It rained a lot during the night, and in the mornign the cocks started crowing at an ungodly hour and didn't stop.

Easter Island is culture shock all over again. It is at the same time exactly as I imagined it and very different. You have all the modern entrapments: cars, internet... and people speak Spanish but they are very different from the Chileans, their face, their skin, their whole culture is altogether different.

I like it here though, it's a strange feeling to be on such a small island in the middle of the Pacific, thousands of miles from anywhere. Where else in the world can you walk straight from the airport into the city centre?

Keiron and I got some food from the minimarket and started walking towards the airport. We walked passed the ocean, where waves were breaking into the volcanic rocks, splashing up photogenically. There was a big cave hollowed out in which the water poured. A bit further up were a few left overs from a ceremonial site. We started walking up the slope towards the crater of Rano Kau, passing lush vegetation, such as banana trees and palms. The view towards the island were great. The volcano is now extinct and the crater has been eaten away by the sea at one side. It is filled with break, slightly iffy water and the sides are mossy. At the viewpoint was a stone with petroglyphs (figures carved out in the stone).

We walked to the end of the island, where the ceremonial village of Orongo is located. We paid our entrance fee to a very jolly ranger and walked through the creaky turnstile. We saw the old houses, made of thin slabs of volcanic rock piled onto each other. The roofs were originally held together with totora reed and covered with a pasty substance. The grass would grow over it, so they look like landscaped hills.

Down below are the little islets of Motu Kao Kao, Motu Nui and Motu Iti, the sites of the birdman cult and competition. Every year, the islanders would choose the fittest and strongest men, often working for a master, and they would swim to the island to get the first egg of the the manutara, a migratory bird which comes to nest on the motu. The man to get the egg (or his master) would become 'tangata manu' or birdman for a year, spending his time in holy seclusion.

Near the end of the village are more petroglyphs, clearly portraying the birdman, the body of a man with the head of a bird. Below are the rooms where the contestants would sit and wait for the 'winner' to be announced.

We walked back into the centre and had a well deserved Diet Coke after the sweaty walk. We were joined by Sonia and Isabel for a bit. Back at the residencial we had a shower. The senora has defrosted somewhat, she's put up a better curtain to make the room dark and started talking to me about the festival.

In the evening, we met Sonia and Isabel to have dinner at restaurant Aluha. Us three girls shared a bottle of nice Chilean wine and Keiron had a beer, Escudo. I had a great meal: two skewers with big pieces of grilled tuna, scampi and stir fried veggies. At about ten, we went to the Tapati festival, after being held up by another five minute downpour. Sonia bought a moai statue and we were joined by a couple of very annoying Australians.

When Keiron and I called it a day, we were unpleasantly surprised by the fact that the door we needed to get through to get to our room was locked and everybody was at the festival, as the son of the duena was strutting his bodypainted stuff on stage. Luckily, another couple came back at about 2 in the morning so we could get in.