Such memories are already fast fading. There were blowholes coming through the edge of the road, waterfalls full with recent rain throwing cooling spray my way, grotto with kids and their boom boxes, gardens full of tropical plants some previously seen and unseen, and miles and miles of changing coastline and mountainous hinterland. I saw the soaring peaks of Tahiti's highest mountain, and I saw the Diadem which is in the photograph at the top right of my blog under the email box. I learnt that most people go to church on Sunday, and the ladies compete with the largest and most outstanding hats - saw some through the open doors of churches as we passed by. Meanwhile the Tahitian equivalent of a Hungi is cooking a pig, bananas and taro etc beneath the ground, so it is ready after church for the big eating session. I learnt the Tahitian language is being taught in schools again as part of reclaiming what was lost during the time of the missionaries. The native language in the Marquisis is very different and not understandable hy Tahitians. I saw staring dogs, a comfortable cat, a red rumped bird, and metal shields on the coconut palms to stop the rats running up the trunks for a tasty meal of the young nuts. I was hypnotised by the endless sparkle on the sea, and alert to the living conditions of the locals. Reminded me of how Mission Beach and Port Douglas used to look before development. And finally we had lunch near Mataeia the second place where Gauguin lived, and passed through Punnaieaa the first place where he lived. I looked up at the internal mountainous view that he would have had, and I looked to sea and saw Tahiti Iti and the line of breakers over the line of coral reef that he would have seen. I am satisfied that I have 'walked' as closely as I could do, in Gauguins footsteps.