Let's Go To Rangiroa

I knew that I've traveled way too far and way too long when, two years ago on a long, South Pacific cruise, I went back to Rangiroa – one of the truly most remote places on Earth – and actually knew people. I saw a guy who looked familiar at a scooter-rental place at Tiputa Pass, where a dozen years ago I had one of the most thrilling dives of my life, and realized that he was my old dive leader, Jean-Jacques. Then I chatted up a guy at the Raie Manta dive shop, asked about a hairdresser I had met years before named Valerie, and he said, "I married her and we have two kids now."

Well, life goes on in Rangiroa, too. When people ask me about the most remote places I've ever been, or ask where on Earth I'd like to re-visit, it's usually at the top of both lists. About an hour's flight from Papeete, Tahiti on a bumpy, little, twin-engine plane, Rangiroa is a France-influenced atoll with a narrow little strip of land, less than 100 yards across in many places, encircling a vast, 45-mile-wide lagoon, the largest in the world. There is one little town, one good beachside hotel (the Kia Ora Village and lots of quiet, sandy beaches, handsome Polynesian people and pale, perfect blue water.

One of the great travel experiences is to rent a scooter from Jean-Jacques and ride on the one road into the village to buy a baguette and some wine. If you're lucky, dolphins will be jumping and playing in the churning waters of the pass. The other great travel experience is to dive into the shark-infested waters outside of the reef (and we're talking hundreds of sharks swimming by) and then drift through Tiputa Pass on a flood tide into the lagoon, which is filled with bright tropical fish.

Tell them I said hi if you get there. It's nice to have friends in far places.