The man from Del Monte, he say...... (30 Jan 2008)

…. that’s a hell of a big pineapple you’ve got there! After the prawn theme park in NZ, I now discover a pineapple one in Oz – this food theme theme park is becoming a habit! But one I couldn’t resist. After seeing the sign to the Big Pineapple, I needed to discover more. This is a small pineapple plantation that they have turned into an attraction – as well as the “nutmobile”, a little roadtrain with capsules shaped like nuts that takes you through the macadamia nut plantation, there is also a small train reminiscent of Thomas The Tank Engine that takes you around the plantation to learn all about growing pineapples. My education is now complete, but I just can’t get to grips with the economics – it takes 2 years for a pineapple to grow, and each plant only gives one pineapple in that time. After 2 pineapples have grown on it (4 years) it’s not much good and has to be replaced. So how come you can get ‘em in Tesco’s for 99p? But the train, even though it looks like a kiddie’s ride is actually a train that is used as transport on the plantations. And you get to go inside the big pineapple at the gate (all 18 metres of it) and learn even more – a strange experience! But I also saw joeys and koalas at close range which was a treat. I did resist buying the pineapple shaped ice bucket in the shop on the way out, however stylishly retro it seemed…. Before discovering this huge pineapple I had started the day in my trusty bluemobile driving north through a tropical rainstorm, up the Bruce Highway towards Noosa, and stopping at an old orignal country village, Eumundi, that has a famous twice weekly craft market. It was huge and full of stalls selling all kinds of weird and wonderful objects. I think a lot were manned by people who had in past lives travelled to India and Asia, and now flog their stuff to unsuspecting tourists like me (but I didn’t buy anything at least this time…). There were also local crafts, painted bottles, embroidered nighties are big, Indian caftans (I could sell them a few if I’d thought), 3 D pictures, caricaturists, palm readers and camel rides. But my favourite was meeting the Dyl’s Oz cousin – Scooby Doo (see pic). I can report that in Australia golden cocker spaniels are as into everything and find food wherever they can as they do at home in Clapham! And as it had been raining, he had of course been in every muddy puddle he could find and his coat was soaking and brown with the mud – now where have I met a dog like that? By lunchtime, I reach Noosa – a beautiful area of fabulous houses on the waterfronts of all the little inlets – all individual and different in design and seemingly with a boat moored at each one - like something from the Architectural Digest. The very small, perfectly formed and neat centre is full of trendy restaurants and bars and expensive clothes shops as well as the usual real estate agents with windows full of extremely expensive properties. But it’s a low key place – no big tower blocks, nothing seems higher than 2 storeys and when you hit the beach it is yet another sweep of golden sands and blues seas with white surf. I was thinking that if that puja to Laxmi does work and I win the lottery, perhaps this is the place for my Australian holiday home. But as I drove out, I saw clear evidence of recent bushfires with the barks of the gum trees scorched and black over quite a wide area, and suddenly changed my mind!

The Australian Dream and places beginning with "M" (29 Jan 2008)

Today, the hotel has suddenly become the Marie Celeste. When I arrived on Saturday it was heaving and there were cars and “utes” in every parking space. Today, it seems Australia has gone back to work after their long Australia Day weekend, and there is no one about. In the town, all the shops are now open, but there are far fewer holiday makers milling around and most people seem to be just going about their normal day to day business. The pool at the hotel, which over the weekend was full of shrieking children is now strangely deserted. I start with a simple breakfast of coffee and doorstops. To explain, in a very smart café in town, I order coffee and toast. The toast, like everything in Australia is larger than life – on this occasion it was 2 pieces of toast, each more than an inch thick of proper white bread - so much for healthy eating, but it was very good. I collected my hire car – a bluemobile this time – a small “Getz” , a peculiar name for a car, but it is small and perfectly formed and “getz” me to where I want to go…. It has the requisite aircon which is so needed here as the humidity and heat are really high – lovely! It was after lunch by the time I was ready to start driving about – sorting the car and then sorting some Malarone (the anti malarials I need for Cambodia) took longer than expected. I was heading for Mooloolah, a village in the hinterland, but took the wrong turn off the Bruce Highway and found myself heading unwittingly into the Australian Dream at Mooloolaba - well they both began with “M”.... As I drove along the Sunshine Motorway (how much nicer are these names than the M1 or the M25), I realised I was heading in completely the opposite direction from the one which I had intended. But so what, that’s the beauty of what I’m doing – you get waylaid by a wrong turn, but it doesn’t matter – you will still discover something new and interesting, and can try and get the right place tomorrow. So I carried on back towards the coast and arrived in Mooloolaba, a coastal town north of where I am staying. I thought I had arrived in a film set for the Australian Dream. The houses on the way in were perched at the edge of the inlets with boat moorings at the bottom of their green lawned gardens. The seafront was like a picture postcard – a wide, sweeping beach with blue sky and sea, golden sand and the white surf of the rolling waves, populated by young, bronzed people playing in the surf and skilfully surfing and body boarding in. The shops were all small boutiques, trendy restaurants and posh real estate agents flogging beautiful “absolute waterfront” properties and penthouses. It’s all so clean, wholesome and even the parking right on the front is free. There are bbq’s to use, showers all over the place to get the saltwater and sand off, and no graffiti anywhere. There’s even a very posh (free) loo right on the front called “a loo with a view”! Southend, Brighton and Blackpool you have a long way to go… it really was the Australian Dream here on the aptly named Sunshine Coast. But smart shops are all very well, but where do you buy your food? As I drove out I came upon my answer, a huge “edge of town” shopping centre with Woolworths, Coles, and lots of other shops all inside airconditioned comfort. I had to stop and check it out - why do such simple things like grocery stores in other countries seem so much more interesting than Tesco or Sainsbury’s? By this time the Sunshine Coast was looking to become the rain coast as large black clouds started to roll in, so I head back to Caloundra. Sitting on my balcony as dusk was about to settle there was the most amazing cacophony I have ever heard – so loud. I guess it was the dusk equivalent of the dawn chorus, but it felt more like something from the Alfred Hitchcock film, “The Birds” – either that or the end of the world was nigh, but if you are reading this, you will know it wasn’t…..

20 – 24 Jan 08 - Sun, sea, sand, sushi and sellulite (sic – just had to be done)

Punta Del Este has it all. It is Latin America’s answer to St Tropez and it attracts all sorts - apparently Clooney and Estefan have houses here. It is situated in South eastern Uruguay where the River Plate meets the sea.

It was a lovely way to end the trip as I spent three days lying by the pool or at the beach, in typical Punta style – i.e. late starts, lots of posing ( them not me ), late restaurants, they don’t get busy until 23.30 ish (adults, kids and grandparents all eating together) and the shops close at 2am. Suspect the club scene starts at about that time – but I am well past that. I am also well past thongs which seem to be the order of the day accompanied by huge beach jewellery and dark tans – regardless of gender, age or size. There are clearly no mirrors in this town, either that or no taste. There is however, loads of money – it is very expensive here and the harbour is full of yachts, there is a Tiffany store, Rolex, and even a Victoria’s Crown boutique dedicated to Posh’s clothes label!! You get the idea.

The beach is lovely, but crowded in a Spanish Costa sort of way, except here it is so noisy, with everyone chatting, milling around, huge extended family groups all buying from the bewildering parade of hawkers – selling helados, cerverza, agua, sunglasses, pareos, toys, footballs, bags, sweetcorn, mate, café, bocadillos, bikinis, jewellery, beach dresses, etc etc etc. It made for great people watching and the general buzz and movement reminded me of the squawky chinstrap penguin colonies.
Must say that I am so fed up of steak and Malbec that I have resorted to sushi and sauvignon blanc – feels like home already. Don’t want to go home after such an amazing trip. Kev was there too. This is my last blog of this trip – so Gill back over to you……

12 – 20 Jan 08 - Trekking in Torres Del Paine (Chile)

I have never done any serious trekking before, apart from Kilimanjaro, so this was an experiment. As a result I have learnt that I do not want to go trekking for 21 days in the Himalayas but that 5 days treks would be fine. Also, lodges would have been better than tents – but I had to learn that the hard way.

