Bus stop (Rarotonga)

Pancakes, syrup and fresh fruit.

Today's title will become obvious my curious reader, but it is a nod back to the Mersey bands and the great Hollies. Curiously Herman's Hermits also did a version which is a lovey link to our resident hermit crab, Herman.

The day began as the others had, sleeping late and sleep-walking down to breakfast. The excitement for me my discerning reader is what they will do with the eggs. We've had quiche, scrambled eggs and an omelette.  Today's surprise was ... wait for it ... pancakes! Winner! And beautifully presented they were too.  Pancakes, fresh fruit and tea. A great way to commence the day.

The weather was as it has been since we arrived. Around 27°, breezy with cloud moving so quickly that it is generally sunny. And humid. Let's not forget the humidity. The sort of humidity that makes think you need another shower after you exert yourself by putting on your shoes. Not that it is such an issue because the lagoon and the sea breeze are a few steps or an open window away.

Today's activity, according to the resort, is cocktails. I think we can manage that one without too much trouble. It is a tad early though and we have a few things we need to get sorted for the remainder of the week. We set out for one of the local stores to buy our daily 3 litre bottle of water and check out which nights the Night Markets operate. We have a cultural experience tonight, will go to the  Night Markets for dinner tomorrow, after the cocktail party and then our final night here is the Polynesian night. All sorted. Oh, and a massage to kill time before we leave for the airport on Thursday.

The snorkelling we did yesterday was just a test case and following the recommendation from another holiday maker, today was going to be more serious. We swapped the reef shoes for fins and headed off to the point of the island to search for the coral outcrops. It took about 30 minutes to negotiate our way there, stopping to adjust goggles and talk about what we were seeing underwater. The number and variety of sea cucumber is amazing. There were also more small reef fish than I noticed previously. But this was nothing compared to variety of sea life that lived in and around the giant coral outcrops. the coral looked like massive pumpkins and there were fish everywhere. Small reef fish, larger fish that would have looked good on my plate, star fish, urchins and a particularly aggressive fish that we would call a leather jacket. A couple of them had a go at me for invading their territory, one swiped past my board shorts, but the bravest one actually bit Jayne on the finger as she trailed her hand behind her. When she turned to see what had happened, he was floating nearby, mouth open, daring her to fight.

We snorkelled to the far end and then out toward the reef

We spent almost an hour and a half snorkelling various parts of the lagoon. We paused on the island for 5 minutes on the return swim to de-wrinkle our fingers. Nearby there were a number of girls in bikinis. White and yellow are always my favourite because they are see through when wet. The other girls were wearing iridescent orange. I was bemused by the fawning boys with the cameras and poses the girls were doing until I realised it was a photo shoot. Excitement over, it was time to head for the other shore and have a swim in the pool to de-sand.

Cheers Amie, this one's for you

That done it was time for lunch and cocktails. Once again Jayne opted for a Piña Colada. However, ever the adventurer, I went for Amie's Mistake. I'm not sure if the mistake was making the cocktail or drinking too many of them, but this is the first cocktail I have had that tasted remotely alcoholic. Believe me, it tasted alcoholic.

Balcony time. The breeze is lovely as we sit and watch the passing parade below and while away the hours until tonight's cultural experience. Relaxing holidays are the best, but despite our best efforts and copious amounts of sunscreen, the sun is taking its toll and these afternoon hours spent in the shade are an absolute necessity. It's also allowing me to catch up on some reading my avid reader. I've made it back to the 1968 Miles Franklin Award winner.

Soon enough it was time to walk down the driveway to the bus stop (you see the link now) and wait in any available shade, or anywhere there was a breeze, for our pick-up to attend the Highland Paradise Cultural Centre Ka'ara Island Night. It was still very warm and there wasn't much shade or breeze and we had a 15 minute window to wait for the ride. He was 10 minutes outside of that, not bad for island time. While we waiting a lady turned up to catch the bus into town. The bus is supposed to arrive at quarter past the hour, today it rolled past at 5:16 and despite the fact that we were standing at the bus stop, it did not slow in its progress and sailed straight past us. The lady in question arrived at 5:20 and was very surprised when we told her that she had missed the bus. She went off in search of alternative transport home rather than wait for the next bus.

