Papeete, Tahiti
When I am lucky enough to find myself back in magical Papeete, I usually catch an early morning ferry to Moʻorea from the Papeete Ferry Terminal. I plant myself up top, in the open air, where the views are unmatched. The jagged peaks of Moʻorea rise out of the Pacific like something only the creator of the universe could dream up for us. Once ashore, I wave down a local taxi and make my way to the Sofitel resort. It’s a prime spot, perched right on the beach with a dazzling lagoon that looks photoshopped but isn’t.
After a day soaking up the beauty of Moʻorea, it’s time to get the last ferry back to Papeete. As the sun dips, the ferry pulls into port, and the scene at Les Roulottes begins to unfold. The food trucks roll in and families start to gather. Elders unpack their ukuleles. Kids dart between tables playing and laughing together. The aroma from the food trucks begin to fill the air. It’s not staged-it’s just life, Polynesian style, and it’s perfect.
Now itʻs time for the best part of the day. Itʻs the Poisson Cru. By far my favorite dish in the entire world. Raw fish marinated in lime juice, mingling with the creaminess of fresh coconut milk. Add a crunch of cucumber and tomato and itʻs chef’s kiss baby. Every island in French Polynesia has it’s own twist on this national dish, but the essence is always the same: a dish that’s simple, honest, and reflective of the ocean it comes from. I swear to you-flying halfway around the world to sit at a plastic table in the warm Tahitian night with a plate of Poisson Cru is worth the price of the airfare.
food trucks at Les Roulottes with the cruise ship docked in the background
Why might it surprise a visitor?
The thing that strikes first-time visitors to Papeete is its beauty. It’s not something you can prepare for. You think you know what to expect, but how could you? Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think there was such a place on earth. At least, that’s how it was for me.
Any negative aspects?
Tahiti, like so many jewels scattered across the Pacific, is tethered to a faraway throne—a distant nation that governs it from across oceans. It’s a complicated relationship, a blend of colonial legacy and modern-day dependence. The result? A kind of beautiful isolation, but also limitations.
How friendly are the locals?
I don’t know a kinder heart than that of a Polynesian. It’s not surface-level politeness; it’s bone-deep generosity, the kind that makes you stop and reevaluate what it means to be truly hospitable. If you needed the shirt off their back, they’d hand it over with a smile—and maybe offer you lunch, too.
on a catamaran in beautiful Mo’orea