We were to walk about 20 km a day for 5 days in the Torres del Paine National Park in the very south of Chile, which is amazing, and as walking is the only way to see it - I had no choice anyway. It is am igneous massif, which has been eroded by the ice to form magnificent landforms and so as a geographer and geologist (v. rusty) I was in heaven

I was to hike the W – basically that is the shape of the hike on a map – with camping sites (I use the word very loosely) at the angles in the W. 20 km sounds like nothing, but we were carrying all our stuff – the porters only carried the tent, sleeping bag and food. In addition the terrain was poor and undulating, with lots of uphills and boulder fields, – so progress was slow and each day we were walking for up to 10 hours covering 2km an hour!!!!

Day 1 was tough as I battled with the ‘what the fuck am I doing here‘ question? However, as the scenery impressed me more and more, and we started to have fun scrambling up glacial boulder fields and stumbling across hidden glaciers and glacial lakes, I was soon converted.

There were 4 of us in the group – and I was the youngest – so I had no excuse but to keep up – the eldest was 72 – and he was like a gazelle and put me to shame. You get to know people very well when walking for so long and all my companions were great company. My tent partner was Ken – he was a British Columbian MP, the other two were a married couple from Oz – although Bill was originally from UK and at 72 was retired from the MOD, his wife June younger at only 57 was Burmese Chinese and was a GP in Sydney - we had a lot of fun. Our guide was Eduardo – a Chilean – who loved this park. We had three porters / cook – but to be honest their cooking was poor and I certainly did not spend the time walking thinking of dinner!!

What I did think about was my past and the future and I enjoyed having this time just to think.

We did not wash, shave or have showers for 5 days – as even where there were such things – the water was straight from the glaciers, and so super chilled! I would soak my feet in nearby rivers of glacial meltwater for up to 12 seconds each evening – and that was torture enough but really refreshing.

The scenery was amazing, as the photos show I hope, daylight was very long (20 hours at least), the weather sunny, mountain air was lovely, and all the water we collected and drank from the rivers was by far the best water that I have ever tasted and so it was all well worth it – I will definitely trek again.

The very basic wilderness camping was the worst bit. If I had done my research better – I would have discovered that there are Refugios en route – basic huts with dorms and cooking facilities that I could have booked into – but they fill up 6 months in advance, so we trekked past looking longingly.

I also went glacial trekking on the Grey Glacier in Chile and Perito Moreno in Argentina, both of which form part of the Southern Patagonian ice field which is the third largest ice field in the world after Antarctica and Greenland (so with two done – Greenland has to be done soon)

You would not believe how good the first shower and hotel bed felt – it was in a 2 start in Southern Argentina but felt better than the Burj!!

6 Jan 08 - The Whale Show

OMG – they were amazing, a pair of enormous humpbacks came close to the boat and spent at least two hours playing right next to it and in front, crossing from side to side, some people took over 400 photos !!! They were breaching, diving, displaying flukes (tails), flipper flapping and just playing, they were often so close that I couldn’t get them all in my zoom lens!!! They would spout and we would feel the whales breath spray. Really privileged to see this. That afternoon – we saw over 40 individuals, but none could match the show that these two had put on for us. Hope the video does it justice,

We had seen all that this trip had promised and more, we were satiated and 'suficiento' so 2 more days back across the Drake – more sleep and it was a sad disembarkation. Not sure if the sense of uniqueness and remoteness will be experienced ever again.


Some dulche de leche ire cream cheered me up!!

Derek flew home and I took a few days rest in 5 star hotels in Ushuaia and El Calafate before the next expedition, facials . massage, no dock rock, more steak and Malbec and prepared for the next adventure.

3 – 6 Jan 08 - Continental Landing and other adventures

Next morning we pressed on south and reached our southernmost point on Andersen Island at 66 52 2 - at this point had anything gone wrong, the nearest ship was 2 days sailing away !! – a sobering thought – but I loved its remoteness.

We spent the morning in zodiacs watching the wildlife and exploring the coastline in order to find somewhere to land on the continent. Due to sheer size of the ice sheet it is very difficult to set your foot on the actual Antarctic continent itself and until this point we had always landed on offshore islands, but on 2nd Jan at 66 01 7 S and 65 20 6 w, we set foot on the continent of Antarctica at an unnamed point. So I could now bag all 7 continents, need to do the moon next.

This was interrupted by our first sighting of a leopard seal; these eat penguins and hang around colonies on ice floes. We had to use the zodiacs to push through small bergs and dense brash ice to get close to this one. He was not bothered by us at all. We were wary of him, only a few metres away, but they have only ever killed one person, but Martin says they intimidate divers, as they are 4m in length, weigh a tonne and move so quickly. To me he looked serpent like and menacing, but he rolled over and basked in the sunshine. Like buses, when one comes along … for the next few days we couldn’t turn without seeing yet another one.

The fun continued when the ship crashed into a football pitch sized piece of floating sea ice (deliberately) trying to break it as it was blocking our channel, and if we could break it it would save about 10 hours sailing time. We tried three times, and failed. So having tested its strength we decided to get of and walk on it. It had a small colony of seals who were unperturbed by our presence and our snowball fight, we built a snowman. Eva the bar person brought a bottle of scotch along, and so we had it over very fresh polar ice!!! This trip is a non stop series of highs and excitement. Even the expedition team are saying that we have some amazing things, as none of them had walked on floating ice sheet since 1999. We have been so lucky (again and again).

Next excitement was a landing at the Vernadsky Station – a Ukrainian polar research base. It used to be British but we sold it for £1 10 years ago – obviously yet another labour party triumph !!! It used to be called Faraday and was where the Brits alerted the world to the presence of a hole in the ozone layer. We had a tour of the very modern base and had our passports stamped which was unnecessary but fun. However, then came a real memorable moment – a new way of drinking vodka!

Recipe

Take a shot glass of ice cold vodka (freezer will do, no need for an iceberg, also they had distilled their own – this is not necessary!)
Take a half slice of fresh orange (where they got this from who knows?), dip one side in sugar, the other in cheap instant coffee granules / powder.
Down vodka in one, suck on orange.

Sounds disgusting – it was amazing – I had two!

Heading north again through the Leamiare channel we had fantastic weather and perfect zodiac weather and so we spent 4 hours or so, in our small rubber zodiacs, inches above the water, playing about in boats – watching seals, penguins, icebergs, birds and the scenery. The perfect afternoon was completed when all five zodiacs met up to enjoy some Sauvignon Blanc in the middle of the channel – perfect.

One night we had a barbecue on the bow of the boat – which was fun and freezing!!!! – The argentine chefs doing their best to re-create an Asado.

Further stops at Neko harbour, Useful Island and Portal Point and the trip was drawing to a close. However. our sightings of whales was pretty poor, we had even pursued a few in the zodiacs but they had got away – but that was about to change.

1 January 2008 - Camping it up beyond the Circle

Crossing the Antarctic Circle was a big deal for me and I was on the bridge when the satnav ( SURELY IT WAS A BIT MORE TECHNICAL THAN THAT) read 66° 33’ South!!! On the morning of 1 January 2008 - we had made it. A huge grin on all of our faces. and a little relived as we would have felt cheated had we not been able to come this far south. That was always a distinct possibility as the sea ice around Antarctica was greater this last winter than since records began. So much for global warming.

We landed at Detaille island, which was san abandoned British Antarctic Survey base. They had left in the mid 50s when Gill and Deryn were mere girls, over 50 years ago!! None of our team had ever been there before and they estimated that only about 200 people would get there in any one year, and we were the first 50 in 2008. The island was populated with crabeater and weddel seals and skuas However, the main attractions were a small number of wooden huts, untouched since the 50s. As Antarctica is technically a desert and gets less than 10cm of rain equivalent snow per year, the air is very dry and so nothing rots, and the huts were in an amazing condition. They looked as if the previous inhabitants had left in hurry, mail was scattered about, pots in the sink, coats and skis hanging up, beds unmade and the stores of food – HP sauce,, tins of porridge oats, pickle, biscuits, salad cream, were all stacked neatly in the cupboards, it was fascinating and we felt privileged to see all this stuff.

