Leaving The Cooks

Saturday 30 December

I am at last able to get a connection again, and am posting the blogs (from Saturday 16 December) in Tahiti on Sunday 31 December. The time we have spent in the Cook Islands has been very relaxing, doing almost nothing, so the entries are much shorter than those for New Zealand. We would like to wish everyone who is keeping up with our travels a very Happy New Year and hope to see you when we get home – tomorrow we will be able to say “later this year”! I might just add that the sun is shining here, it’s over 30 degrees and the sky is blue as we wait for midnight – still ten hours behind England.

Saturday 30 December

Our last day on this island, and in some ways we will be glad to be traveling on. The hotel, while basic and comfortable, is even more full of children now for New Year, and whereas they tended to be between 0 and 6 for Christmas, they have now progressed to 0 to15, and the pool has become a warfare zone as everyone tries to get a small area to teach young children to swim, play volleyball, or just plain float around in a leisurely manner. It is proving far too small now the resort is full. There are also too few loungers and insufficient shade in the hotel as guests wander around looking for somewhere to lay out where they won’t be fried alive. We have now exhausted the breakfast stakes and become bored with the choice – are we becoming travel “snobs”? Having said all that, we have enjoyed our break here, relaxing in the sun this last week – I am now quite burnt in places from the ocean breezes and beginning to peel – and we have got used to doing nothing once again.

We packed our suitcases as far as possible, keeping out clothes to change into later, and, of course, swimmers, books, puzzles and cards to entertain us during the day – quite a bagful to find space for later. We returned to our spot with large chairs under the shady palm trees, but the sun was scorching today (how different from just a week ago when we experienced all that rain) and soon moved round, so we had to move to another spot. Colin went and sat in the marquee looking out over the bay, while I went kayaking again. In only a short distance from the shore, the breezes strengthened and were whipping the surface of the lagoon into forceful waves, and the current was running strongly across the cove. Keeping the kayak in a straight line, the way you wanted to go, was quite difficult and I kept finding myself being tugged closer and closer to the exposed rocks near the reef – a long way from shore. Fearful of falling in again, I tried to make my back to the beach, but it seemed to be like “stirring porridge” and I felt I was getting nowhere fast. In the waves it was difficult to spot the fish – I saw a few, but nowhere near so many as on other days – I think they were staying at home till the waters calmed a little. I floated further across the lagoon and made another attempt at getting closer to the shore, and with the wind in my face, it was a slow process, but I got there in the end. There were only a few kayaks left on the water by now, so I think everyone was abandoning the almost treacherous conditions.

Returning to Colin, we puzzled for a while in the marquee, with cooling winds blowing through, but then a waitress started to set up tables for a wedding breakfast later in the day, so we had to move once more. This time found a shady spot closer to the restaurant and ordered a couple of beers. We spent the afternoon reading and puzzling, until about 16.30 the activities guys set up the volleyball net, only yards from where we were sitting. Obviously a reminder to us to think about changing. As mentioned yesterday, the Reception has suggested we change in the shower in the loos near the poolside, but when investigating, I found the floor in the ladies area was running with water, through which dirty little feet had padded throughout the day, so by now it was grubby and wet and entirely unsuitable. Instead we knew there were loos on the first floor, so foregoing a shower (I had rinsed myself under the warm water tap on the beach when leaving the lagoon earlier) we changed and returned to the patio area immediately outside the restaurant to play cards until it was time to eat.

Needing to top up on junk food before we left, both of us chose burgers tonight – Colin a Raro burger, with everything from pineapple, fried egg, beetroot and salad inside his bun, with chips of course, while I chose an equally decadent cheese and bacon burger (it was supposed to have onion rings as a garnish, which were missing – but it was such a huge burger I couldn’t have eaten them anyway) again with chips (I seem to have got a bit of a “chips” fetish since coming here, so will have to change that when we travel on).

It was then time to sort out cases ready for the onslaught on the airport – and pay the bill. We had arranged with the hotel manager not to settle our account until just before we left, so we didn’t have to change up any more dollars unnecessarily, although of course we had to hand our key before 10.00 – which caused a bit of consternation in the morning, but worked out fine in the end. The two telephone calls on our bill were equal to a third of the total! – but they were worth every minute and every dollar. Nothing to do then, but sit and wait to be collected – and get bitten by mozzzie-type flies - they were out in force tonight – there are no doors or windows to shut in Reception to keep out any such bugs, so they had a feast on us. (We are still using the “magic” potion from Koh Samui days.)

The bus collected us around 20.15 and when we arrived at the airport, we were amazed at how many others were traveling tonight on our flight – we naively had though it would be a small inter-island hopper style airplane – but it was a large Boeing 737-300 taking people from Auckland via Rarotonga and Tahiti to Los Angeles! Rarotonga airport is a little like Koh Samui, with lots of gardens, trees and small huts – the waiting areas before and after the security checks are lawns with picnic tables covered by thatched roofs. It was a very balmy evening with a bright, three-quarter moon lighting the runway. When the plane landed, it quickly taxied to the “arrivals gate” (which becomes the “departure gate” when everyone has been off-loaded!) where it had to do a 360 degree turn – there was not a lot of room for error, and the man with the red torches was flapping his arms frantically to ensure the wings missed the roof of the building.

