Tapana Island the best

It is true that throughout these two years that we have been wandering a bit from here to there I have met characters worthy of being told, loved or avoided. Those who I present here, dear friends, for those who do not know, are an example of dedication to ideals, dignity and dreams realized. They are the Tapana

An aspect of how the island on which our friends live and the facilities they built to create their own life

Tapana is a small island of the Vava’u group, north of Tonga. It is a small island near Neiafu, the capital of the Vava’u, which was uninhabited until Maria and Eduardo arrived, the Tapana thereafter.
Eduardo and María left their lives in Spain about twenty-five years ago, they no longer remember, with a speed of thirty-six feet, enormous for the time, little or no experience, and many desire to start a new life, moving away from a Anodyne existence and a country that did not fill them. She from Valencia, he from San Sebastian, began their journey with little or no money, to the west, accompanied throughout their journey by Pepe, brother of Eduardo and his son Papu, ten years, who made up the flotilla with the “Seven Of March, “its twenty-four feet.
The avatars and experiences that accumulated during their navigations would be enough to fill many pages of a book full of passions and illusion. Among their many occupations were the transport of pigs on their sailboat in the Caribbean, from copra in the Pacific, they bought an island in French Polynesia, and what do I know how many more things will have filled an intense life lived with joyful humility.
Until they arrived in Tonga, which if today is very distant, I imagine that twenty-five years ago it would be like arriving at the moon, and where a culture alien to our understanding extended a hand. There they settled down, they made the small island of Tapana and set up a small restaurant where the few tourists who arrived paid happy the paella (by the way, exquisite) that they cooked and the spectacle of Spanish folklore that offered like complement.
And the restaurant was called “La paella”, and it is as it is still known today, where they do not cook and offer a Spanish food nor touch and dance flamenco, but they give fragments of love to life watered with frames of Spain. It became by the ineffable word of mouth in a place of pilgrimage for all those wandering Spaniards reach those latitudes that are gifted by the affection and good vital rhythm of Maria and Eduardo, and for all cheerful tourist that falls in its waters.

The table ready for the party, which we gave good account
And the star of the night, who after some pantagruelic entrees knew blessed glory

Here we have the basic training on stage; Guitar, percussion and accompaniment, a real spectacle that nothing has to envy anyone. Maria’s dance was missing in her lightsuit, but we apologized and the dance that we put.

Well, some of us acted as solo performers joining the sarao. They were very welcome

My namesake Eduardo, multi-instrumental man. Play and sing like god

Pepe, Eduardo’s brother, currently lives in New Zealand, while Papu grew up diving among the reefs and has managed to sculpt an admirable life wherever he looks. He was welcomed by a Tongan family who adopted him and raised him. Today he holds a Ph.D. in Hispanic philology from the University of Auckland, where he has been a full professor until he decided to return to his reefs and take care that his five children grow up with the same values ​​he knew. He has not returned to Spain since he was a kid. To his uncles I have been fortunate to see them again on a recent visit to Spain. I am grateful that you have enjoyed both your company and your way of understanding life, another of the advantages that travels.

Papu, who despite never having returned to his homeland, seems not to have left, judging by his appearance. An individual.

The “Seven of March” anchored in the port of Naiafu. Twenty feet. With this they crossed half the world; Without motor, without lights, with letters traced, with a kitchen of kerosene and with much daring, a father and a son undertook an anonymous adventure. And then I look at Nirvana, I drop the rings and I blush with embarrassment.

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