However, the main excitement of the day was to come. After dinner, Martin informed us that those of us who had elected a nights camping ( seemed like a good idea last March in London) would spend the night under polypropylene (modern day canvas?) on Detaille Island that night – buggers and we were just getting comfortable. So back into our multilayered cold weather gear, back onto the zodiacs and at 9pm we were flattening the snow (in a blizzard) and pitching flimsy, dome tents designed for somewhere else. Derek and I were to share a tent (and he had complained about my snoring keeping him awake in the cabin )– this was going to be a nightmare for him – but not for me as I would be asleep !!

Tents pitched, we had taken a chemical loo ashore and it needed to have some nice snow walls built around if for privacy and so this was the next task. I managed to avoid the tough job of building the walls of snow, but did manage to get a spade into my hands for the photo!!

By now it was 10pm, broad daylight – so what to do now as sleeping was going to be tough. We climbed to the top of the island, and were rewarded with great views, but also got dive bombed by large skuas protecting their nest. We saw where the dogs would have lived for the Brits sledging exhibitions to the interior, and we watched the seals, you do have to make your own entertainment as there is not much Antarctica night life!!!! However, I had a secret stash, although we had been told not to take any foreign materials ashore – I had a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and a Cohiba which 5 of us shared sitting in the snow outside the tent (like kids behind the bike shed!) and a memorable bottle and cigar is was too.

I slept like a log – Derek didn’t.

29 – 31 Dec 07 - First sighting and a swim

Overnight we crossed the Antarctica Convergence where the relatively warm waters of the South Atlantic, Pacific and Indian Oceans meet the colder waters of the Southern Ocean. On our crossing, this boundary was marked by a band of fog. This area really marked our entry to Antarctica, the air felt chillier, huge grey tabular icebergs loomed on the horizon, birds were left behind and even the Albatross said NO.

And then there was land – The South Shetland Islands came into view, hinting at the continent itself, the islands were snow covered, igneous rock and looked like chocolate marble cake.

Zodiacs were launched that first evening and in glorious late evening sunshine ( we were to get no night for 2 weeks) we landed at Barrientos Island in the Aitcho Group. We saw our first fur seals, Chinstrap Penguins Antarctic skuas and a lonely King penguin. The King was 800 miles away from South Georgia which is where they nest and is where he should have been. It was very sad to watch him call for his mate. It would have had no chance of meeting up with another King Penguin ever again, and was doomed to spend the rest of his life mateless and as an alien ion a colony of temperamental, stone robbing, noisy and smelly chinstraps. The feisty attitude of the chinstraps was hilarious and I think they are my favourite penguins.

The following day we landed at Half Moon Island in the morning and then sailed into the caldera of an active volcano at Deception Island. You enter trough a narrow channel that the sea has breached and is known as Neptune’s Bellows, a steep sided volcanic channel. Here (at Pendulum Cove) we went swimming!! However, deception was a good name as despite the promise of the steam rising from the hot steam vents, the water was either at -1C or +50C and with little happy medium, and with a minus 10C air temperature, undressing from all our layers and replacing them on the windswept volcanic sand beach was far from tropical – but we had swum in the Antarctic – so tick in that box.

We typically went ashore twice a day for up to 3 to 4 hours at a time. All landings were on beaches or on rocks and were wet – i.e. we needed wellingtons as we had to step into the water each time. We were then free to wander where we wanted or just sit and let the penguins approach us – which many did as they inquisitive and have no fear of humans as they have no land based predators. Overnight we sailed across the Bransfield Strait to Danco Island and the Leamire???? Channel which is the Antarctic Peninsula proper. It was cloudy and snowing with poor visibility as we zodiaced for 4 hours through the Leamire Channel – we did not know it until the return journey but this is also known as Kodak Gap as it is so photogenic – but we saw very little but had the adventure of zodiacing around the icebergs and the brash ice. I remember seeing our ship sail past us in the fog which was eerie, and we met it on the other side of the Lemaire. .

By now it was new year’s eve and how bizarre to celebrate it in daylight at midnight on the deck of a ship in Antarctica. Happy New Year!

27 – 28 Dec 07 - The Dreaded Drake…..

… was kind to us and we had a rapid 48 hour crossing, only suffering from some large Southern Ocean swell that passes for calm in this part of the world, but I’m rushing ahead of myself.

Ushuaia or ‘fin del mundo’ really does feel like the end of the world. Colourful from a distance, as it clings beneath the snow capped Andes as they peter out into the seas around Tierra del Fuego, close up it is a frontier town. It is dominated by hard faces, run down cars and feral dogs. Here, in mid-summer, the cold Antarctic wind was the only hint of what lay 500 miles south and 2 days sailing away over the horizon.

First sighting of out ship – Professor Multanovskiy was a shock. It was tiny and rusted compared to the enormous Marco Polo berthed next door!! In fact it almost looked no bigger than a Marco Polo life boat!! It was indeed tiny (only 12m across) and 65 m long, but it quickly became home for us and the other 46 passengers. Our cabin was compact and last decorated in 1980s Russia and was without facilities – so the toilet and showers were a short haul down the corridor and shared with about 6 other cabins. Gill, you would have hated this part, but actually they were fine and didn’t bother us at all and there is an art to using either facility in the swell.

The ship’s crew was Russian, there was the captain, navigator, first mate, a few engineering types who had oily hands all the time, 2 waitresses and two Argentine cooks. They were the permanent crew who spent the summers either in Antarctica or the Arctic as the ship moves north in the northern summer.

The dining rooms, had tables for 6 or 8 and the chairs were bolted down and tables covered in plastic sheets. Glasses had to be stored in wooden stabilisers and there was a pile of sick bags next to the salt!! In the circumstances food was great – each meal started with soup – so Derek and I used to fight to sit at the end of the tables in order to serve the soup and get the seconds!!!

The bar was small and the drinks were so cheap – too cheap if you know what I mean.

The expedition staff were assigned just for a few trips per year and they were specialists in their fields. They were lead by the swashbuckling Martin from Sweden who was a polar scuba diver and wildlife photographer – he was in charge. His team included Jeff, the author of the Antarctica Lonely Planet, Tony – the humorous ornithologist, an ex British civil servant who was indulging himself by spending every summer bird watching in Antarctica. (knew everything there was to know about penguins, petrels and albatross), Jamie – a British marine biologist (who loved krill, seals and whales) an aussie geologist, geomorphologist and glaciologist and Matt the aussie doctor who was not getting paid but was on a free trip – he had been on a waiting list to do this for 3 years. . Not only were they the resident experts but they doubled up as guides, zodiac drivers, expedition planners, our dining companions and bar mates to boot Their enthusiasm was contagious and they were having as much fun as the rest of us, because for them it was paid holiday doing what they loved.

We were under no illusion that this was an expedition and not a cruise. Where we would land and how far south we would go would depend on the weather and ice conditions and so nothing was guaranteed. The bridge was open 24 hrs a day and we were often there for discussions between the captain and the team leader on where we could get to, as they poured over charts and weather forecasts. We were there when a distress signal came in from another ship – but we were at least 2 days sailing away thank goodness.

Our aim was to cross the Antarctic Circle and be the first ship that far south this season and indeed in 2008. But as we set off nothing was guaranteed.

I’m racing ahead again as I am actually still buzzing as I write this in El Calafate nearly a month later and the buzz is incredible.