All the passengers had to evacuate the plane at both stopover points and take all their hand luggage with them! I think those with young children found this a bind – but we are told it’s for “security”. Here in Rarotonga they were treated to a local musician serenading them as they entered the waiting area, and invited over the PA system to take advantage of the duty free shopping (mostly pearls, booze and ciggys here) – which many of them did. Transit passengers were the first to be allowed back on the plane, but we weren’t far behind, as it was already about 15 minutes behind schedule, and the captain was eager to make up the time before he reached Tahiti – I think they changed crews there.

We were only a few minutes late at Tahiti, which was a re-run of Roratonga – but in French. All the announcements were foreign (we could pick out the odd word from our schoolday French – but they speak very fast and it’s hard to keep up), but we managed to find our way to the minibus, waiting to take us to the hotel – collecting white jasmine and red hibiscus garlands on the way – that smell again – heavenly..

Our hotel was the first stop on the route and most of the passengers alighted here. It appeared far more sophisticated and much more what we were used to, than the Rarotonga Resort, with a posh reception area, ready and waiting to dispatch us to our rooms. We enjoyed a glass of cold pineapple juice – most welcome, as the temperature here was still almost 30 degrees, despite it being nearly 02.00. We were taken to our room by a porter dressed in nothing but a short linen wrap-round “skirt” decorated with braiding round the hem – at about mid-thigh length – he was quite hunky with his bare chest and Polynesian good looks – but very gay!

The room was excellent (thank goodness), fairly large with all the facilities we have come to expect – a proper bathroom with shower, bath, wash basin and loo in one room for a start. Looking out over the balcony, the moonlight was reflected in a long frieze across the sea in front of us, with several tall palm trees along the water’s edge. It looked very romantic – but it was too late to muse on that. No time to unpack more than washbags before we climbed into bed, feeling quite exhausted. We have no food booked at this hotel, apart from our “special dinner” tomorrow evening, so we do not have to be up early to catch breakfast – I made sure Colin did not set the alarm clock.

Another Visit To The Post Office

Friday 29 December

We were woken this morning by the phone ringing – it could only be Juz – to let us know that she had told Dave about the planned trip to Las Vegas for his 50th birthday (although not all the details) – he was apparently making plans to take her away in the next week or so to Bali – at least he now has a few weeks to look forward to it.

Breakfast was a pressure meal – at least for the staff. When we arrived there was no cold water in the jug, no hot water in the thermos (for teas and coffees), no croissants and the fruit was running low. To add to the chaos the toast machine (it’s another of those machines where you have to put the bread round three or four times to get a slight tan) was moving at “snail pace” and the queue was growing by the minute. The staff just didn’t seem to be able to cope now the hotel was full. Enquiring about the lack of croissants I was told that there would be more soon (island time soon?), and after twenty minutes or so Colin spied a waitress loading the tray with something. By the time I arrived – a minute to walk down the restaurant (?) – all the croissants had been claimed. So, silly me, I asked again if there was going to be more, as there seemed to be many of us still searching. The waitress said she would look into it. I returned to the table and my chamomile tea – Colin by this time was in the long line waiting for toast. Suddenly the waitress appears by my arm and plonks (not quite slams) a large white plate with four croissants in front of me and marches off before I even have time to mutter a “thank you”. They were still hot, so I chose one and took the others back to the serving area, where they were immediately pounced on by three other lucky souls – it was like fish feeding time. (I had obviously had the nerve to suggest that all was not perfect and these people are never happy when that happens.) I did enjoy it, but it was not the most relaxing start to the day.

Last night we decided that we would to go to town again this morning, to ring Juz – but she beat us to it – as well as to post another set of the paperwork back home. We phoned the parents instead and caught up briefly with their news in the six minutes allowed on our last phone card. By the time we got inside the post office it was crowded – all the computers (five – as one was broken) were in use and there was a queue at the counter – was Friday pension day?! Eventually it was our turn we purchased a padded envelope into which we loaded the contents of our carrier bag, filled out the necessary forms. Question: contents? – paperwork. Question: How much? – hundreds of receipts, brochures and little bits of paper that you collect on your way round the world – as you do. Question: what’s it worth? – well zero to everyone else. The man at the desk seemed surprised we were sending a worthless parcel half way round the world at a cost of about 6 GBP (2.2 kgs) – surface mail of course. But it hopefully saves us a few dollars at the airport. We sent a couple of emails to the family with good wishes for New Year, before having a final wander round the shops – the Cook Islands definitely wont be staying in our memories for great shopping.

