After a 27 hour long day following a red-eye flight, we spent our first night in Papeete, the non-romantic capital of Tahiti. (Side note: If you are planning a trip to French Polynesia, don’t stay in Tahiti longer than a day without a real good reason.)

When you first land somewhere with a romantic reputation, like Tahiti, you look for romance everywhere—at least I do. And not surprisingly, romance in Tahiti is easy to find.

For example, some woman at our hostel (with a beautiful voice) had left her career in the UK, and come to Tahiti from the UK to learn the art of Polynesian dance. She had been there about a month, and was in the middle of some dramatic love affair. As Dan and I ate our first 9:30am lunch of tuna sashimi and a spinach salad (the salad cost much more than the tuna, as it was imported from California) I overheard her talking on the phone to a friend about how the night before things had taken a terrible turn with her old lover from London who happened to be in Tahiti, and how she might just stay another month.

It’s hard to hear someone sad and lonely in such a beautiful place. But in another sense, sometimes things like that make me jealous—what a life-changing experience she must be having. What a crazy risk she was taking with her life, living by herself out in Tahiti. Following her completely impractical Tahitian dance dreams, and leaving her job behind. I started imaging her reminiscing over tea in London 50 years down the road on a cold winter’s day . . . and the memories she’s making now will no doubt stick with her through life. It made me wish I was embarking on something new, that I had some impulsive dream to chase.

But this is one cool thing about just being in Tahiti—these are the kind of thoughts you have. You just have to hope the desire and motivation sticks with you when you get home.