We sailed out of Ushuaia at 6pm and headed south down the Beagle (as in Darwin) Channel on a beautiful sunny (but nippy) long summer evening. We were so excited, cameras already clicking like mad as we saw our first Wandering Albatross and patterned Cape Petrels gliding effortlessly in the updrafts as the followed the ship. We had a pilot for the first 4 hours until we got to open water. Martin then made an announcement that the pilot had left the ship and were on our own and heading south – oh shit!!

We felt the swell almost immediately and it was soporific (or was that the overdose of seasickness tablets that we were all doped up on). The crossing is legendary as we have to sail across the main current which circumnavigate the continent and at 90 degrees to the prevailing furious fifties and screaming 60s for 2 whole days. On average the weather fronts and low pressure storms follow each other every 35 hours, – but we missed them (on both legs) which was a tad disappointing. Although I have been assured by everyone who did experience such a storm that we were the lucky ones. In between sleeping and eating, we enjoyed the bracing decks, watching the swell, the birds and the moody skies It really felt as if we were leaving the rest of the world behind us as we dropped off the end.

In Australia for Australia Day (26 Jan 2008)

A 4 hour flight on Air Pacific brought me here from Fiji to the Sunshine Coast, north of Brisbane. I am staying at the Rydges Oasis in Caloundra which is the southernmost point of the Sunshine coast. A funny little place, it feels like I have come to Bournemouth – but a little warmer! The hotel is like a small housing estate with a mix of terraced houses and 3 storey flats. I am in one of the flats – a studio that is fine and clean although a little tired (especially after my room at the Hilton). There’s a little kitchen area in the room too – but a dire warning on the wall about the danger of burning your toast and you then having to pay for the fire brigade turnout if the smoke alarm goes off! There is a little lake, a reasonable swimming pool and a restaurant that also does takeways. Today is Australia Day so I as soon as I arrived (about 5.30pm), I ventured out to see what was happening. The whole town (and country I assume) seemed to be “en fete”. There is a lovely boardwalk along the coast from here to King’s Beach, and it was thronged with families out enjoying the warm evening. There was a bit of a wind off the sea and some big surfing waves, but loads of people in there watched over by the lifeguards. Picnics everywhere, and people cooking their food on the public bbq’s they have out here. Stalls selling candyfloss, fairground rides and Oz flags everywhere, on balconies, cars and beachtowels. There was even a campervan with a huge model of a kangaroo wrapped in a flag on the top. Lots of “tinnies” too, but no sign of anyone being drunk. So different from at home. It’s so nice to see, it seems to be a nation who take a real pride in being Australian and today there are also a lot of citizenship ceremonies where people who have emigrated here take their oath of allegiance before being officially naturalised. Everyone it seems, men included, also had a little Australian flag painted on their face, I felt quite left out! And as I sit here on my balcony writing this, I can hear the firework display in the background. The weather in this part of the country has been really bad recently with some very bad flooding – they did need the rain as Queensland was running very short of water, but in some areas it has been catastrophic. But at least the rain held off here for their Australia Day celebrations, and hopefully for the next couple of days, Sunday and then Monday which is a National holiday.

Bula from Fiji (21 - 26 Jan 2008)

Bula is the traditional greeting here in Fiji, you can’t walk past anyone without them saying it, nice but it got a bit wearing at times. It also sounds quite close to the Spanish “Hola” and as my Spanish is so good, I found myself replying “Hola” to them, no wonder they looked confused! I have to admit, I have been a bit lazy here in Fiji, but the hotel was so fab, I really didn’t want to move. Most of the activities also seem to be based on boat trips, and as there isn’t a tame little lagoon here, we are talking open sea, I wimped out. It’s odd, it felt a bit like a “holiday”; a week in a great place – but holiday from what I ask myself, isn’t that what I am doing all the time? The pic is my favourite reading spot, 2 metre square cushions sunk into the deck by the pools (there are 5), with a view of the sea – very relaxing. And after the edge of the cyclone passed the weather has been perfect, a really pleasant change from the Cook Islands. Lots of sunshine with a really heavy tropical shower in the late afternoon. I did go into Nadi for the day – a scruffy little town with not a lot to redeem itself. Half of the population here are Indians who generations ago came here to work the sugar fields. Nadi is very Indian – small sari shops, lots of curry cafes and motor spare part shops; the smell of the curry combined with lots of incense really took me back. There is a large Hindu temple at one end of the town which I went to see and was taken around. Very colourful buildings and murals and ceilings, all depicting the various Hindu gods. I made a special puja to Laxmi, the goddess of wealth, so will check my lottery numbers this week! Whilst I was there, there was a service going on so I was invited to stay for that. Not sure my ears have recovered yet, drums seem to be rather important, and unfortunately I was standing right beside the “drum machine”, a Heath Robinson contraption fuelled by a diesel generator and lots of fly wheels that made the most unbelievable noise… the guide confided in me that they used it to save the cost of drummers, obviously diesel is the lower cost option. The guide also suggested that I might like to stay on for lunch at the canteen inside the temple, but I made my excuses and left! I was also shown the “float” with statues of Hindu gods on that is taken around the town each day. I was told that on Saturday as it is the biggest Hindu festival of the year, it will be pulled around the town by men who are attached to it by hooks embedded in their skin… not sure if I am sorry or glad to be missing that spectacle as it is the day I leave. Each night at the hotel there was something on at 8.30pm. A couple of nights it was the usual not very good hotel band, but I also saw a fire show and a Fijian dance. The fire show was really interesting – obviously a strange local custom and there was lots of macho throwing of rather dangerous looking flame torches by the men in their grass skirts (how come a man in a grass skirt with a flower behind the ear can look so good – perhaps it was the six packs they were all sporting…), and lots of more graceful fire basket swinging by the girls, odd really but entertaining. But like on Aitutaki, I think we got the local amateurs, lots of fire was dropped on the sand…… But it was all done on the beach against an amazing backdrop of the huge Nadi Bay, a full moon and a thunderstorm in the distance with some quite impressive lightening in the background. And as the final fire crescendo happened, there was the most tremendous roll of thunder exactly the same time as the audience applauded – the gods must also have approved of their performance. Last night there was a Fijian dance – it has been interesting to see the slight differences in the cultures of the different Pacific Islands, but all with similar hypnotic drumming and beautiful Polynesian voices and harmonies. And fashion of course, the costume here is still grass skirts, but only for the men and the young women. Last night’s dancers were mainly larger middle aged women and they have eschewed the old half a coconut bra (probably wise…), they wear what looks like some sort of tree bark wrapped around, which is tied in a very elaborate bow at the back. So back to my fantastic room to pack, and at turndown was presented with a lovely miniature carved Kava bowl as a souvenir from the Hilton. How nice, thank you Mr Hilton, I really appreciated it.

Flashpacking and frogs free in Fiji (20 January 2008)

