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Rarotonga – Bloody Mary

Thursday, November 9th, 2006

Back to Rarotonga, and to be honest, I wasn’t really in the mood for jollity and happiness.  I was still considering returning to New Zealand earlier than planned.

I was back at Varas, which had seemed to have had an influx of 18-30s new South Pacific venture.  Talk about making me feel old!  I felt like an outside observer, not really participating in, nor interested in, the antics of the younger guests who just seemed to be interested in partying.  Nice enough people, but just not a huge amount in common with them.  This was highlighted the first night back in the dorms there where the 18 year olds tripped back in at 2am, came into the dorm where I was sleeping, and put the light on.  This would have been bad enough, had I not raised my head off the pillow, and the culprit simpered to me, “oh, sorry, have I woken you up?”  “Yes”, I growled, at which point she just said, “oh, I am sorry” again, and sat down on her bed to write her diary.

There were some sane people staying there, fortunately, amongst whom were Malika, from Denmark, and Stefan, from Germany.  We three went on a night out to the cinema, the only cinema in the Cook Islands.  It shows one film every night, and is a rather wonderful lilac colour.  When we went, they were showing “Take The Lead”, which turned out to be a hybrid of Sister Act, Dangerous Minds, and Strictly Come Dancing.  Yes, it was wonderful!  Some of the best moments of the night were when they held the film until us three were sitting down (there were only about 10 other people in there), and when the film suddenly went off in the middle and we realised it was an intermission.  An intermission!  I haven’t seen one of those since God was a boy.  Wonderful.  Also, during the second half, the projector got knocked, and so we were suddenly watching loads of bums and tums having conversations.  I think that’s where we lost the plot, and giggled all the way through the rest of the movie.

Another real highlight during my time in Rarotonga was going to the church service along the road.  Missionaries got to the Cooks about 170 years ago, and they have taken to Christianity with real zeal.  They have their own church, the Cook Islands Christian Church, and a group of us went along on Sundays.  It was wonderful!  Probably the most welcoming service I’ve ever been to – special prayers were said for us visitors, and the welcome extended to giving us lunch afterwards.

I was lucky enough to be there on a national holiday, Gospel Day, which celebrates the arrival of the Gospel in the Cook Islands, and all the local churches get together and put on dramatic presentations based on Christianity and the history of the Cooks.  There was so much joy and enthusiasm put into their shows, it was impossible to watch without a smile on my face.  And the singing – the singing was something else.  A few times, we heard them sing one particular song, in the Maori language, which was in two parts, harmonised beautifully, and was just spine-tingling to hear.

On my last day there, I decided that it really was time I DID something on Rarotonga, so Malika and I booked a jeep tour round the island.  I was actually sorry I hadn’t done it earlier.  I’d got a pretty good idea of the geography of the island – it really isn’t big, and I’d done the complete circuit a couple of times on the bus – but this way, we got to see it from the hills in the middle, with gorgeous sweeping views right down to the sea.  We found out much more about the three main tribes of Rarotonga (all the Maoris who live there today are part of one of these tribes), each of which still has a king or queen running it.  One of them still has a palace in the town centre, which is lovely, although strangely not open to anyone. 

On the tour, there was an Australian woman who had me gritting my teeth literally within three minutes of being in her company.  Not only did she have a shrieking laugh, but she seemed to find EVERYTHING that ANYONE said completely hilarious.  Malika and I made a tactical move to sit in a different jeep to her, but it still didn’t work… we could hear her laugh lingering on the wind as we wound our way across Rarotonga. When we got to the waterfall, she decided to take a dive into it.  Fully dressed.  In knee length denim shorts.  She was still wet a few hours later.

And that was it, really for the Cook Islands.  Like I predicted, not the most exciting, action-packed blogs I have ever written, nor the most exciting, action-packed weeks I have ever spent.  But I got a really good tan!

 

Aitutaki – Stranger in Paradise

Thursday, November 9th, 2006

After a week on Rarotonga doing blissfully little, I was ready to turn the activity level even further down, if it was at all possible. I decided to head over to the smaller island of Aitutaki. Rarotonga is the most-visited island in the Cook group, and Aitutaki is the second – but this is very much a relative term. It’s much, much smaller and much, much quieter.

