Oh my gosh, you guys! [Breathless, panting.]
We have done it. We’ve gone and booked our honeymoon after so much research and deliberation.
We’re going to French Polynesia. This decision comes after looking at pictures of overwater bungalows in places like Bora Bora, then looking at lots of pictures of other places all over the world, and then coming back to those first lagoon photos because there is perhaps nowhere more beautiful in the world.
When we were out on the beach for our engagement shoot (due respect and love to L.A., by the way, but a 65-degree spring day on a Santa Monica beach hardly feels tropical nor particularly serene), our photographer told us that Bora Bora was so gorgeous that it would ruin us. We’d never see another beach that measured up. I decided: I’m OK with that. Give me the overwater bungalow in Bora even if it means I turn into a pillar of salt afterward, and can never feast eyes on another beach with the same kind of enthusiasm. I will sell my soul to the devil. Gimme.
And so it is!
We leave from LAX (at which point I will be plotzing from excitement in the Tom Bradley terminal) three days following our wedding in August. We fly Air Tahiti Nui direct (where would we stop out there in the Pacific?) to Tahiti, which is a bit more than eight hours.
Although it seems totally contrary to everything “Tahiti” conjures, we’re told that island does not offer much to explore beyond one day’s worth of time. So we’ll spend one night in the capital city of Papeete, and the following day exploring the market and maybe the Gauguin museum from our post at theIntercontinental:
From there we will fly via Air Tahiti in a very small plane (terrifying, but thrilling) for the 10-minute (!) trip to Moorea. We’ll stay four nights in an overwater bungalow (can I say that 10 more times? It just makes me happy) at theHilton Moorea Lagoon Resort & Spa:
For the last and longest leg, we’ll fly about an hour from Moorea to Bora Bora for five nights in an overwater villa at the Hilton Bora Bora Nui:
What happens after that is that we fly back to Tahiti for our international flight home, but let’s not dwell on that, shall we not? I’m busily dreaming about the sand prints from the flip-flops emblazoned “just married” on the soles, and plotting all the island-appropriate colorful wrap dresses I will buy at the DVFoutlet in preparation before we leave, and I don’t want to kill my own buzz.
With gratitude to the hotels who allowed me to borrow their photos from the Internets. I look forward to snapping a few of my own…