Thanks Hilton Honors, am very happily ensconced in a 1 bed suite at the Hilton Fiji – free courtesy of my Hilton points. This is real flashpacker stuff, a new, ultra modern resort, an upgrade to this amazing room overlooking acres of navy blue swimming pools with lots of infinity edges and then the sea. It’s a virtual home from home, a laundry (washer, dryer, iron etc all tastefully hidden behind clouded glass doors), an amazing bathroom with a huge freestanding bath (and a key measure for me is always “would I have a bath here?” – very few hotels in the world would I answer yes, this is one), a huge bedroom, a little fitted kitchen with all mod cons including a dishwasher in a drawer and a living area with big squashy sofas. 2 huge flatscreen tv’s, Bose sound system, the works. Think I will be quite the domestic goddess doing my washing and cooking a bit of tea! But of course there is always room service and a great restaurant if needed. On my terrace I even have a rather flash gas barbie – you can order a barbie pack from room service of steak and catch of the day and cook away – I may just have to do that one night! Good flight here with Air Pacific – seat 1A (always my favourite) on a jumbo, with a longer flight than usual to fly around the bad weather. Cyclone Funa is hitting Vanuatu and skirting Fiji….. When I arrived the winds were really strong – less apparently than the day before, but quite scary nonetheless. But as today has gone on they have got lighter and lighter and the sun has even been shining – long may it stay that way. The Hilton is on an island (well it is actually an island but the bridge from the mainland is so small you don’t even know you’ve crossed it) called Denarau. It’s a bit of a tourist enclave with five 5* hotels, golf course etc. The Bullah bus (a thatch top shuttle bus) does a free circuit into the port where I went today to do a bit of shopping – not good shopping but was able to stock up for my fridge. There’s also a great deli here that does good coffee and sadly rather gorgeous doughnuts…. So today has been settling in, getting my wifi up and running. The beach is not one of the best I’ve seen, in fact it’s not really very nice at all, but there were loads of people today clearing the rather grey looking seaweed, so perhaps that’s a result of the bad weather over the last 2 days. As is usual in resorts like this, there is a programme of “animation”, nothing too in your face though. At 6pm there is the torch lighting ceremony – two rather well muscled men with war paint in grass skirts banging drums and then lighting torches all around the resort, looks a bit dangerous to me, those grass skirts could catch fire any moment, but they could always fling themselves into the pool in an emergency. I think it’s not really local custom, more a way of waking everyone up from their afternoon naps to get the bar takings up! But quite a nice sight…. and it was rude not to go to the bar as they had made so much effort. It was a happy me that was lounging around on a 10ft square sofa drinking a cold glass of Sauvignon Blanc as the sun went down. And tonight was the international frog race. Long story short, 9 frogs, each a different nationality race against one another. But to “own” a frog you have to place the highest bid. It’s really interesting watching the bidding – you can feel the testosterone as males from each nation seriously bid against one another. Sadly England was the lowest at $5, I think Australia was the most at $135. Ant, I did bid for the Welsh frog for you, but gave up at $12, the bidding was too rich for a poor pensioner like me…. India won by the way. And so far so good here on the South Pacific mozzie front – I’m obviously not such a culinary treat here as I was in the Cook Islands, or perhaps it’s more to do with flashpacking and a good shot of DDT every so often in the foliage!

The long and winding road....(18 January 2008)

…..back to Auckland. My time in Rotorua has come to an end, and I have really enjoyed it. It’s given me the taste for exploring New Zealand a little bit more. It’s so easy to get around, with good roads and good signposts, and very little traffic, so driving is a pleasure. And the weather has been really fantastic – I was expecting a “British” summer, but have got something much better – lovely hot days (but cool evenings) and blue skies all day long – not sure it’s always that way. Perhaps next time a motorhome, there are loads of them about. So I decide to take the long way back to Auckland, and drive over to the coast and take the Pacific Coast Highway north to take in the wonders of the New Zealand coastline. I get to the coast – where is the sea? Nowhere to be seen! My map didn’t show it, but the land must rise from the coast very steeply, so the drive along the Pacific Coast yields very few glimpses of the sea! The one bit I did find is in the pic – with rolling waves and beautiful blue sea – so I had to stop to have fish and chips! But most of the drive was through heavily wooded mountains, up and down (the car struggled at times), around really sharp hairpin bends with rather alarming drops to one side. But spectacular scenery. When you finally hit the flatter bits outside of Auckland you see again all the blue and white agapanthus – they seem to grow like weeds here, as do avocados – 12 for 75p advertised all the way along the road. This must be the fruit growing area too as there were also pick your own for plums, nectarines, peaches. Tonight am ensconced in a good little motel near the airport (complete with palm fringed swimming pool – see pic), ready to take my hire car back in the morning, and fly to my next destination – Fiji.

Flying laundry and the most unusual theme park in the world (17Jan 2008)

Having my trusty hire car is great, it means I can do my own thing, so today I decide to head further down the North Island to Taupo, the great big lake in the middle. On the way I visit the Wai-O-Tapu (Sacred Waters) Thermal Wonderland, including the world famous Lady Howe Geyser that erupts at 10.15am prompt every day. All the way there, I was puzzled – time is a man-made thing, so how does this geyser know to erupt at the same time each day? I sit in the “amphitheatre” with everyone else, looking at this grey pyramid shape of stone awaiting the wondrous event. And at precisely 10.15am the park ranger appears with a brown paper bag in his hand and throws the contents down the hole. He explains that the normal cycle of the geyser is not predictable, so they drop down 300g of soap powder to break the surface tension, and bingo, off she goes! A bit like a giant bubble machine as the soap powder does its work. I’m sure at school they taught us that volcano things spurt lava, not lather. Bit of a let down really... Apparently many moons ago, there was a prison nearby and as the prisoners did their washing, they accidentally dropped some soap in the geyser and got the fright of their lives as it went off and their undies flew 20 metres into the air. So their accidental discovery has spawned another tourist spot. But the rest of the park seemed a lot more natural, amazing colours depending on which mineral is present, champagne pools (sadly not the real thing, just lakes with small bubbles rising all the time), and deep holes full of mud plopping away. But that was only the starter, my main target for the day was a theme park like no other, situated near the Huka Falls – the publicity blurb reads “The Huka Falls are impressive, true. But after you’ve seen a million litres of water fly off a cliff once, you need to pick up the excitement a bit. Luckily Huka Prawn Park is just up the road”. The idea of a Prawn theme park, the home of “Shawn the Prawn” was just so silly I had to go. It was the kind of place Ant and Dec would go – I remember a couple of years ago when they were doing I’m a Celebrity in Oz, they had to go to Tropical Fruit World as it was so silly – this for me was the same! This place is about as far away from the sea as you can get in New Zealand, why are they growing prawns? I can’t believe I’m saying this but it was really interesting! I learnt all about prawn farming, and even fed the baby ones by hand. I passed on the killer prawn golf and the hook a prawn fishing (whatever you catch they cook for you), but did the nature walk along the Waikoto river, and finished with the geothermal foot bath – very nice it was too. But the real target, it so happened it was just about lunch time, was the restaurant where I was able to sample the delicious fruits of their labour. I then actually went to the real natural wonder of the area, Huka Falls – not really falls as we know them, more a rather large bit of white (or should I say deep blue) water where the river goes downhill a bit. The water was so clear it was amazing. Then on into Taupo where the enormous lake has a little beach that was full of people having a day out and enjoying the water as it was a lovely hot summer day. But as you look in the distance, there was a mountain that still has lots of snow on the top. A great place to live if you like the water, a bit of heat and also skiing. Back the country way, driving through farming and logging areas, with lots of dairy cows (all that farming education in Argentina has paid off…) eating all that green grass to make that lovely Anchor butter. It was a really clear night and it was quite special looking at the Southern skies which are so full of stars, whilst listening to the primordial sounds of the bubbling mud just a few yards away.

Pompeii of the Southern hemisphere (16 Jan 2008)

Rotorura, when you get over the smell (but actually the wind must have changed direction, it’s nowhere near as bad today) is a great place. There’s such a lot to do, both here and a little further afield. As well as the geothermal stuff (there are sites everywhere) it also appears to be the adrenaline junkie’s paradise with bungy, zorbs, off road, sky diving – you name it, it’s here. And other attractions like the Agrodome (sheep shearing demos) and Caterpillar world – no not those little wriggly things but the earth moving equipment…. But those of you who know me will not be surprised that I go for gentler pursuits. So Day 1 of my sightseeing started with a visit to the buried village (New Zealand’s Pompeii), a Maori village that was destroyed by a volcano in early Victorian times. It was really well done and told the story of a Victorian tourist trap where people came to see the volcanic terraces. Tourism took over the village, they stopped planting and growing and started drinking; the elders foretold that destruction would follow….. they were right. One night the volcano went, the village was destroyed and buried forever – perhaps there’s a lesson there, if there’s too much drinking in Rotorua tonight, we’d better watch out! Then a drive to the various lakes in the area, a geothermal park to see mud pools gurgling away and spurts of water popping up every so often… watch where you walk, or you could get an unexpected mud bath treatment. Then on to Lake Rotorua which is lovely, and so easy to park, it’s right in town, and admire the rather regal black swans that live there. Then into town to find wifi – and found it in the local backpackers hostel that looked really nice. It’s amazing the variety of people that you see checking in – perhaps I need to take a closer look!