Safely inside our bus, the air con was blasting away at temperatures of cold I'd not experienced since Malaysia. It was, however, most welcome. We had a few more guests to pick up along the way and then Willy, our driver, talked to us about the island and the people and crops grown in the area as a taster for what was to come.

The view from Highland paradise

It was an interesting and an enjoyable night. There was cultural history and a short walk around the property, including a symbolic offering ceremony in the Marae, the meeting ground for the tribe's government. This was followed by dinner and then a show that traced the history of the people to the present time. The drumming and the dancing was absolutely amazing and it was an excellent way to convey the story. Danny, the MC and a descendant of the King from the early days was a good host and interspersed the history lesson with cheesy jokes. There was also the ritual humiliation of a few guests who were chosen as the leader of different groups, but it was all in good fun (because I was safely seated at my table - wrong demographic anyway, too old and grey).

The meal was interesting. It was buffet style and probably contained food most people would recognise, but there was a twist. The chicken and pork was cooked in the traditional underground oven and there were other traditional dishes as well, taro leaves in coconut milk and raw fish for instance. It was tasty and very filling.

The Highland Cultural Centre is apparently charged with providing these experiences to all the island school students to ensure that their culture is keep alive for all. It is a pity that Australians can't/don't/won't recognise indigenous culture in the same positive way in Australia, but I assume that is part of our cultural background and the fact that the invaders stayed in big numbers and colonised the country.

We were deposited back at our door some time after 10pm, the last stop on our bus group.  We had offered for Willy to drop us at the roadside to walk back to the resort but he insisted on taking us to the reception door.

Warning: Political statement following: What I struggled with throughout the night was the role the London Missionary Society (LMS) played in the destruction of the culture that existed before they arrived with their prudish, puritanical concepts of sexuality and the superiority of their god. Seriously, a christian invisible god is better than an islander invisible god? Of course, I've long believed that many of the current world problems can be traced back to England. Let's think Australia still holding onto the monarchy and the near destruction of our indigenous culture; Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales speak for themselves; Israel; parts of Africa, India, Sri Lanka; need I continue? ... colonialism and its white-man superiority supported by christianity has much to answer for in today's world.

Fire-twirlers practising their art across the lagoon

Until tomorrow, when I may have calmed down a little

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

Escape or The Piña Colada Song (Cook Islands)

Sing with me: if you like Piña Colada and getting caught in the rain

Thank you for your patience dear reader. Internet access is not free in the Cook Islands and is not available everywhere. We were deciding what package to purchase when the delightfully helpful lady at reception informed us of a promotion. Buy three cocktails and you are given the equivalent of a week's internet, free. Clearly, that was an offer too attractive to bypass and also partially explains why there was no post yesterday. It also explains the title. Jayne had her first, but definitely not her last, Piña Colada. No need to mansplain today's title.

However, I digress. The last post concluded with us at the airport, yet to board the plane. We finished our pre-holiday champagne and wandered into a current of people that swept us towards our gate. It was quite crowded until the neighbouring area cleared. Then the announcement I knew was coming. "Flight delayed due to operational issues". Anyone who knows my travel history with work will be laughing now. Of course the delay was expected, I can count on one hand the number of times my planes were on time in 2018. We were pushed back, about an hour late.

The plane we finally boarded, was staffed by Air New Zealand, but bore the colours of Singapore Airlines - without the logo. Apparently there were maintenance issues with our original plane. Sadly, the ratio of children to adults was too high and the ratio of screaming children to quiet children even higher. Thank God for noise cancelling headphones, but even they struggled at times.

Flight time is 6 hours and was relatively uneventful. I watched two more movies that I would never pay to see. Had some dodgy food and a couple glasses of wine and tried unsuccessfully to sleep. Our first day in Rarotonga would be interesting, if not dreamy.