We decided to celebrate our last day here by having lunch in town – something different from hotel food – and found the only Indian restaurant on the island. Having not had a curry since Surfers Paradise, and still missing Adolf’s delights from Koh Samui, we ventured inside, and collected menus before choosing a seat at one of the picnic benches in the front “garden”. We opted for fairly ordinary selections – chicken saag and chicken korma which both came with rice or a naan (we could share these), but you could also choose how hot you wanted the dishes (I have never heard of a hot chicken korma, but the waiter said they just added chillis!) He also offered us two of his last twelve “Kingfisher” beers – once they have gone, he doesn’t know when the next shipment will arrive! Very privileged. The meal was scrummy - I had chosen to have mine medium to hot – didn’t want to chance ‘hot’ as it might have been ‘vindaloo’ strength – but it was just right – spicy with a bit of hot after taste - it definitely made a change from the bland food we have been eating for the last six weeks or so. We just had time to wander along the sea front, staring out into the Pacific Ocean, realizing there was nothing between here and the Antarctic – just miles and miles of blue rolling sea – before returning to Cooks Point to catch the 14.00 clockwise bus, having one a last look at the far side of the island. I noticed that most of the single storey houses were built in a “village hall” style, just sub-divided into rooms inside. They were mainly made of wood with louvre windows throughout, although some of the very new ones were being built of brick with double glazed pvc panels – so the construction business here must be moving forward. Most of the properties had small cemeteries like we had seen before, but many were now decorated with shell “necklaces” and still more flowers. Several of the houses had small produce stalls at the gate, with small amounts of coconuts, paw paws, tomatoes and vegetables. Lots of trees were coming into blossom – pink and white petals unfolding in the sun – today was another of those perfect blue sky days on the south side of the island.

We arrived back at the hotel and sorted our cases, ready for our 10.00 eviction from our room tomorrow (not a lot of time to pack in the morning), have afternoon tea and blog. They do not offer a complimentary room for those leaving later in the day unless you pay for an extra day’s stay. As we have already paid for a day that we hardly used when we arrived, we felt we didn’t want to pay for another full day for just a few hours. Their alternative suggestion was that we use the shower and toilets near the pool!

We played cards and finished our remaining bottle of wine before changing for dinner – in fact we forgot about yet another Manager’s Cocktail Party and more lethal green brew – the memory is obviously slowing down ‘big time’. There have been two mynah birds who visit us each time we sit on our balcony – chirping away noisily – and who often come and have a peek in the room as well to see what we are up to when we open the doors. They were introduced to the islands to destroy the coconut weevil that attacks the fruit, and have been very successful here. They were also introduced in Thailand, but I don’t think the experiment was so successful there, as they still have the weevils.

Having decided we only needed a snack to eat, I chose porterhouse steak and chips!!!! While Colin, keeping to the concept that we had already eaten a main meal, chose a starter portion of calamari (which turned out to be a huge portion of battered rings and sweet chilli sauce) and banana fritters with ice cream. We will need to do some exercise tomorrow to work off all the extra calories. The film starting as we returned to the room was “The Horse Whisperer” – a favourite of mine – but it’s nearly three hours long, and would not have finished until nearly 01.00. We have planned to get up early tomorrow - Colin had set the alarm for 07.30 - to ensure we had time to finish our packing - so I decided to read my book instead.

Catching Up

Thursday 28 December

This morning was “chores time” –not cooking, cleaning, ironing (we have learnt to live with un-ironed Tshirts) or shopping – we needed to get our washing done before traveling on to Tahiti, mend my kagool, find the alarm clock (mysteriously missing), and sort the accumulated paperwork to send home – more than enough tasks for one day.

When speaking about doing laundry to some other guests at breakfast, they explained there was a problem with the dryer in our block, but we still collected the necessary tokens – NZ$5 for each machine plus another dollar for powder (not the cheapest washing session we will have had). When we arrived at the laundry room, we found the washing machine was in use and had to navigate around the other blocks to find another, perhaps with a working drier. We had quite a large load to be washed and the machine was stacked to the top, but seemed to function fine when operated – like all of Australia and New Zealand they use the old top loader automatics.

While waiting for the cycle to finish, our next job was to mend my kagool – the sleeve seam needed gluing back together. We have heard there has been torrential rain and flooding in Peru and we arrive there in another couple of weeks – let’s hope all those cyclones have disappeared by then, or we may need more than our waterproofs. This was an artistic job with a brush and tube of glue (with that great glue sniffers smell).

Then we sorted all the paperwork we have collected since our last posting home in Melbourne – amounting to a carrier bag full – ready for another visit to the post office tomorrow – and then searched my suitcase for the alarm clock – for some reason it got packed in my bags in Christchurch (not in Colin’s as usual) and has not been seen since – but was eventually found lurking in the spare rucksack in the bottom of my case. By now the washing cycle was complete, just the drying needed – and the driers in this block worked fine thank goodness. So we sat on the balcony and played a couple of hands of cards to pass the time.

