Leaving Atuona, the road changed from smooth pavement to uneven dirt, winding through towering mountains and lush landscapes. We left the salty scent of the ocean behind for the earthy fragrance of the jungle as we climbed higher into the mountains. Each bend in the road introduced a new view of jagged cliffs plunging into the deep blue Pacific, wild horses and cows grazing in the fields and meandering into the road (often halting our journey), and goats effortlessly scaling near-vertical rock faces.
During the rainy season, the journey is full of waterfalls cascading over moss-covered rocks, adding a hint of adventure and danger to the trip as they often wash large rocks and even boulders onto the roads. Occasionally, a village appeared, offering a glimpse of life where Polynesian homes coexist harmoniously with their surroundings.
At the highest point before the descent to Puamau, we saw a boulder precariously jutting out from the cliffside, offering nothing but open air and crashing waves below. So, obviously, I had to climb it—keep in mind, heights are one of my two real fears. Not knowing if I was being brave or dumb (most likely both), I climbed to the top. Standing atop the rock with shaking knees and winds suddenly gusting to over 20 knots, a faint lightheadedness came with the realization that I was one wrong step from a plunge I couldn’t come back from. But then, I was rewarded with a view that seemed to stretch forever, revealing distant islands needing further exploration in the crisp, clear air.
The image burned into my memory. I quickly and carefully climbed down.
Continuing our road trip, we approached Puamau, with the road twisting and turning, hugging the steep cliffs as though we were racing through a Bond movie scene…
