terra incognita

There is a very 19th century feeling to live on an isolated island. Especially for an European that is used to be close to everything. In a world where we are so connected all the time, everything seems at the reach of your hand.

Here everything goes slow motion. Or let’s say at its own rhythm. It somehow feels like having taken a space wormhole. You are just suspended out of time flow. You disappear at the sight of everyone: nobody really knows where you are, nobody has an idea what this place is like, nobody knows how you even ended up there.

I met many persons that came here to hide, to hide from problems, to hide from people, to hide from pain, to hide from responsibilities. And I understand. The problems of the rest of the world seem quite insignificant here. And they left everything behind to come here.

It makes me think in a way to these people that were leaving Europe for America and other Terra Incognita more than a century ago, travelling for months in search of hope and future. 

 

 And most of these things have not changed since 19th century.

People still live at the rhythm of the forthcoming boats, delivering goods, news from far away and eager newcomers.

People living here for a certain time seem immune to distance and longing, smiling enigmatically when you evoke things that have never existed in this place or that remember them of revolved times.  
Soon in “See you soon” might take a while or even mean never when said before leaving to come here.
 

 

(Noumea in 1858, source : unknown)

V.