When we were planning our trip over a year ago, I told Nick that I wanted two things: 1) huts on stilts and 2) fresh fruit. I got my wish:
We had plenty of fruit, but what I hadn't been expecting was the juice. I loved fruit juice when I was little, but I rarely drink it anymore due to all the added sugar. Fortunately in places where fruit is just about the only thing you don't have to import, the juice flows freely and is unadulterated.
The first island we visited was Moorea, known for its many pineapple plantations and other fruit production. (Two fun facts about pineapples: 1) they must be planted on a slope so rain water doesn't sit and waterlog the plants, and 2) they're ripe when yellow, despite what most U.S. grocery stores seem to think.)
I raided the juice bar every morning at breakfast (my favorites were mango and papaya-passion fruit):
We visited a tropical garden where they pureed a whole pineapple before our eyes:
(the photographer, on break)
Our tour guide opened a fresh coconut from the side of the road (we drank the coconut water out before digging into the meat):
When we arrived in Bora Bora, our hotel welcomed us with fresh grapefruit juice (the grapefruit there is a pale green):
The hotel lunch restaurant started each meal with two little shooters of pineapple juice (along with refreshing little towels soaked in cold Tahitian vanilla water -- the first day I saw a black fleck on the towel, and when I held it closer to inspect it, the sweet smell told me exactly what it was):
On a tour of a tiny island one day we didn't have juice with us, but we made do with Orangina:
By the end of our trip, I was obsessed. I felt like Buster from Arrested Development:
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