It’s hard to find time to write and it’s even harder to get
pics uploaded to the blog. I’m writing this on Saturday from Atiu (Achew). Over
my right shoulder, a turquoise pool beckons, but I am happy here on the patio
of our small cabana reading, watching the lizard who lives in the berry tree
next to the deck, listening to the surf from afar, the chatter of birds, the
cooing of a mother hen. It’s all very surreal. This is quiet writ large. More
on Atiu later.
On Thursday last week we chartered a Hobie Cat with Aitutaki
Sailing for an afternoon on the water. The Captain picked us up in the morning
so we could spend part of the day on the east side beaches, and have lunch before
going out. Finally found Kura café, where the coffee is great, and they have gf
bread. We ordered swordfish tapas with mango papaya salsa, and a side of bread
to sop up the extra herbed butter, all to go. We swam, then ate on the beach, butter
dribbling off our chins, licking our fingers, right to the last greasy drop. It
was a perfect afternoon for sailing and snorkeling. Ted took us out at about
130, and as we tacked our way to the reef for snorkeling, we learned a little
more about motus (lava) and atolls (coral) and the history of the island and
the Cooks overall. Snorkeling was fantastic: there was more variety in the coral,
and more colour, and abundant and varied fish. Sailing back was lots of fun,
with the afternoon winds picking up, and except for a bit of a bang on the head
on a tack (I have a black eye today) we just cruised along. Thursday night was
island night at the hotel, with a buffet of local cuisine, which is great to discover,
and of course traditional dancing. Lots of fun, island drinks and wine, and an
early get up to catch our plane to Atiu.
Flying around from one island to another is pretty relaxed
here. Our hotel pick up was at 830 for a 910 flight! It’s true. You walk straight in and to the counter (no lineups),
place your bags on a scale, take your boarding pass (it looks like a cash
receipt from a gas bar), and within minutes you are walking across the tarmac
to board a 14-seater. The captain closes the door, reminds you to buckle up,
and climbs into his seat to take off. Done. There’s no security, no customs, no
identification, nothing. There’s also no coffee, no water, no peanuts, no
safety demonstration. In 45 minutes we were on Rarotonga; checked in for our
Atiu flight, grabbed a coffee, boarded, and were here in another 45 minutes.
Easy peesy.
Off to the caves. Need to get dressed. No, I’m not dressed.
Well I’m sort of dressed.
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