Follow the sun

The evocative paintings of Gauguin immortalised the landscapes of Tahiti, that gem of a French territory set in the South Pacific. Next May will mark the 100th anniversary of the death of Eugene Henri Paul Gauguin at the age of 54.

His search for a primitive idyll away from the money-grabbing materialism of Europe, where he had been a prosperous stockbroker, ended with him broke, deserted by his beloved females, suffering heart trouble and crippled with syphilis.

He had sacrificed his life for a utopia he never really found.

Each Saturday, the M.S. Paul Gauguin sails from the main quay in Tahiti's capital of Papeete. Many of those on board are here because they want to follow in the brushstrokes of the master painter who was so bewitched by the beauty (and particularly the beauties) of the islands. He first came here in 1891.

A jungle of fairy lights hangs in the quayside gardens below the eight-deck liner as the last of the smart Louis Vuitton ocean trunks are heaved aboard to the 19 suites and 141 cabins by a gang of the 200-strong crew.

From the shore the Paul Gauguin looks as bright as a beacon against the black night sky backcloth. Anchors are aweigh just before midnight.

These days, Papeete is a busy, vibrant city: there is now a gendarmerie on the waterfront, but some things do not change. At night, the prostitutes come out into the market area. And this is where, more than a century ago Gauguin picked up his first teenage prostitute, an Anglo-Tahitian girl called Titi.

Gauguin would certainly have approved of the hip-swaying dance troupe of eight aboard, Tahitian beauties who teach blue-rinse matrons to make shell necklaces by day and hula-hula dance at night.

A piece of his woodcarving displayed outside the ship's main dining room was probably more valuable than anything to be found in the Paul Gauguin Museum ashore, which has none of his works.

The ship takes its guests on a circular tour of four islands - Tahaa, Bora Bora, Moorea and Papeete. The island of Tahaa is uninhabited and private and usually slumbers serenely in the eye-bruising morning light - until we arrived.

Three hundred of us paraded ashore down the pontoon: songs of the ukulele-playing folk singers dressed in sarongs filled the air, while ship stewards plied floating bars in the shallows, pressing passengers with rum drinks in coconut shells.

Next day, one felt a similar twinge of guilt as the sun rose on yet another perfect day in paradise.

A top hat of white clouds crowned the volcanic peaks of Bora Bora, while the lime green sea lapped the palm trees shading the lagoon.

A group of playful dolphins escorted the liner into the only entrance to the vast lagoon through Te Ava Nui Pass below Mount Otemanu.

It is truly a heavenly spot which that great traveller James Michener christened 'the most beautiful island in the world'.

When Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote South Pacific, based on Michener's Tales Of The South Pacific, their fictional Bali Hai was inspired by Bora Bora.

And even though we were cocooned in 21stcentury comfort, the sheer physical beauty of the islands was overpowering - a reminder of just what it was that brought Gauguin here.