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British Mensa Travel Special Interest Group |
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String
of pearls 'Like a string of pearls', a group of fifteen islands lies quietly in the South Pacific. Said to be Polynesia's best kept secret, the beautiful Cook Islands are largely unspoiled by tourism, and the most southerly, Rarotonga (Raro meaning 'down' and tonga 'south'), often called 'the Jewel of the Pacific', is their gateway. Its jagged peaks and deep valleys sweep down to deserted white beaches and an aquamarine lagoon, leaving you in no doubt that you have found paradise. The islands were discovered by Lt William Bligh just after leaving Tahiti in 1789 and less than three weeks before his crew mutinied on the Bounty. But more than 700 years earlier, Cook Islanders had ventured out across the Pacific in search of new land and discovered New Zealand. They are thought to be the first inhabitants and ancestors of the Maori race. Cook Islanders are warm, friendly, religious people who love to greet visitors with a garland of flowers. The relaxed atmosphere is evident from the moment of arrival and the feeling that we had stepped back in time was perhaps accentuated by the fact that we arrived the day before we left Auckland. In fact, time seems to have little importance here. Rarotonga is almost circular, with one main road which runs around the coast. Two buses operate, one in each direction, taking about an hour to complete the circuit. Just flag them down. There are no high-rise hotels, but several self-contained hotel resorts are dotted along the coast, not seemingly affecting life on the island which continues in its normal way. We stayed at the Crown Beach Resort, on the west coast, 10 minutes from the tiny capital Avarua, in a thatched villa on the beachfront. After bathing in the lagoon (be sure to wear rubber reef shoes), relaxing on the veranda with the surf breaking gently over the reef, it seemed the sunset was just for us. We took a round-the-island tour, the best way of seeing the island and discovering where the best restaurants are when time is limited. Inside the main road is an inner road extending around half the island and this is where the few houses are situated. Most of them have gravestones in the garden - it is usual to bury one's dead beside the house. We were told jokingly that if we spotted a gravestone at the far end of the garden, that's the mother-in-law. Between the houses are fields growing papaya, bananas, coconut, enough to sustain the islands but not for export. Coconuts litter the ground like conkers under a chestnut tree. It isn't possible to buy land here - it is passed on from generation to generation and can only be inherited by an islander and through blood descent, not marriage. It can, however, be leased for up to 60 years. This keeps the island for the islanders. Some plots have just the foundations of a house. This is because where a plot of land has been inherited, it must be developed within seven years or it will revert through the previous owner to the next eligible kin. If the owner can't afford to build, he/she will put in the foundations of a house, then go to New Zealand for a few years to earn enough money to finish building. There is only one planning law - build what you like, whatever you can afford, but it must not exceed the height of the tallest coconut palm on your land. One family built a three-storey house which exceeded this height. They were instructed to remove the top storey. However, they prevaricated for as long as they could and, meanwhile, poured copious amounts of fertilizer on the tallest tree. Before long, the tree was taller than the house and everyone was happy! Half way up the mountain is a marae, or sacred site, so old that no-one on the island knows its age - it is a site of the ancients. No outsider may enter. Beside it, though, is a small archway where weddings take place, and visitors can pose for photographs. To really get away from it all, take a trip to the tiny atoll of Aitutaki. Air Rarotonga regularly flies a SAAB 340 twin propeller aircraft between the islands. This tiny plane has 11 rows of three seats and one stewardess who serves tea, coffee or water from a coffee machine at the front. The air terminal at Rarotonga is small; chickens run in and out of the departure lounge, most of which is outside and features park benches beneath palm-roofed shelters with lush grass underfoot. Just the other side of a five foot hedge is the runway. Our boarding passes are like ATM receipts, the check in official takes half a dozen steps from the check in desk and doubles as gate official. He re-examines the ATM receipts he just gave us. "OK, let's go," he says as he opens the gate onto the runway. Aitutaki terminal is even smaller - little more than a shelter beside the airfield which the Americans built during World War II. A Polynesian singer performs on a stand in the centre of the arrival area. The check in desk has scales like the ones in Boots and the bags are pushed through a plastic curtain to the tarmac outside, where they can be loaded onto a truck. A simple gate leads onto the airfield. The system works. If you have enough money you can stay on Aitutaki. The main 'town', Arutanga, which is no more than a collection of a few wooden houses, hosts a store, a welcome stop if you've had no breakfast. Beside the beach a wooden vaka waits, a flat-bottomed catamaran that's been fitted out to look like a Polynesian ceremonial vessel. Board this to sail out onto the lagoon and snorkel on the reef. The reef surrounding Aitutaki and its sub-atolls has created a lagoon of pure turquoise in varying shades. If you snorkel you will see giant clam, sea slug, trigger fish and rainbow fish. The boat moors at One Foot Island for a two-hour stay. Shipwrecked was filmed here and Survivor elsewhere on Aitutaki. The boat crew will entertain you with Polynesian music while you enjoy a tuna BBQ on board, with wonderful salads of bread fruit (both fresh and barbecued), barbequed banana, papaya and star fruit. The call to lunch is announced by a member of the crew blowing a conch horn. The horn doubles as a call for departure. If you tire of the sun, sand and snorkelling, watch the hermit crabs scuttling through the undergrowth or visit the Post Office, the only structure on the island. This must be one of the most remote in the world and doubles as a bar. The postmaster/landlord keeps his roles strictly separate. Buy a postcard and have it stamped with the One Foot postmark. Take your passport for a One Foot Island immigration stamp - I think we can forgive them a little commercialism, it's fun. Then, when the conch blows, return to the boat and sail back across the lagoon in the late afternoon sun. Not to be missed on Rarotonga is Island Night, with Polynesian singing and dancing. The stars of the show were 'The Little Darlings', both boys and girls, some as young as five, who danced very professionally with the most enormous smiles on their faces. The smiles were even bigger when they were rewarded with ice cream. Our stay was too short; on our last afternoon we were given a demonstration on how to choose, open and prepare a coconut by smashing it against a sharpened stake in the ground, then cracking the shell with a machete. We learned that younger coconuts have a kind of sweet marshmallow inside, which is a popular baby food on the island. Our host even climbed the palm to pick the coconut! The islanders are lovely people. Few places make it onto my 'must-go-back' list, but this does. Why are the beautiful Cook Islands my favourite? Well, if you haven't worked that out already, I think I'll just keep them as my secret. First published in VISA 81 (Oct 2008) |