A day goes missing between Raro and Roto... (15 January 2008)

As I relaxed on my flat bed with Air New Zealand between Rarotonga and Rotorua (via Auckland), enjoying good food, good wine and a smooth flight, suddenly 27 hours had gone by – given it was a 4 hour flight and NZ is only 1 hour different from the Cook Islands, what had happened? Had I been abducted by aliens? No, I was only paying a debt, paying back that extra Xmas day I had had by crossing my old friend, the International dateline yet again. It’s interesting what a different perspective you can have on a city depending on how you travel. Last time I came via Auckland, I was out of the airport in a limo, and quickly checked in to the Hilton on the harbour (one of the flashier ones) and I saw Auckland as a small but sophisticated city. This time, getting onto the mini bus shuttle and checking into the Kiwi International Hotel and Hostel (I was checking into the hotel part, god knows what the hostel was like….) suddenly Auckland appeared to me more like Birmingham on a bad day. The room was clean (always the first thing I check), but the décor of peeling yellow wallpaper and nasty dark brown lino on the bathroom floor wasn’t quite my décor of choice… But as ever, I survived, and had a good night’s sleep. This morning after a decent coffee (well, I know not everyone would agree, but a skinny latte at Starbucks has to be decent after weeks of Nescafe), I sorted the hire car to drive the 234 kms along the Thermal Explorer Highway to Rotorua. A nice drive, a mix of motorway, dual carriageway and single lane roads, and NZ drivers on the whole do seem to be much better than those at home. The car, not the blingmobile I am used to, but a rather old Toyota Corolla reminiscent of the one in the tv series Starsky & Hutch (you pay a lot for vintage these days) but the driver’s door did open - I didn’t have to climb in through the window. I have booked into the Quality Inn, Geyserland, the only one with a view of a geyser, and it seems I have been upgraded to a corner suite (they must have known I am a lady of quality) and the room is much nicer than promised on Tripadvisor. It’s a feast for the senses, vision – a view of a huge geyser spouting white water many metres into the air against a green backdrop of wooded hills; sound – the mud pool plopping away like a pan of mushy peas, touch I haven’t sorted yet as I think it may just boil your finger off, and of course smell. I thought initially that there was a bit of a drain problem in the hotel, but no, forward planning again, book geyser and mud pool facing and you should really expect to be assailed by the smell of sulphur. Another opportunity for P&G; Febreze sales here must be huge! How people can live with it I don’t know, I’m sure there are benefits like free hot water and all that, but frankly, I’d rather pay British Gas and do without the smell. Am sure I can manage for a couple of days. The hotel is right on Te Puia, New Zealand’s Maori Cultural Centre and nowhere else on earth is the earth’s crust thinner. It’s a bit like a pizza I suppose. I always thought I was a thin crust girl, but feeling the heat of the inside of the earth through your feet at times feels a bit too close for comfort. Every so often I can feel a vibration in the earth, but I’m sure that’s just big lorries going by on the main road behind the hotel….
The welcome here is Kia Ora, meaning Hello– funny really, all those years ago when Mum used to buy Kia Ora orange squash it sounded so exotic – hello orange squash doesn’t sound quite the same!

Reflections on Rarotonga (13 January 2008)

After my trip to Aitutaki, Air Rarotonga got me back here safe and sound, and as you can se on the left modelling the latest headgear - it smells lovely! Am here for a couple of nights and after almost 3 weeks in the Cook Islands, I am about to move on – next stop New Zealand. It’s been the relaxing time that I had planned – time to unpack the case for a few days at least, and take time to appreciate the beauty of the South Pacific. A few things to note for next time or for anyone else thinking of visiting here- be prepared:
· to slow down to Island time – nothing is done – or indeed needs to be done – in a hurry. A simple lunch of a sandwich and a coffee in town takes at least an hour – so sit back and enjoy!
· to bring your biggest credit card, Tahiti has always been known as the most expensive place; the Cook Islands is catching up and apparently is running a close second.
· to go back in time to the 1950’s where shopping is concerned. Not just the lack of shops, but the lack of choice! And no alcohol sold in the shops after 9pm or all day Sunday. The shops close at 12.30 on Sat and all day Sunday. We forget with the shopping hours at home how easy it is to get exactly what you want, when you want. If things run out here, there’s nothing to be done but wait 2 weeks for the next supply boat…. but in itself, that has a charm of its own.
· for rain – I know it’s wet season, but the amount of rain here was a surprise – I thought it would be showers with sun in between, but some of the time here it has been continuous. But on the upside, it’s always nice and warm and these weather patterns are unusual.
· to become a Christian! The Cook Islands, as a result, I suppose, of the missionaries, are strongly Christian. On Aitutaki at least, grace before meals was compulsory - before the Island Night buffet and the on board barbie, all were required to close eyes and bow heads as grace was said, and join in with the “Amen” at the end!
· to feel safe. As I travelled round the islands, it appears people leave their doors and windows wide open, even when no one’s at home. You can walk along in the dark quite happily, and everyone says a friendly “Kia Orana” (may you live long), the traditional Cook Island greeting as they walk or “scooter” by. Also there are no poisonous insects or snakes of any kind on any of the islands.
· to bring lots of mozzie repellent – they are quite persistent little things….
· to take trips to the other islands – there are a few more out there I need to come back to visit.
· to enjoy the spectacular sunsets, the amazing colours and warmth of the crystal clear water, the white sand, the peace and quiet. Kia Orana.

Shipwrecked! (10th January 2008)

Those of you who know me well and my love of reality TV will not be surprised by my excitement today. But let me start at the beginning. It was a rather strange morn on Aitutaki – I awoke to a strange sky – a yellow thing, little white fluffy things, and rather large patches of blue and no pitter patter of raindrops on the roof – yes, sunshine had arrived, and it looked like staying that way. In fact it was a picture perfect South Pacific day – the colours of the lagoon more turquoise than ever, the huge sky melting into it, and those lovely cloud formations that seem so much a part of the picture you have in your mind of what the South Pacific should be. The perfect day to be out on the lagoon. I was recommended to go on the Vaka Titi-ai-Tonga, a 70ft double hulled traditional Polynesian boat. It was these Vaka’s or boats that sailed 1000 years ago to populate these spread out islands, navigating only by the stars. Frankly, they must have had a few down days not going very far, the weather and cloud cover means that there aren’t too many stars out most nights, so navigation must have been a touch difficult at times. And at first sight, the Titi-ai-Tonga looked like it had been built and sailed 1000 years ago too. But telling myself that it was very calm, we were staying within the lagoon and there was a good lunch on offer, I decided to go for it. I walked around the beach to where it started from – and was accompanied at the water’s edge by schools of small white fish swimming along purposefully in line, looking for all the world like commuters crossing London Bridge on the way to work. After travelling to the southernmost point of the lagoon through amazing waters, the captain announced that we were making our first stop of 2 islands before lunch. When he told us that these were the 2 islands used in Channel 4’s “Shipwrecked – Battle of the Islands” 2007 I was beside myself with this unexpected bonus! I watched this religiously for 3 months this summer, making sure it was on Sky+, including the Sunday night repeat in case Sky+ failed. In fact the beauty of the islands that I had seen on the tv was a contributing factor to my coming to the Cook Islands in the first place. So off I stepped onto Shark Island (originally the boy’s one at the beginning of the series). There are still a few remnants left, and the attached pic is me sitting proudly on the little bench used for the necklace ceremony when the Saturday beach party was on Shark. For me an even better “seat” picture than sitting on “Diana’s seat” at the Taj Mahal. Sad really, but there you are. Then onto Tiger Island (these aren’t the actual island names, but the team island names used in the series – never did find out their real ones). I always wanted to be a Tiger (their necklaces were better…) and here I was, living my dream. And I was not disappointed – this island was even prettier, with a little baby island on one end. But I understood now how they all seemed to suffer so badly from insect bites, as I remain the food capital of the South Pacific mozzie world, despite my approaching Deet poisoning from the amounts I am using! But at least I came away with a true Tiger souvenir, a few more mozzie bites. Since being here I also have a fuller understanding of their culinary issues whilst they were shipwrecked here – I thought that the tins of tuna, lambs tongues, rice and sweetcorn supplemented by the fish they could catch and the coconuts they could collect were just a ploy by the production team to make life difficult for them – but now I know better – they seem to be the only things in the shops. So after such excitement, how could my day get better? A little later we moored in the middle of the lagoon for snorkelling, whilst some real tuna (not out of a tin, what a novelty) was cooked on the on board barbie, and that together with salads, doughnuts and bananas (I know, an odd combination, but it worked) was prepared. As we ate, we were transported to One Foot Island, another amazing tropical Paradise with warm seas for a 2 hour stop and a chance to snooze on the beach. Not sure why, but you can have your passport stamped here. I chose to leave mine safely behind in case it got dropped in the sea – and god knows what sort of questioning you would get from US immigration in the future with such an odd stamp… So finally back to base and an early meal at Samade on the beach – another Cinderella moment – I had to get back before dark as without any scooter lights to guide me in the dark, I may never have found my way home.

