How Great Thou Art (Cook Islands)

Well, my dedicated reader I'll bet you weren't expecting a hymn for the title of any of my blog posts. Neither was I actually, Jayne suggested it. I was going for something more esoteric like Under the Milkyway by The Church. Why, you ask? Well, all will soon be apparent. Read on McDuff.

And as day 4 melts towards dinner dear reader we have developed a pattern, as I suspected we would. It became apparent this morning as we organised events for tomorrow.

The air conditioning was deployed last night to aid sleep and worked quite effectively until the wedding guests began their stagger towards their rooms at top volume. The cooler conditions encouraged sleeping a little later and put some pressure on us being ready for the day's activity. Today was church. Yep, you read correctly. It was even the activity recommended by the resort. It is Sunday, so why not?

The chicken superhighway

I am really going to miss my breakfast of fresh tropical fruit. Their egg fixation, not so much. There are chickens everywhere, did I mention that before? Free range, everywhere you look. I refer to the hedge outside the dining room as the chicken super highway. You can't see them but you can hear them clucking their way to and fro most times of the day. The cooked breakfast is an array of egg dishes, bacon is listed as a side dish. Today's dish: omelette and sausage. I'll pass.

Time for a dust bath

Bathing the kids

The church is hiding behind the poinciana tree

The target church in question is about a 15-20 minute walk back towards town. It's not the Catholic church, the Catholic church and the Cathedral are way too far to access on foot and it would be a risk to rely on the island bus service - if you want to get there on time. So we walked. The church is a big, stone, whitewashed building. It is traditional in shape with a high ceiling section down the middle and two lower ceilinged wings on either side. The central ceiling is pressed metal.

Due to the omnipotent heat, the doors were open front and back, and the windows were also open. There was very limited use of stained glass, some of which had been replaced by painted wood courtesy of a visiting cyclone. Every pillar in the church was adorned by electric fans spinning at full tilt.

This is the type of flower used to make a lei

It identified itself as a Christian community church - whatever that means. There were none of the statues that you might see in a Catholic or Anglican church. Aside from the flowers, the only decoration was a single wooden cross behind the very significantly raised pulpit, behind which the pastor disappeared when he sat down. But, there were flowers, everywhere, on heads, behind ears, across the front of the pulpit. I counted 12 flower decorations, but there could have been more.

The service was conducted in the local language, Cook Island Maori, with occasional translations in English. It commenced at 10am-ish and concluded at 11:15 - we scored a 15 minute early mark. Why would the resort recommend we attend church? Maybe they were trying to save my heathen soul. Actually, no, it was to hear the singing, which was truly incredible. The harmonies, sung in part, all wonderful. However, for us this was nothing so special - we have been involved in two parishes where there was a significant islander population and they often treated the congregation to such a spectacle. We did have one surprise though, part of the way through the service the pastor asked all visitors to stand up. He then explained the importance of singing to the community and told us we would have to sing then for them. It was so Glee-like, a sing-off to decide the champion. We were toast. Anyway, at least they chose an old hymn in a reasonable key, How Great Thou Art. I'm glad they hadn't told me about it before, otherwise I may not have gone. It was pretty cool.

Morning activity over, we declined the offer of morning tea and commenced our walk back to the resort. Not five minutes down the road, a car stopped and offered us a lift. The people are just so generous. We thanked our benefactor but declared we would prefer to walk - you get to see more of the country side that way.

Picture postcard shots everywhere you look

Then it was time for the lagoon. This time we grabbed a snorkel and goggles and splashed around for an hour or so, disturbing the fish and sea slugs. There were more fish than I thought and another swimmer suggested a better spot to snorkel. Apparently there is more coral, plenty of fish and the water is clearer. That will be for tomorrow, I don't want to overdo the sun.

Cocktail time. Jayne is in a rut - she had another Piña Colada. I had a Mango Colada and ordered some bar food while we dried off and watched the local dogs and chickens and children. Yes, dear reader, it may well be an over 18s resort, but they don't own the beach (sadly). It is a great spot for families and they utilise it every day. Post cocktails it was time for the usual desalination in the pool before we retire for an afternoon of reading and blogging. Who knows, I may depart from protocol and pop out with the camera.

Didn't happen; I grabbed a couple of shots from the balcony of the local dogs. They are all owned, but are free range like the chickens and can turn up anywhere. They like the resort. There is company, water is left out for them and they can swim. Or snooze.

Come and play with me!

Shhh! I'm tired.

The rest of the day proceeded as usual. Dinner, Peter Morgan was playing again tonight and the wedding guests were here for dinner looking far more demure than when we last heard them. It is always interesting to watch guests at such a function. Especially the awkward teen boy who is of no interest to the girls his age - they are after an older catch, but he is not interested in hanging with the younger children. Mum to the rescue to try and kick start the conversation with the girls. I'm not sure how it finished up for him because we retired for the evening. And unlike the previous night dear reader, we didn't hear from them again. The end.

Until tomorrow