Desperate for a sunny fix before returning to the UK, I hatch a plan. A couple of hour’s research has me booked on a flight out of Auckland, bizarrely arriving the day before I take off ! I’m crossing the date line and heading for the South Sea island of Rarotonga* in the beautiful Cook Islands. Whoop, whoop !
We land just before midnight. In the tiny terminal building a man with flowers in his hat is playing a keyboard and singing while we shuffle through immigration. Am I in Hawaii ?? With a clear pass and in possession of my luggage, a lady with flowers in her hair grins widely and places a lei of fresh camellias around my neck. The scent is heady, tropical and gorgeous. Jo Malone eat your heart out ! It’s raining very warm cats and dogs outside, but I’m too tired to care.
On arrival at my accommodation, I fall asleep to the roar of the ocean. Can’t be far away, then.
Next morning dawns damp and grey to the sound of cockerels. The island has many cockerels and they are noisy devils. No alarm clocks required.
I may be in the room furthest from the sea, but as there are only 12, I can see it, all of 60ft away. More correctly, I’m looking at a lagoon protected by the coral reef that rings the island. The waves crashing on the reef was my lullaby last night. Keeping it simple, the owners see no point in having a pool when you have a lagoon full of tropical fish and a sandy beach as your playground. I don’t disagree.
Breakfast of local fresh fruit and homemade cake is served from the shack that doubles as a bar by night, right on the beach. We’re surrounded by palm trees, coconuts, tropical flowers and of course, a hammock. The air is fragrant and soothing. Our hosts suggest a selection of activities on the island. Saturday is market day, so I jump on the ‘clockwise bus’ (it’s a small island) on the perimeter road into the main town, Avarua.
The market has a bit of everything and plenty of things for the tourist: black pearls, pareos, shell jewellery, exotic freshly made smoothies, straw hats with floral decoration, flower garlands, t-shirts etc. etc. It’s a bustling operation, full of smiling faces and flowers. The rain seems to make no difference and I’m impressed with the singing and drumming on a stage at the end of the market. This is a living advert for a cultural review by local Polynesian Maoris. Good job too: I’ve just booked to go to one of their evening shows. Promises to be superb.
By midday the stallholders are packing up their wares into cars or onto the back of bikes. 4×4 pickups and mopeds are popular on the island and it’s delightful to watch women in their brightly patterned pareos, with floral crowns wending their way home on their mopeds. It would appear helmets are law, but is only ever observed by tourists with rental bikes !
Hungry, a stunning lunch recommendation delivers a perfect fresh tuna salad. Only now do I discover the anticlockwise bus stops at 12. High on enjoyment, I fail to compute if I jump on a clockwise one, I’ll be back within the hour. Instead I convince myself the only option is to walk. The rain has all but stopped and there’s a lovely island waiting to be explored. Perfect !
I set off to absorb the sights, smells and sounds of this tropical paradise, oblivious to my erroneous decision. It’s a fascinating walk. Lots of ordinary, colourful Caribbean style houses, churches, stray dogs, chickens, goats, coconuts and flowers. The central mountains, largely inaccessible, are green and thick with jungly forest.
After walking about 5km in 30°+, I need a break. A group of people spill out of a building ahead, clearly happy, glasses in hand. Ah! Impeccable skills. I’ve located the new Rarotonga brewery, a stylish and simple operation producing the most refreshing lager I’ve ever tasted. I savour my pint next to a truck piled high with coconuts, overlooking the beach. Exhaling, I am feeling less weary all of a sudden. This is the way to rehydrate!
Back on my feet it’s still a long slog to the studio, but when I get there a dip in the lagoon confirms the owner’s boast of the best snorkelling on the island. It’s teeming with multicoloured life and all feet from the bar ! Heaven !!
Saturday night is BBQ on the beach night. I enter the spirit of the occasion and start with a cocktail; the first of many ! We feast on all manner of homemade goodies and local fish: marlin, mahi mahi, yellowfin tuna (or as I misheard to hilarious effect, ‘Elephant Tuna’!). All serenaded with live music and a sunset. Shattered, I retire at 9pm and manage a delicious 10 hours sleep. Go me !