Off road again... (9th January 2008)

Readers will know that I have been off road several times since this journey began, but normally in the blingmobile with Ant for moral support in Argentina. But now I was on my own. The pattern of weather in the Cook Islands hadn’t changed – I awoke to the pattering of rain on the roof – the grey skies looked set for the day. So what to do – no more reading of trash novels on the verandah for me. My first thought was to hire a car and explore, but forward planning let me down again. My driving licence was safely ensconced in the safe deposit box on Rarotonga. Not having hired a scooter in Rarotonga, I had also not taken my bike test there so couldn’t hire one of those either. So all that was left was a push bike. Apart from cycling in China this year, the last time on a bike was more years ago than I care to remember. The only bike available was a mountain bike so I went for that – not sure what the gears were for or even how they worked, so I just got on and pedalled. Originally I was just going into town and back, but decided that it would be more fun to cycle right around the island, and the rain wasn’t really that bad. My A Level geography told me that if I stuck to the coast road and kept the sea on my right at all times, I would get back to where I started, and it should be level. The map looked simple, about 2/3 tarmac road, and 1/3 not, whatever that meant. I started well, going at a good pace to find the internet café (no WiFi here) to do a quick e mail to Mum and it was quick, at £1 for 5 mins it was the fastest ever! A few kms further on I got into town – not a lot to stop for, a small wharf, no shops to speak of but a band playing at full tilt under a gazebo, with no one but me listening… On I pressed, and started to realise just exactly what non tarmac roads are. Basically bits of coral and rock, lots of potholes turning into mud and bits of grass. No houses, just coconut palms right to the edge of the beach and quite a few goats. But I had reached the point of no return – I must get back to tarmac soon I thought. I obviously underestimated my road speed (no yellow jersey for me….), and even though on the map I should have returned to civilisation some time ago, the mud was getting worse and worse, as the rain got heavier and heavier….. But I finally reached the bit where the road turned slightly inland and turned back to tarmac for a while – but sadly there was a rather big hill in front of me – so no choice, I either retraced my mud kms or went bravely up the hill –too late now, but if only I knew how those gears worked it may have been a little easier. But as the rain got even heavier, I must have been getting lighter by the minute with all the calories expended. Suffice to say after 25kms, and wet through, I had done it – I had circled the island with no more injuries than a rather sore bum – I had discovered that mountain bike saddles are not the most comfortable way to travel. Just to prove it, the pic shows said bike parked gratefully by my hut at the end of my journey - it looks even more worn out than me!

Island Night (8 Januay 2008)

The weather in Aitutaki is meant to be better than Raro’ as there isn’t that big mountain in the middle collecting rain one side and then dumping it on me on the other – so it was a little disappointing to settle on the sun bed under the palm tree with a good book only to have to keep running back to my verandah to shelter from the rain. But it was still warm, the sea was still blue, so I took a damp walk around the beach to find a spot of lunch at the Boatyard café. Lots of fish in the shallow water, and an alarming number of small crabs scuttling about. Don’t know what they’re called, but they are a dark colour, except for one bright pink claw that looks like they are carrying around one of those sweetie prawns we used to buy as kids. After lunch took a longer walk towards the town, and on several occasions was offered a lift by local people on scooters, in vans or cars. There’s no bus service here as there is on Raro’, so it’s lovely that people offer you a lift. Didn’t accept as the purpose of the walk was to burn off some of the calories from the rather large ham and pineapple toasted sandwich I had just consumed… The other restaurant in the vicinity (apart from the flash hotel across the inlet, there are only the two) was the Samade on the beach. In fact the tourist literature proudly points out that there are now 11 places to eat out in Aitutaki, a cornucopia of choice! Tuesday is the Samade Island Night. Never been a real fan of these “cultural evenings” and resisted going to one when in Raro, even though everyone will tell you that they are worth doing. I thought perhaps on the smaller island I would find something more genuine, and not a professional troupe. I was right! We started off with the buffet – again not one of my favourite things, but it was brought out just before we ate so seemed fresh. But it’s odd, in a place that’s surrounded by the bounty of the lagoon, fish and seafood don’t seem to feature much. One of the dishes was a large “seafood” salad with rice which looked really good – but on eating, I found that the seafood was crabsticks. Now I’m partial to a crabstick and they can often be found in my basket in Adsa’s, but when in the South Pacific I did expect something a little more local. But it tasted good. And after dinner the show began. No stage here – the buffet tables removed from the sand floor and the drums set up. It was a cast of thousands, the older men playing the local drums and the women singing fantastic Polynesian harmonies and song. The dancers appeared, the women in their long grass skirts and half coconut bras – I always thought the coconut bras were just tourist tat, but no. I understand they used to use pandanau leaf ones but the fashion for half coconut ones came across from Tahiti in the late 1990’s, much to the disgust of some local traditionalists. But like a Chanel classic, this fashion is here to stay. Whilst the drumming and singing by the elders of the group was perfect, the dancing by the younger members wasn’t quite as together! A ragtaggle of sizes, ages and shapes did their bit – like the curate’s egg, graceful in parts but less together in others. And the smell was interesting – the powerful smell of jasmine from their beautiful floral headdresses, leis and waist flowers mingled with something a little less floral – an opportunity here for Sure deodorant! But I enjoyed it. It turns out, talking to the 2 girls who service the rooms (well, “servicing” is used loosely, she asks if you want new towels and that’s about it….) that it’s a family troupe, and I recognised both of them as having danced the night before. It’s a family and the dancing is a part of that. She did say rather sheepishly that they had all been so busy they hadn’t had time to rehearse, so perhaps weren’t at their peak – I didn’t disagree! That night they were dancing again at the flash resort across the way – justice I guess, the cheap rooms got the rehearsal, the flash place got the best! But I wouldn’t have changed it, knowing it was a family thing rather than just a performing professional troupe made it much more enjoyable. But it was a late finish – 9.30pm and the sun had long set. It was a walk of about 100 metres back to my hut, but was really difficult. I have never been in such complete darkness before, no ambient light, and of course my forward planning failed me yet again – the small torch I had was nestled safely in my big bag that I had left behind in Rarotonga. I couldn’t see my feet, let alone the way forward. But as the evening had just finished, I was able to advance a few yards every so often as a lone scooter drove by and illuminated the path. Anywhere else in the word I think I may have felt a little frightened, but not here.