Immigration was an interesting experience. The locals and Business class passengers had their own dedicated line. The rest of us riff-raff lined up in the sheep run and slowly shuffled our way toward the front of the queue. It moved imperceptibly, with some people seemingly standing at the same counter forever. Once through we were greeted by our transport and I scored my first lei (but not last) on the island. It was made from flowers similar to that of the gardenia and the perfume was incredibly sweet.

There were other passengers travelling with us who were still drifting towards the immigration counter. This gave us the opportunity to watch the passing parade and make some observations about Raro. WHS as an industry has yet to arrive. Almost no-one, but tourists, wear helmets on motorbikes/scooters, seatbelts in cars are also superfluous. It is still cool, 60s style, to travel in the back of the ute, unrestrained. Thongs or flip flops are the preferred footwear - at work as well. The scene that left me amazed was the young guy in the back of the work ute. They had run a series of pieces of timber from the top roof bar through the table and over the tray at the back of the ute. This was tied off in one place, the middle of the tray. There was no flag signalling the end of the timber. Hmmm, not very secure, you're thinking. Incorrect. The apprentice was perched astride the cargo on top of the roof bar to ensure the wind didn't get underneath the load and lift it as they drove. His work flip flops clearly visible as they drove away.

About 30 minutes later we arrived at Muri Beachclub Resort (over 18s only). What to say? The room, the pool, the view, the lagoon? I'll let the pictures do the talking.

The lagoon from the balcony

The island across the lagoon

The view from bed

I'm sure we will develop a routine in time but today is about getting settled and having a look around. And dodging the rain showers that suddenly appear from nowhere and disappear just as quickly. Unpacked, we thought we'd walk the length of the lagoon towards the reef. This passes you by the edge of many other resorts, each of which is clinging to the shore in the shade of coconut palms. The water is warm and laps our feet to land's end and back again. The breeze is constant and much appreciated. Back at the resort it was time for a swim in the lagoon.

The current was moving very swiftly and easily took your feet out from under you and swept you away. Some people were getting into the water allowing the current to take them downstream and then having travelled far enough, would get out and walk back to where they got in and repeat. One woman we watched did this for hours on end. In fact her floating transcended our impromptu nap. Following our swim, we repaired to the pool to rinse the salt and sand away. Swimming pools at an adults  only resort are such calm, peaceful places. We had the pool to ourselves.

Herman the hermit crab

And with that we suddenly both very tired and broke one of our travel rules: no naps on the first day in a new time zone. Neither of us slept on the plane and had been awake for over 24 hours. Nap time. Awakening much refreshed, we went back downstairs to the bar overlooking the lagoon and began the difficult work of acquiring free internet access. While we were burning the hours, not the calories, we made a friend. A very determined hermit crab emerged from the shrubbery and made his way across the sand towards the water. The timber platform proved no challenge as he hauled himself up one side and gently let himself down the other.

Jayne suggested I should assist Herman  but I declined to interfere with nature and besides, he provided entertainment while we drank our cocktail of the day - a mango concoction, made by Ti the Fijian bar tender, who chatted about all the Campbells he had come across in life, both here and in Fiji.  More importantly, he made really good cocktails at happy hour prices which qualified us for the internet in our room - winners all around!  Luckily, Herman's slow progress to safety meant there was time for a second cocktail - the aforementioned Piña Colada for Jayne and a chilled Rosé for me.

After the pre-dinner drinks, it was time to go for dinner. Tonight's menu was entitled, "Pig and Prawn" with a selection of 2 sized rib dishes and barbecued prawns cooked with a choice of four sauces, accompanied by a diverse selection of side dishes.  It was a day of firsts - Jayne's first Piña Colada and I was coerced into trying ribs for the first time.  Not sure I see what all the fuss is about - I prefer a rare steak any day. The evening was very pleasant, accompanied by live entertainment provided by a self-accompanied male singer, Peter Morgan, whose repertoire was reminiscent in style of Stylus, one of the most underrated bands in Australian music history (IMHO).  Looking forward to hearing him perform again.

Day One on Raro concluded with French champagne on the balcony, Stylus playing on the computer in the background and then sleep.

Until tomorrow