It was therefore nearly midday and the sun shining, by the time we headed for the kayaks to relieve the boredom of our morning. The water was clear and warm as we paddled around the lagoon for over an hour spying large shoals of fish As I put my fingers in the water (not too far so I would tip out again) lots of yellow angel fish came to the surface to sniff my fingers, but I quickly removed them when the colourful mini sharks came close – they were gnashing two rows of small pointy sharp teeth as they came towards me. We saw two royal blue star fish, stretched out on rocks, looking as if they were sunning themselves as the sun splayed through the shallows. This really is a great relaxation – I wonder if Juz and Dave could get a canoe so we could paddle up and down the river. . . . . .

The tide does go in and out a couple of feet each day, and exposes some of the rocks further out, towards the reefs. At low water people can be seen bending down to collect some precious morsels (crabs, mussels, other shell fish?) from the rock pools. Strangely the water still churns over the reef at this time in large surfing waves, but doesn’t compensate for the tide – perhaps the lagoon is too big, after all it goes all the way round the island.

Once on dry land and after a couple of beers, we retreated to our balcony and much needed shade, to read and puzzle for the rest of the afternoon, with a glass of wine or two. We tried to make our way to dinner in time to catch the sunset. Last night the sky had been a fantastic vista of orange and reds, pinks and purples, greys and lilacs, as the sun set, but we had failed to capture the large orange ball sinking beneath the horizon on the camera. Tonight looked as if it might be a similar performance. But by the time we found a table the sun was half way below the distant sea, so just got half of it – still there’s always tomorrow – and although as the light dimmed tonight was another fantastic show of colours, the overall picture was not as good as yesterday.

We both chose chicken tonight – we asked for the specials, but they were finished, so we ended up with “chicken tropicana” , a chicken breast (I actually think it was that “boring” turkey breast that Polynesians don’t like – it was too large and dense for chicken – but still very tasty) with mango cream wrapped in bacon and filo pastry, served with mash (read “Smash” – or maybe frozen – they don’t seem to have fresh proper potatoes out here) and buttered sweetcorn. We enjoyed our meal in the fading light. The large television near the poolside was showing a re-run of the disasterous Test Match – and the Australian cricket fans were enjoying another opportunity to gloat.

We returned to our room and watched yet another film – this time “Cheaper by the Dozen” with Steve Martin (not normally my choice, but lots of my tastes are changing, perhaps in movies too) which was quite funny in a farcy sort of way – imagine having twelve children in your family. I did try to blog a bit, but couldn’t concentrate on the words, so gave up, and went to bed instead.

When The "Wonder Cards" Are Not So Wonderful

Wednesday 27 December

I expect everything is getting back to normal at home, now all the celebrations are over, and that is the same here – the decorations in the hotel are still up – Christmas trees and blow-up santas – but most people are in real holiday mode now.

After breakfast we decided to go into town once more, to try the phone cards and managed to catch the 09.30 bus. It was almost a repeat of the journey home on Saturday, with the number of people getting on the bus – standing room only again for most of the trip. At Avarau it took time for everyone to get off the bus – people chatting to others as they make their way towards the door, catching up on the latest family news – as they say, “Island time waits for everyone”. We went in search of phones and the internet at the post office. The public phones and the cards all had instructions on how to get connected, but you had to put in so many codes, it took us several goes before we got through, first to Nick, who was out and we had to leave a message, and then to Andy who was at work. But as I suspected the “wonder” card does not allow an hour per call for NZ$10 – more like NZ$2.50 per minute – although it was probably still lots cheaper than our calls from the hotel room. But we had a short chat to Andy and found out all his news and it was great to hear his voice.

On connecting to the internet we were surprised to find we had lots of emails with messages for Christmas and the New Year (thanks to everyone who sent us a message – when we are connected again we will get round to replying) and also found out about the currencies in Tahiti (French Polynesia cents – 95 to the US$ or 198 to the GB Pound) and Easter Island (Chilean Pesos – 534 to the US$ and 1046 to the GB Pound). British currency is strong at the moment, but we are using the US$, as that is the money most easily exchanged in all the South American countries – at the moment our notes are all still in the required pristine condition. Trying to work out the cost of everything in both dollars and pounds is very confusing – we have just got used to the New Zealand dollar at just under four to the pound.

The Cook Islands are named after Captain James Cook (of course), but were first settled by Polynesians around 800 AD, as part of the great Polynesian migration. The islands were declared a British Protectorate in 1888 and three years later came under the control of New Zealand. They were given independence in 1965 but Cook Islanders still retain New Zealand citizenship. The culture here is based around singing and dancing – very fast and frenzied with lots of hip-swinging – with all the participants wearing colourful costumes. There are lots of churches on the islands of all denominations suggesting they are quite religious, but the most prolific churches and primary schools are attached to the Seventh Day Adventist church.

