Our last day on the island we visited a pearl farm. We boarded the boat and zoomed across the lagoon, getting a good look at the huts/houses built out in the middle. Some were decrepit, some were veritable mansions.
As we pulled up at the farm, the first thing I noticed was a dog! Black doggie was hunting out something in the water. It ended up just being a piece of string, but at this point I didn’t care about the pearls, I just wanted to pet the dog.
And I got my chance. There were actually two dogs, Maya and Sebastian. Maya was the black dog I had seen down at the water. Both dogs were extremely friendly and wanted to be petted. As I listened to two presentations about Tahitian pearls, one in French and one in English (still not understanding a lick of French) Maya came over to be scratched and petted. It made me not so sad to be leaving the island, because she had those same big eyes that Milo has, and I couldn’t wait to get home to him.
After the presentation was finished, and we knew everything there was to know about the pearls (it was like a classroom presentation, but being the geek I am, it was cool), we went into the working area and saw the process first-hand from a grafter. She showed us how it was like being part dentist/part gynecologist as she peeked inside an oyster to see if it had the correct coloring (this would be the dentist part), then pried open another shell to implant the nucleus with the meat that gives the pearl its color (and this would be the latter part).
Apparently I looked like the best mark for being grossed out by eating an oyster, because the woman leading the tour kept teasing me about eating one. I love oysters, so I was definitely game for trying one that was this fresh. I think the entire group (with exception of Raju) was suprised that I ate it. It was good, but it looked nor tasted like any kind of oyster I’ve ever had. It was served to me on a mother of pearl shell with a little lemon juice. The meat was tougher and more chewy, instead of the slimy oysters we eat here. Think sea scallop. But it was tasty, and I wouldn’t have turned down a dozen of them with a bottle of wine for sure.
After the oohs, aahs, and giggles that the blonde, American girl had eaten the oyster, it was back to the boat for us, zooming across the lagoon, and back to the hotel room to pack. We did stop by the shop to buy a few pearls, then we had our last meal at the resort.
Which brings me to the coconut pie. For days I had tried to order the coconut pie for dessert. The first day I ordered it they had just ran out. Each subsequent day, they didn’t have it. But today, oh yes, today they had the coconut pie. So I eagerly ordered it — not because I love coconut pie, but I had been craving what I couldn’t have.
But, my hopes were dashed. Before I could have my coconut pie, reception called and said we needed to leave immediately in order to make it to the airport. What??!! It’s within walking distance and there’s nothing there! Why would I need to leave an hour before my flight? Why can’t I have my pie?
“Oh, you’re not going to the airport you came in at. You’re going to the real airport today.”…
