One suitcase, one hundred and eighteen islands

There's absolutely nothing wrong with that picture, but French Polynesia is spread across an area roughly the size of Europe. Staying on just one island would be a bit like flying all the way to Greece and never leaving Santorini. Beautiful? Absolutely. But you'd only be scratching the surface.

Paul Gauguin lets you see French Polynesia very differently. Rather than choosing one island and wondering what you've missed, you unpack once and spend the next ten nights waking up somewhere completely different. One morning you're surrounded by dramatic volcanic peaks, the next you're anchored off a tiny coral atoll where there are more fish than people. No airport queues, no ferry timetables and no repacking your suitcase every second day.

Paul Gauguin feels like it was designed by someone who actually understands French Polynesia. Rather than building the biggest ship possible, she was built to slip into the smaller ports and shallow lagoons that make this part of the world so special.

Carrying just over 300 guests, you won't find waterslides, surf simulators or a shopping mall onboard. Thankfully. When you've got Bora Bora drifting past your cabin window, a rock-climbing wall suddenly feels a bit unnecessary.

Barefoot luxury isn't about finding the perfect island. It's about realising there was never just one.

Ten nights in French Polynesia

Huahine is usually the first surprise. Made up of two lush islands joined by a bridge, it's a place of fertile valleys, emerald mountains and sheltered bays where life still revolves around fishing boats and family farms. Ancient marae sit quietly amongst the trees, vanilla plantations scent the air and tiny villages move at a pace that feels wonderfully disconnected. Don't be surprised if your biggest traffic delay comes courtesy of a rooster with no intention of moving.

Fakarava couldn't feel more different. Part of the Tuamotu Archipelago, this UNESCO Biosphere Reserve is little more than a ribbon of coral surrounding a lagoon so clear the boats almost look like they're floating in mid-air. Beneath the surface, reef sharks, turtles, rays and clouds of tropical fish glide through one of the healthiest coral ecosystems in the South Pacific.

Then, just as you've wrapped your head around one version of French Polynesia, the ship points back towards the volcanic peaks of the Society Islands and perhaps the most famous name of them all.

Bora Bora doesn't really need much of an introduction. It's the postcard, the desktop wallpaper and probably half the screensavers from the early 2000s. The surprising part isn't how beautiful it is. It's that it actually looks like that in real life.

Perhaps the greatest luxury here is having nowhere to be. Paul Gauguin spends two nights in Bora Bora, so you're never left feeling like you've barely scratched the surface before moving on. If you spend the morning snorkelling, there's no pressure to race off on an island tour before lunch. If you stumble across a beach you'd rather not leave, stay a little longer.

Before returning to Papeete, the itinerary calls into Moorea. Sharp volcanic peaks rise almost straight out of the lagoon, pineapple plantations blanket the hillsides and tiny roadside fruit stalls appear around every corner. It has a more local feel than Bora Bora, and it's just as rewarding to explore by scooter as it is from the water.

After a few days onboard, everything starts to feel surprisingly familiar. You find your favourite spot on deck, breakfast becomes less about the buffet and more about seeing which island is waiting outside, and before long the ship starts to feel remarkably small.

For Australians, the inclusions also make a lot of sense. Fine dining, premium drinks, gratuities and watersports from the marina are already covered, so once you're onboard you can stop doing mental arithmetic every time you order another cocktail. By the end of ten nights you'll probably have a new favourite island. The funny part is, it might not be Bora Bora.