There are fifteen islands in the group, and together they cover an area of 240 sq kms in the Pacific Ocean. Rarotonga is the largest island, but still covers only 67 sq km. There is a lagoon all the way round the island, and the centre is dominated by three main peaks, all covered with dense tropical forest. The road around the coast is 31 kms long – most other roads are unmade and little more than dirt tracks. The total population of the Cook Islands is just under 20,000, but they are very proud people, particularly of their participation in sport around the world – rugby, netball and kayaking being three that they excel at – and have an Olympic Games building in the centre of Avarau, which coordinates their participation at major events. The Parliament is situated just outside the main town – it is a long low wooden building, painted white with net curtains at the windows - that has the appearance of a Boy Scouts hut or Village Hall. The fire station is sited well away from town, but is a new brick building able to house about six fire engines – to date we haven’t seen more than one garaged there yet. This is a really hospitable part of the world, with very friendly and helpful people, but who do not take criticism of their standards or way of life easily. They would be appalled to know that we think they lead a somewhat primitive life style, as they are extremely happy with their “lot” – if only all the world were so.

As the café was full (and the others didn’t seem to have opened yet after the holiday) we made our way back to the hotel on an almost empty bus for refreshments and more blogging – it took me a few hours to read through all those I haven’t posted yet and make a few corrections. By then it was time for wine and a bit of television before dinner. The buffet was back on again tonight as the hotel is full – with Polynesian food, music and dancing. We still couldn’t face buffet so it was back to Captain Andy’s. I chose green lipped mussels – in a coconut and Asian broth, with peppers and onions – with chips and salad – supplies had obviously arrived today to replenish stocks after the Christmas onslaught. Colin had lamb shank with mash and vegetables – we are leaving New Zealand territory soon, so lamb may be scarce. Both meals were good – mine one of the best I have eaten here – but then I am a huge fan of mussels.

Before we returned to the room, we watched the pitiful end of the fourth Test Match, as England woefully lost again. We are in the minority here, but the Australians were exultant at the result. We decided to watch a Michael Douglas / Gwyneth Palrow film – where he tries to get someone else to murder his wife – we missed the credits at the start so didn’t know the title of the film.

Hubble Bubble - The Witches Brew

Tuesday 26 December

Boxing Day

When we drew back the curtains this morning the sky was striped blue and white, with bands of cloud. But these disappeared as we ate our breakfast and it looked like being another hot day so we took ourselves off to the pool. There had been lots of arrivals overnight, (those from Australia and New Zealand would have left home on Boxing Day evening and arrived on Boxing Day morning) and we now had guests on either side of us, - the hotel seems about full (Toku, the activities man was right). We managed to get in touch with Dawn (Colin’s sister) at last and the parents were there too, so spoke to them as well. Just the boys to go now. But there are no public telephones in this part of the island, only in the main town, so will have to take another bus ride tomorrow and try and contact them then – we have these phone cards which are supposed to allow you an hour for NZ$10, (once you reach NZ$10 the rate is capped until you have been on the line for an hour for that one call and then the charges start again) but that seems very cheap to me, so we will see.

By the time we reached the pool all the loungers were taken so we found a couple of the large wooden chairs they use in the restaurant, on a ‘deck’ overlooking the sea, and under some palm trees for shade. The chairs felt a little bit like sitting in Ronnie Corbett’s big chair that he sat on in his programmes to tell a story – but they were comfortable. We read and puzzled for a while before needing to do something a bit more energetic – time for more kayaking. We collected paddles and dragged the large “floats” to the water’s edge. Climbing in is a bit ungainly – some people have legs long enough to straddle the kayak, and therefore can lower themselves more gracefully, but my legs don’t reach! We paddled around for about an hour, searching out all the different kinds of fish we could find – we tracked a canary yellow fish for a while, as it swam in an out of the rocks and coral below, and I spied a star fish on the sea floor, floated past it, but couldn’t find it again when I managed to turn my kayak through 180 degrees. We saw long grey eels slithering through the sands, as well as a plethora of multi-coloured fish like parrot fish, angel fish, and large guppies (?) with an electric blue stripe along their bodies. We haven’t seen any octopus though – there are supposed to be quite a few in these waters, red with long tentacles, but very shy, never venturing too far from the rocks during the day – I expect they live nearer the reef. There is a night time snorkel expedition advertised for tonight, but we thought we would give that a miss (we’re not quite Jacques Cousteau yet) – no one could tell us if you used a torch or a headlight to actually see the fish – you never know what’s lurking in the deep. Maybe next time.

We returned to the seats and rested for a while with a beer (Cooks Island of course). The sun by now was beating down strongly from the perfect blue sky overhead, although there were large bands of cloud on the far side of the reef, that seemed to be swirling in tornado fashion down to the ocean, and also dark swathes of cumulo-nibus had once more encroached the top of the mountains. Colin was getting sunburnt even through his Tshirt, so he returned to the room for a shower. I went back in the sea for a swim with the trevallies and mullet,that never stray far from the shore and then read and puzzled some more. The palm trees by this time offered very little shade so later, as I too was beginning to cook, it seemed a good idea to catch up with the blog, and I went in search of Colin. He was making a cup of tea (very refreshing), but very soon we after progressed to wine and some nibbles (we still have more than two bottles of wine to drink and only three days left – doesn’t sound a lot, but in the heat, red wine isn’t exactly what you are gasping for – but I am sure we will finish it.)

