My grandma gave me this luggage label from one of her stays in Bora Bora 40 years ago. My grandparents loved Bora Bora, an island in French Polynesia.
As for Bora Bora, the closest I ever got was Tahiti 22 years ago. It was my first flight across the Pacific (well, part of it) on my own. Not too shabby for an 18 year old. I spent three weeks in Papeete and Moorea as part of a French immersion program arranged by my high school French teacher and her niece in Tahiti.
By the time I flew back to Chicago, I could understand 80% of French conversations. And then the following year I dropped French after 8 years and picked up Mandarin.
C’est la vie.