The idea was to send this writer of urban thrillers away somewhere quiet and distant. Even when I’ve written about places before (Havana, Tangier), I’ve not really got out of the built-up areas. The South Pacific was mentioned and I had a fleeting image of a fortnight of idle luxury. But I wasn’t headed for the five-star treatment on Tahiti or Bora Bora. Instead I went to the Austral Islands, southernmost archipelago of French Polynesia.

To call them “unspoiled” would be misleading. A combination of French colonialism and English missionary zeal has transformed Polynesian culture into a perplexing synthesis of Western and native values. But the Australs remain largely unaffected by tourism. There are no hotels on the islands, just a handful of family-run pensions.

“Popaa” (Polynesian for outsiders) are always made to feel welcome – and welcoming is an art form here, with presentations of floral garlands or shell necklaces the moment you arrive. But once on the islands, there’s a relaxed and friendly indifference to the popaa as the locals get on with their own lives.

The pace here is hard to fathom. There’s a sense of calm
occupation. There’s a rudimentary agriculture, growing a starchy, purplish root vegetable of Zen-like blandness which supplies the staple carbohydrate, and most islanders don’t bother with refrigerators, since the sea provides fresh fish every day. The church plays a large part in people’s lives, as the primary from of social organisation as much as religious worship. There’s a strange combination of idyllic island life and a dull Protestant work ethic.

Anybody expecting to go out and have a good time in the evening down here would be sorely disappointed. The locals go to bed when it gets dark and get up at sunrise. And it’s very easy to fall into the rhythm. The islands are so stunningly beautiful, the days so bright and peaceful, there’s hardly a need to go out and get drunk in the darkness. I’ve rarely slept so well or woken so happily at dawn.

I visited the three main islands of the archipelago: Rurutu, Tubuai and Raivavae. Rurutu is probably best known to the popaa for whale-watching. Between July and October humpbacks come here to mate. The Raie Manta Club organises boat trips from the main harbour to view them at close range. l went out with them one afternoon and got lucky. We followed a threesome – a female pursued by two energetic suitors. The lads were really showing off to her, leaping out of the water, their huge bodies propelled with a combination of grace and lustful clumsiness. Perhaps they were showing off to us as well.

There are plenty of other things to see on Rurutu. It’s riddled with limestone grottoes; you can cycle around its coastal road and find beautiful white sand beaches that are completely empty. The islanders don’t share the tourist’s desire to lie on the sand and stare at the sea and given that there are only a handful of tourists on the island at any one time, it is easy to find your own private beach.

Tubuai is the most developed of the Austral Islands. It even has a supermarket. It’s the administrative centre of the group and it has more cash-crop agriculture, mostly potatoes. There are motus (small sandy islands) around the reef that can be visited by boat. The best is Motu Tapapa Tavae, with a shallow cove aptly named the Bay of Tranquillity.

But you don’t even have to go that far: Tubuai is the only island in French Polynesia with a beach all around its coast. Bloody Bay is the best place for swimming, named after the battle when the Tubuaians fought with the mutineers of HMS Bounty as they tried to land on the island. The natives did allow the crew to stay for a while but finally threw them off because of their disrespectful treatment of local women.

It was Sunday and I decided to go to church to hear the himene tuhaa pae, the choral music of the islands. Despite the missionary fervour of the Christians (himene is Polynesian for hymn) the singing owes much more to an older tradition and there’s a strange syncretism of praise for the Redeemer and incantations to more ancient gods. The sound is hauntingly melodic and ethereal and it’s hard not to be moved by the polyphony of voices that rises up from the congregation.

Raivavae is said to be the most beautiful island in the South Pacific. Its dark-green mountains seem to hover as they rise up out of a deep blue lagoon. Its reef is clustered with motus. There’s even one tiny motu with a single palm tree sticking out, like the proverbial cartoon desert island. It struck me that it is the motu rather than the island that really conforms to our vision of isolated paradise. And here you can indulge that fantasy, take a tent and camp out with some provisions and arrange for a boat to pick you up the next day.

Tourism is slowly developing on the Austral Islands but it seems likely that they will remain a relatively quiet destination. They have a discreet and simple charm that would elude those looking for a more luxurious holiday. Though the environment is spectacular the life here is sedentary. It’s a rugged and practical version of paradise.

NEED TO KNOW

Transpacific Holidays (www.transpacificholidays.co.uk) offers ten-night holidays to Tahiti and her islands from £1,599 per person, based on two sharing. Air New Zealand (www.airnewzealand.co.uk) flies from Heathrow to Tahiti via LA three times a week from £610 plus taxes

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