It was Manager’s Cocktail Party time again this evening, and the brew tonight was a dark green concoction (looked a bit like a Witches’ brew in fairytales), made from bacardi, blue curacao and red wine. The first glass tasted quite sharp – the red wine obviously hadn’t had time to breathe – but the second and subsequent glasses became more and more delicious. There were hoards of people at this party – so different from a week ago – and we all crammed into the room near the pool, as it had started to drizzle once more – at least it held off till the evening today. We stayed at the party long after most people had wandered off, chatting to new and old friends, so it was time for dinner when we finally departed.

It looks as if the ‘specials menu’ is repeated each week, and therefore Tuesday night is tuna with caramelized lemon crust and sirloin steak night. As we had the tuna last week, we gave the sirloin a try (we asked for chips with it – but they had run out, due to the excessive demand over Christmas!) The steaks were OK – not the best, but mine was cooked ‘very rare’ as requested. It came with roasted paw paw (which I still don’t like even when cooked) and pumpkin (which although looking similar, had a completely different taste and was delicious) and salads (which included more paw paw tonight – they grow freely on the island, so I suppose they have plenty). As it was still raining hard when we had finished eating, we went back to the room, and watched “Notting Hill” which just happened to be beginning its eighth showing of the day – but it is a bit of fun, and we laughed a lot at the goggles scenes as that is probably what we look like too when we go snorkeling.

Time for bed.

Turkey And Tinsel But No Crackers

Monday 25 December

Christmas Day

We were awakened in the wee small hours (about 01.30) by a telephone call from Juz, in festive mood, calling us before she began to cook her Christmas Dinner (about 11.30 in England). She told us how the fog had delayed the grandparents flying home on Thursday and that after a ‘council of war’ on Friday morning they had decided that traveling by car would be the best alternative. It had been a long journey, but thankfully all had eventually arrived safely back in Selsey. Juz and Dave were spending Christmas in Darlington and it seemed strange not to be with them (we remembered last year, when they surprised us by arriving at Jean and Ray’s on Christmas Day). But she promised to pass on our good wishes to everyone when she spoke to them.

I was really awake after the call, so at 02.00 I am reading my book – usually by bedtime on Christmas Eve night we are quite exhausted with all the preparations for the forthcoming celebrations. Then the air conditioning decided to clank and clatter and keep us awake even longer. So by the time we fell back to sleep it was almost time to wake up.

The weather this morning showed signs of improving – the rain from yesterday had stopped at last and the sun was appearing though breaks in the clouds. Everyone was optimistic at breakfast. We sat round the pool, reading for a while, before I ventured once more into the lagoon in a kayak. I was by myself this time, so knew I mustn’t fall in again. I paddled carefully up and down, and today saw loads of fish swimming around the corals, large and small, in all colours, shapes and sizes. It was great to just stop paddling and watch them swimming around the kayak. By the time I returned to shore, Colin was ready for some action too, so we decided to go snorkeling – we have done this a few times now and felt quite confident in the shallow waters. We saw lots of the usual fish and heaps of slimy slugs (that phrase rings a bell!) – some were coal black with suckers sprouting out the sides, lounging on the rocks, others were grey with black spots like we saw in Thailand, and some were stripy brown lying in the sand – ugh – they are all horrid. The tide was coming in fast, and the current was very strong, so that even with flippers it was sometimes hard to make any progress. But it was fun looking around the sea bed, trying to spot something new.

We sat back round the pool for a while before returning to our room for ‘Christmas lunch’! – rather snack – cheese and wine and crispy bits. A few of the guests here had opted to eat their Christmas dinner at lunch time and were tucking into turkey and trimmings. We sat on the balcony, reading and playing cards to pass a relaxing afternoon in the sun after all our exertions of the morning. We decided to have cocktails– which turned out to be lots of alcohol and little fruit juice – before preparing ourselves for dinner – we felt we should make the effort and dress up a little more tonight – not tiara and ball gown, but posh frock at least.

All the tables in Captain Andy’s had been reserved for those who had chosen to eat their meal this evening (the majority of the guests), so there was no problem with finding a table. But there were no crackers, and no decorations, and the music playing was old Sixties hits, not Christmas tunes. And the sun was still shining as we sat down – later we watched a beautiful orange sunset out over the reef. We didn’t fancy either of the starters (tomato and camembert soup or prawns and paw paw (no more please) in filo), so we went straight to the main course. The turkey had been boned and rolled and we had two thick slices each - they don’t eat the breast meat out here as they think it is tasteless!?!? There was stuffing, roast potatoes and a mixture of vegetables including cauliflower, carrots and beans (but no brussel sprouts with chestnuts or sausage and bacon rolls!), and . . . mango chutney – obviously an alternative to cranberry sauce – which in fact worked quite well. We chose the steamed fruit pudding with tropical fruits and coulis for dessert – the pudding was like a spotted dick overloaded with currants, but was a good substitute for Christmas pudding. And we complimented all of this with a bottle of Shiraz. We felt the hotel had successfully tried to provide traditional Christmas fayre, even if the ambience was not festive.

