Bora Bora
Bora Bora, surrounded by a lagoon and a fringing reef, has as a centerpiece the remnants of an extinct volcano and is, by all accounts, a veritable paradise. A mere 4,500 people call this small French Polynesian island home and even its name bears witness to its perfection: in the Tahitian language it might be better rendered as Pora Pora, meaning “First Born”. Favored.
From my snow covered, sub-zero environment, I might well say the weather and warmth alone render this a paradise – that sort of blue water requires an equatorial proximity – but I think what appeals to me more is the notion that this island is too small to be developed, no industry can survive here, land is so scarce that we are unlikely to see a strip mall rise in the suburbs.
When the American military was done using Bora Bora for an airstrip, which it did during World War II, they had to forcibly remove some of their personnel upon demand from their families. Some people, it seemed, simply did not want to leave. An emotion I can really understand as icicles form on the eaves outside my office window.
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