And on the 8th day God created Aitutaki Lagoon (7 Jan 2008)

….or so they say in the brochures – and as we came in to land on elastic band airways it was easy to believe the hype that this is one of the most beautiful lagoons on earth. Rarotonga is a circular island with a fairly narrow lagoon all the way around, Aitutaki, some 225kms north is a hook shaped island surrounded by a huge lagoon which is 12kms from north to south, and 15kms wide at the base. The view was stunning – this huge expanse of still turquoise water, paler in some places and deeper in others with tiny green dots (the motus) edged in the whitest sand ever. As I started the day I was a little concerned when my pickup from the hotel for the airport was scheduled for only 40 mins before the flight was due to take off – what about getting there, what about check in, what about security? But I needn’t have worried – the plane holds about 30 people, and as for security checks – well they don’t need those here it appears. Show ‘em your e ticket, no need for identification, get your boarding card that looks like a bus ticket and on you get….. In fact I was there far too early, but good people watching whilst I waited – a smattering of tourists but mainly Cook Islanders garlanded in fragrant leis and headdresses (men and women) either going home or going to visit relatives. The smell of frangipani will forever remind me of Air Rarotonga. I was also relieved – the publicity photos for Air Rarotonga all show sleek (but small…) planes that appear to fly by magic – there’s not an engine to be seen. But the good news is that there were 2 propellers, one on each wing, so I was safe to go. But perhaps I am being a little unfair on Air Rarotonga. The plane appeared in reasonably good nick and the pilots sounded reassuring. But no real safety briefing as such – just “read the info in the seat pocket about the brace position” and that was it. Given we were to fly over such a large expanse of water, I would have preferred to know that there were life jackets under those seats…. But as you are now reading this you will know that the flight was safe and uneventful – they even have a trolley for tea and coffee, and offer you a sweet before landing – never really understood that – I know the principle is to help with any ear pressure problems as you descend through the stratosphere, but at the height we were flying (much less than a jet where you don’t get the sweet, and it felt not too far above the sea) I can’t really see the purpose. Baggage reclaim is fun too, about 3 mins after you get off, your bags (not tagged by the way, with so few flights I assume that is deemed unnecessary too) appear on the little truck – Heathrow could learn a thing or two. So I was whisked off to Ranginui’s Retreat – 6 villas (ok – huts!) just a few miles from the airport – what a wonderful setting on a small inlet on the lagoon, pale sands, blue water. It must be the best location on the island as taunting me from across the small expanse of water (about 30 metres) was the island’s best 5 star jobbie with over water bungalows, the lot. So I took stock, what did they have that I didn’t? Well I certainly had about £400 a night more money in my bank account, my £50 v their £450. I had a great little hut, they had little huts (ok – villas!). Mine was detached, theirs were “semis”, I had a little kitchen so I wasn’t dependent on the vagaries of room service, they didn’t. They have the only private pool villa on the island (dread to think what that would cost), and I had my own little pool (see pic) just 2 steps away from my front door (ok it was shared by all 6 huts, but the hotel was quiet). I had a flush loo, so, I assume, did they – I had upgraded to the one hut that had a flush loo, all the others had “environmentally friendly compost” ones – I’m all for saving the planet, but not when it comes to a toilet….. OK, I didn’t get a nightly turndown with a choc on the pillow, but the little shop in reception did sell Kit Kats. So all in all, after checking the bed was clean (it was perfect) and said loo actually flushed (it did), I was happy, and settled on my verandah to take it all in. As dusk descended it was so quiet, even the insects seem to be quiet here. No barking dogs – there are none anywhere on the island. Apparently years ago, there was a leprosy outbreak and they thought the dogs were the cause – so they got rid of them all, never to return. As the darkness came, all I could hear was the odd splash as a school of fish took a flight out of the water and then splashed back…

Happy New Year (Jan 1 2008)

Happy New Year to all my readers if there are any out there…. A quiet New Year’s Eve for me as usual, chatting to the English couple next door who now live in New Zealand, and quietly reading on my terrace. At midnight, there was the sound of the odd firework, but that was drowned out by the noises of the roosters and chickens which are everywhere, and very noisy. And at 12.05, everything returned to normal, with just the sound of the waves crashing against the outer reef – bliss! I have made a few friends here in Paradise – not given them names yet, but my 2 faithful geekos appear each night to eat as many mozzies as they can – but frankly they are not doing too good a job! I am obviously the culinary delight of the mozzie world, and despite lashings of Bushman deterrent (strong enough for the Aussie bush apparently…..) they have taken a liking to me. I think the rainy season has something to do with it too. This New Year morning started off fine, bright and sunny, but whilst at the bar up the road (no, not for a drink, it’s a wireless hotspot and I was Skypeing Mum – honest. View from said spot before the rain came shown in pic), suddenly a fierce wind blew up and the rain started. Before it got too heavy, I decided to get back to my little “house” about ¼ mile away, but wasn’t quick enough. It was an interesting experience – like walking in a warm power shower that was turned on to full. But the local people riding by on their scooters (the main means of transport) didn’t seem fazed at all. Drowned rat is the look du jour........

Island Time (Dec 30th 2007)

I’m relaxing into Island time – the Cook Islands seem to have a rhythm of their own – and it’s a slow one. It’s a strange place – a mountain rising from the sea, surrounded by a narrow coastal strip of land, surrounded by a white sand beach, surrounded by a turquoise lagoon, surrounded by the Pacific Ocean – and miles and hours from anywhere (nearly 4 hours from Auckland). Rarotonga, the main island is not what I expected. As it is the largest island in the group and the capital, I think I expected something more Bali like, with lots of touristy things and at this time of year , lots of Aussies and New Zealanders here for the holidays. But no, the tourists are here, and given they outnumber the islanders it’s strange that you don’t see them. There are very few large hotels, places to stay are mainly like the place I am in, and the narrow white beaches surrounding the island are always empty. The Cook Islander’s appear to go on with their daily life with the tourists as welcome, but temporary guests here. Their culture remains strong, and again it’s different, as you walk past the small houses the music you hear is not western pop but local Polynesian. At sunset, you see people wading across the shallow blue lagoon, fishing. Fish and the ubiquitous coconut are a staple of the diet – the only things that don’t need to be imported. And no fast food either, no Mc Donalds, Burger King, or Kentucky fried chicken here. But not sure it’s too good a diet to be on, whilst it sounds healthy, generally the Cook Islanders are quite large – perhaps that’s just contentment and the slow pace of life. It struck me as I took a long walk down the beach today that this must be the only “tourist” spot in the world where there are no bars, restaurants or hawkers of t-shirts and pineapples anywhere on the beach, a pleasant change when you want peace and quiet but less welcome when you fancy a sunset cocktail at 6pm! The round the island bus runs like clockwork, and is mainly full of tourists, but that’s the only time you see us “en masse”. And the bus driver is really friendly, stopping wherever you want to be dropped off. The main “town” (actually the town, there is only the one) is the smallest I’ve ever seen in any of these islands, just a few shops, a petrol station and the usual small government buildings. The Cook Islands Parliament is a long, low wooden structure, and whilst it’s based on the Westminster system (they send an MP to New Zealand), it’s as far away from Big Ben as you can get. Today, Saturday, is market day, so there I was on the 8.30am bus into town. The market was a mix of Abbeville Road Farmer’s Market and the Button Street Car Boot sale – fresh produce mixed with little stalls selling local arts and crafts. The shopping here is no more promising than it has been anywhere else so far, and I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that I resisted the temptation to buy a grass skirt and a bra made of 2 halves of a coconut on a bit of string! But I was tempted by the outfit in the attached photo – a grass skirt ensemble made from recycled bin bags, but yellow just isn’t my colour…. At the heart of the market was a bandstand, just like the one on Clapham Common, but instead of kids running around it, it was being put to use with a band; a group of Rarotongan’s playing musical instruments, singing and dancing. The swaying rhythms of the dance were so graceful, and the audience was mainly made up of local people in a break from market shopping, with just a sprinkling of tourists – you get the feeling that it is a scene that has been played every Saturday morning for decades.
Am thinking about Ant and Derek – tonight is the night that they camp on the Antarctic ice on a day when the sun doesn’t go down.