As we were finishing dinner, more crab races started nearby, and we watched as the little creatures were released and ran in all directions (number eight won again – I wonder if he was the same crab that won the other night) but luckily not escaping to the pool. Then it was time for Karioke! This was not a success, as only the words for the first song appeared on the screen, and then they continued with modern songs that no one knew the words to, so people drifted away, and soon the restaurant area was almost empty – they don’t know what they missed as Colin was up for singing “Love Me Tender” again. It would have been good to have last night’s singer perform again tonight.

Nothing for it but a bit of television and bed. Most people here feel that today is the first day of their summer holidays, and with the great weather we had today (our sun tans are back – they were fading a bit after coaching for a couple of months), they are looking forward to the next few weeks relaxation.

Paddling In The Lagoon

Sunday 24 December

Today is Christmas Eve – how strange to be sitting at breakfast watching the waves foam over the reef, as the sun tries hard to break through the clouds, wearing shorts and Tshirts in December. Most mornings and evenings, we have stopped to look over the verandah by the restaurant into the shallow waters below, to see the hundreds of fish swimming there, waiting to be fed. They are fed special bread, everyday at 13.30, but most days a waitress will bring out bread to feed them after breakfast too. There are trevallies (?) silvery trout like fish, lots of bright pale blue flat fish about the size of a small plaice, white mullet with black fins and yellow tails, long thin almost transparent pipe fish with extended noses, stripy angel fish and a box fish – terracotta colour with blue hoops on his back, he is like a cube with a protruding snout and a long tail which doesn’t seem to move much. But he moves very fast through the water, flapping his little fins on either side. The fish all gather close to shore as people stand on the verandah, waiting to be fed and when food lands in the water, they fight each other to get a bite in the frenzy. It is like feeding the fish in Bangkok, but here the water is so clear it is easy to see the antics of the different fish – some turn and swim on their side, to get closer to the food, others wait on the sea bed just below to catch the crumbs. Feeding time never fails to attract an audience.

A kayaking tour of the lagoon is one of the activities this morning, so we decide to “have a go” – neither of us had canoed since our teenage years – eons ago – so it would be an adventure. We collected our paddles and made our way to the beach at the appointed hour. There were about a dozen other people taking part – including some with very small babies (?) – I don’t think I would take any very young progeny of mine on something so unstable as these kayaks, even if the water is not too deep. The kayaks were either single or double seaters, and we pulled two singles down to the water’s edge and flopped in. Unlike canoes, these are just hollowed out plastic shells, to sit in and paddle.

In no time we were all off, paddling in a group up the lagoon, towards where we had walked the other day – doing our best not to bump into each other. The lagoon is not very deep - only about waist high until you get near the reef – we weren’t going that far out as the huge rollers breaking over the reef make it dangerous. The sea is very clear, and we could watch the rocks and corals pass by underneath, covered with lots of sea anemones and other strange sea plants. We didn’t see many fish, just a few small black ones and a few angel fish. We continued almost to the end of the bay (about where I turned back on my walk the other day). There were some very dark clouds ominously hanging over the peaks, and coming our way. While we were all gathering together for the return journey, I waved at Colin, who was on the far side of the group – and promptly fell overboard – splash! One shoe came off and I let go of the paddle and the kayak was upside down – I remembered something about “Eskimo rolls”, but these craft weren’t big enough to get stuck under. The bottom here was rocky at this point, which made it difficult to stand up as I couldn’t get a foothold. But in the end I managed to catch both shoe and paddle, before trying to get back on board – easier said than done – the waves, now getting a little stronger as the wind gusted with the incoming weather – and kept tipping me back into the water. Eventually, Colin and another lady, wedged my kayak between their two, and I was able to scramble aboard (I don’t suppose it was a very elegant sight), and I began paddling once more. We made our way back to the hotel beach – sitting in the canoe had been uncomfortable for Colin, making his hips quite sore – and we clambered out as the kayak beached on the sand. I had had a great time, and will be sure to do some more paddling (of both kinds) before we leave – although I am quite pleased that the water was relatively shallow – I wouldn’t have wanted to fall out where I couldn’t stand. As I was already wet, I had a quick swim in the pool – which was still colder than the sea - before returning to the room for a cup of tea.

The inclement weather that had been threatening all morning, arrived soon after 14.00 as a steady downpour, so we sat under cover on the balcony, and I blogged (still trying to catch up) and Colin listened to music (he has finished his book on the MP4, and needs to download another, although he did treat himself to a proper book in Christchurch which he still has to start) accompanied by a few glasses of wine. The winds got stronger and the rain came even down more heavily - noisily splashing on the large banana leaves just outside our room - eventually driving us inside, to escape getting wet even at the back of the balcony. And it continued raining (a bit like Thailand’s hourly afternoon downpour) for the rest of the day. There are covered walkways to move around the hotel, but even those were under water in some places when we ventured out later.

