Greetings from Robinson Crusoe

never mind, I’m a woman. I am “shipwrecked” in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Island: Huahine, one of the 118 beauties of Polynesia, part of the Leeward Islands, unpretentious sister of the famous Bora Bora, the rich man’s playground. Land of everybody’s dreams, normally.

Me, a castaway in the 21^st century on a lovely island? in a dormitory with Wi-Fi, unreliable but still …

For one thing I can’t go to the roaring party in the Yacht Club next door with live music and everybody having a good time … because I am running low on CFPs (Polynesian Francs). It’s not a Yacht Club, it’s a sunset restaurant with a fancy name.

I have been in survival mode, ever since my quick and unexpected drop from romantic globetrotter with bank account and two bank cards to a castaway, a modern day Robinson Crusoe! (September 6) My bank at home had assured me my cards (with overlapping orange and red dots on it) would be working everywhere in the world … “Don’t worry, signora, and have good trip”.

First day in Pape’ete, I try to book myself a trip right through the island of Tahiti and my bank cards refuse all online action. Conclusion: you don’t book and pay, you don’t go!

Shock! Pack up and go home!

Was Robinson easily discouraged or did he try to overcome the challenges, to keep going on his lonesome path and make the best of it? I successfully withdraw cash with both cards and my spirits rise.

My host lady calls around and gets me on a wonderful tour through Tahiti, this collapsed volcano all overgrown with lush and wild vegetation. The bumpiness of the ride makes my cell phone and its touch screen go berserk.

But now … What’s the difference between me and Robinson? He had a chance! He could solve the problems with his ingenuity and even grow spiritually during his survival struggle.

And me? The next blow awaits me 2 days later at the ATM. One of the two bank cards carks and … “Sorry, unable to process transaction.” No cash!

Palpitations, cold sweat …

I try to call the bank (Poste Italiane), not possible. I enter in chat; the little figure disappears. I write E-mails that get lost in the huddle and muddle of the www. I try to call again and empty my European Sim waiting. The connections (Wi-Fi and air) are unstable, it’s raining tropically; Polynesians say, the net’s not working because of the wind.

I curse my bank and curse the red and orange dots on my bank cards.

Ok, I must become a homo economicus – no, I don’t gender when I have existential problems! This was supposed to be a budget trip anyway. You picked the right place, you’ll say! Aw, everybody can budget travel in Albania!

I take the boat to Huahine. Don’t pronounce it like the French do, without h because the first Polynesian will correct you.

Huahine: Can you see the pregnant woman lying on her back? Can you see who is responsable? A couple of young chaps who were training for some kind of fight sport explained it to me while they helped me push my non electrical museum-bike up a 30% gradient.

Booking accomodation ahead, whether you can or you can’t, is essential! I couldn’t.

The hostel on Huahine is far away and full and so is every other accommodation.

palpitations, cold sweat, dizziness

I curse my bank and curse the red and orange dots on my bank cards.

Soon enough half the island seems to be calling the other half to find a vacancy for me … in tropical countries it gets dark early. Help comes from the Yacht Club: in the “dortoir” next door, a room for next day. And tonight? A family that are dining at the restaurant decide to give me a mattress and a sheet in the garret with a breakneck staircase for something like 40 €. Deal! Not to talk bad about who saved me. But … never seen a home like this. They told me the water was drinking water but the next landlady said it wasn’t. I’m fine.

Budget is: you don’t go on an organized tour, you do your own thing, alone like Robinson Crusoe, all over the island, by bicycle. I see all the things that are free of charge: archaeological sites, pearl farm, sacred blue-eyed eels: you don’t see the eyes, you hardly see the eels; pareo painter, vanilla farm, the beach, the lagoon and all the wonderful plants with fruits and flowers or just green leaves.

Archeological sites: bone finds hint at human sacrifice – you might find a plastic bottle today, but the site is really not littered, not like some places in good old Europe.

Pearl farm: in the middle of the lagoon, they take you there for free, even if you don’t buy. I would have bought … they had beautiful pearl and pottery combinations, beautiful pearls, too for my daughter-in-laws’ mothers, for my sister-in-law on whose glutenfree snacks I am still thriving avoiding to buy food. (Thank you belle-soeur!)

1. Pareo painter, a French lady married to a Polynesian, she explained to me how she paints the pareos all by hand and I explained to her why I couldn’t buy the pareos for my daughters-in-law, my lady friends, myself … they actually cost around 60€ a piece, but are cotton and handpainted;
2. Lady weaving a new roof for her hut

Vanilla is grown together with another plant – banana, exotic plant with exotic fruit, – to be shielded from the strong sunrays, it delicately gets impolinated by hand and takes 9 months to develop a delicious pod. The plant protecting the vanilla grows a roundish fruit with a cheesy smell and if you rub it all over yourself the mosquitoes won’t bite. Make your choice.

At the same time, I talk to all the banks because I need some cash, but they can’t give me any. They don’t even exchange my Euros. They don’t do that anymore. Sorry!

palpitations, cold sweat, dizziness, loss of appetite

Not only no appetite but I have to make a choice between eating and sleeping unter a roof.

Western Union and Moneygram are UNKNOWN in the whole of Polynesia.

I curse my bank and curse the red and orange dots on my bank cards.

I keep trying to contact the Italian consulate, calling, writing, …

Remembering my roots I try the Swiss – German – Austrian consulate, the consul won’t help, he suggests a hundred things that I have already tried. He thinks that Western Union is covered by a Tahiti bank. Nooooo! Maybe the Swiss never really need to worry about money?

I find out that my hotels in the Marquises Islands only want cash. Now that I had arranged to have them payed from Germany or Italy they want cash at arrival. At the ATM you can only get a certain amount.

A French couple offers to give me some money in exchange of a money transfer to their bank account in France and that just takes 10 minutes and I can go on breathing for a while. Merci merci merci vous m’avez sauvée!!! But for the other hotels it’s not enough.

I have desperately started looking for someone with infinite access to money here and a European Bank account. As the Italian Consul pointed out: transfering money to Polynesia takes a long time.

I am praying to the sacred blue-eyed eals. What else can I do?

Cheers Gerburg