It’s a 40 minute plane ride south of Rarotonga, and even this amused me, now that I’m such an international traveller and all. First I had to put my bag on a set of kitchen scales to see if it was overweight – it wasn’t, thank goodness, as I only really took a few bikinis and some books – then there were no security questions, no security screening, nothing. I made myself laugh when I asked the check-in girl what time my 1.30pm flight would be boarding. She looked at me like I was insane, and answered, “Erm, about 1.25”.

As with elsewhere in the South Pacific, we were greeted, at Aitutaki International Airport (an open-air shed) by a singer. I tell you, it ALWAYS puts you in a good mood, and I for one would campaign hard to see, say Oasis, playing in Arrivals in Manchester Airport. Or maybe Macca in Liverpool John Lennon Airport (Above Us Only Sky), now that he’s fallen on hard times? Think of the lawyer’s bills, Paul, and turn up with your guitar.

Aitutaki

Within about 5 minutes of landing in Aitutaki, it was easy to see what the biggest problem would be. Mosquitoes. Relentless. Even smothered in 80% DEET, the little darlings were still feasting on me and, with an outbreak of Dengue Fever there, it didn’t exactly put my mind at rest. I spent a lot of time imagining I was coming down with a crippling headache. The rest of the time I spent counting my bites, putting antihistamine on them, and then for a double whammy, zapping them with my clicker thing that looks like it will give you an electric shock and/or waken Frankenstein’s monster. Hours of fun.

And, after that, I’m afraid, it really was a case of “and then I sunbathed and read and did nothing much else”. I hired a bike, which I used for my daily pootles around the island, to the shop and to various beaches. I read a book every day. I kept missing whales in the ocean, apparently, by about 5 minutes.

Oh, I did find a crab in the loo! To this day I still have no idea how it got there, but it highly amused me and a Dutch couple for a good while. Especially when we told the cleaner and she told us angrily, “Oh, just put the lid down and leave it alone”. Hmmm.

One day, I went on a Lagoon Cruise. It was stunningly beautiful. The water was turquoise, unlike anything else I have ever seen. Absolutely crystal clear; even at the deepest point, we could see all the way to the bottom of the ocean. I couldn’t bring myself to go snorkelling, but it was stunning to look at. We stopped at a number of tiny deserted islands, mounds of dazzlingly white sand marooned in the middle of the turquoise. It was just amazing.

Lagoon

I also got incredibly excited when we went past the two islands where the T4 series “Shipwrecked” is being filmed. Being Sunday morning hangover tv of the lowest mental denominator, I am obviously a huge fan. When it’s on tv, though, they make the islands look as if they’re in the middle of nowhere, rather than in a busy lagoon with tourist boats plowing their way past every few minutes, waving to the participants. It’s a beautiful spot, though, and I would be tempted to apply myself, were it not for the high eejit factor amongst the people who I’d have to share paradise with.

It was while I was on Aitutaki that I heard about Fr Xavier. Obviously this would have been devastating news to take in anywhere in the world, but I felt especially isolated. I had no phone, very little internet access (that, when it was working, was expensive and slow), and no way of contacting people who I wanted to be with and speak to and be comforted by. For a while – and this feeling continued after I returned to Rarotonga – I was considering cutting my time short in the Cook Islands. There were people in New Zealand I could run to and be with. The Cooks were a lonely place right then, and I think more than any other point in my travels it showed me that, as much as I’m very happy with my own company and indeed need my own company on occasion to recharge my batteries, there are times in life when to be with others is essential.

I decided not to go back (and in hindsight now, I’m glad I decided this), but the rest of my time in Aitutaki was subdued. That said, I’m glad I went, and I’m glad I have the photos. It is, without doubt, the most beautiful place I have ever seen in my life, amazingly so. I would definitely, definitely recommend a trip. Just make sure you pack the mozzie repellant.

Rarotonga – Some Enchanted Evening

Saturday, November 4th, 2006

"South Pacific" is one of my favourite movies.  Many a time at home after a bad day in work (something that I only vaguely remember the concept of right now), I would sit down, put SP in the DVD player, ... [Continue reading this entry]