared their thoughtful custom vows. It was just perfect. After the ceremony, we stayed for some group photos on the beach. Then it was off to the Party Villa for the reception.

​The hospitality at the reception was simply phenomenal. We were met with cheerful flower leis that smelled like jasmine and live music from a singing and strumming duet. The server Pedro took very good care of everyone, bringing out tropical drinks and announcing the meal courses with warmth and sincerity.

​Chef Marc, who we later learned had his own brand of packaged food, impressed us with his creations from the first hors d’oeuvres to the final crème brulee. Some of the food highlights? The pina coladas were the best I had on the entire trip. As a seafood lover, the salmon sashimi, grilled octopus, and fish fillet were a real treat. The vegan options were similarly adored. And for dessert, the vegan cake was a bit of a celebrity. The only vegan bakery in the archipelago was on Tahiti, and so the cake had to be hand carried to Moorea aboard the morning ferry!

The parents all read speeches at the lunch reception, which were loving and sentimental. A photo album, sent by Rachel’s relatives in Germany as a gift, was another source of merriment. As tradition dictates, Rachel and Vince cut their cake and did an impromptu first dance.

It was the most idyllic afternoon, as close to paradise as one can ever reach.