Dinner was at Captain Andy’s for everyone in the hotel tonight, so it was a little crowded by the time we arrived. There were large puddles of water in a few places around some of the tables, where the rain had managed to get in (I think it was running in from the paths outside). The waitresses carrying trays of plates, glasses and bottles of wine had to try and hop over small lakes by the time we sat down. There was a stage set up to one side of the restaurant and a singer crooned his way through a repertoire of well-known melodies from the sixties, seventies and eighties while we ate. We had a reversal of menus tonight, in that I chose lamb and Colin chose rib eye steak, both of which were cooked to perfection and tasted good.

On today’s activity programme, there was supposed to be a Christmas film shown at the poolside tonight, but it was still raining madly at the appointed hour, so it was cancelled. We just went back to our room, and watched “Indiana Jones” in black and white and went to bed.

It’s very strange to think that Father Christmas has delivered his presents to most of the world by now, and all day, children have been frantically ripping off wrapping paper in the normal Christmas Day tradition – our own three grandchildren would have been opening their presents while we had dinner tonight - and it’s still not Christmas Day here yet. I don’t enjoy Christmas in the same way Colin does, but even he says he has not missed the commercialism that leads up to the celebrations. Bah humbug!

Just How Many People Can You Fit On A Bus

Saturday 23 December

Another rainy night and overcast morning, so we decided to catch the bus to town again. There is a large market on Fridays and Saturdays, selling local fruits and vegetables, as well as the usual range of market stalls, selling locally made clothes, jewellery and paintings. We made our way back to the post office and checked our emails – and found that I had mis-addressed the one I sent to Nick the other day, only for another Nick Harris to return it to us – that was kind. So we re-sent the one to Nick – hopefully successful this time – and replied to a couple of others. Everyone at home is getting ready for Christmas – big time – we heard that Heathrow Airport has been closed for four days due to fog – hopefully the “oldies” got home from Juz’s without too many delays.

We wandered around Avarua again. It was busy with local people buying their last minute Christmas food and presents – we found a few more supermarkets this time – but many of the other shops were closed – including all but one of the cafės, which was heaving with customers, so we had to resort to a bar for a beer. We did manage to buy some phone cards for the international pay phones here in town, but not sure when we will be able to use them over the holiday period, as the buses are very few or non-existent to get to town. The weather was still overcast and trying to rain all the time – that fine rain in the breeze. We decided not to stay too long in town, as the buses anticlockwise finish at 12.00 noon and there are only hourly buses after that. But we just missed the 13.00 – saw it turning the corner at the other end of the street. We sat in the colonnade and soon others joined us. A couple of young people - who had just met that morning at the airport and were staying at the Youth Hostel on the island – came from England – he from Crystal Palace and she from Hertfordshire. They had both been traveling for some months – drifting from place to place as the whim took them – they had both been to India, Nepal and Tibet, places on our next hit list – they told us to avoid May. They had been shopping for supplies – including sausages for their Christmas Day barbeque!

By the time the bus arrived – they are very old clackety single deckers, holding about 40+ people sitting on seats where the padding is almost non-existent – there were loads of people waiting – we all started piling on the bus and the seats were full in no time, and the thin corridor down the centre was soon also full of people jammed together, as at least another forty people piled on – they were even standing on the bottom step into the bus, hanging on to the handrail – health and safety doesn’t seem to enter anyone’s mind over here (no one wears a crash helmet on the hundreds of mopeds that speed around and we haven’t seen a seat belt yet). I think the driver managed to get everyone waiting on board. The bus cruised slowly along – clockwise – the longest route home for us – and it was some time before someone shouted “stop” and most of the standing passengers had to get off, to let those at the back out. Everyone piled back in again, and this continued all the way to the hotel almost an hour later – lots of people got off at our hotel, so there would have been room for everyone to sit down after that. It was all very friendly, and people loaded with shopping bags, and the elderly, were all helped off the bus.

For the rest of the afternoon, I watched a film on the television, while Colin tried to download more photos to disk, to clear some more space on the Thai Shite – but I don’t think this was entirely successful. So soon after 17.00 we made our way to the bar for “Happy Hour”, where drinks were not “two for the price of one” as is usual, but cocktails were a little cheaper. I think quite a few new people arrived today, as the bar area was nearly full. We were given a banana cocktail and a chocolate cocktail to try – both too sweet for me – the chocolate one was like drinking alcoholic chocolate ice cream, but the banana one was very creamy and too bananaery. We had another couple of drinks each – including for me a “Bloody Mary’ – which has to be the spiciest and hottest version I have ever had – just how much Tabasco did the barman put in it – but it was delicious.

For dinner tonight, grilled Pacific lobster was on the menu – I have a bit of a pash for lobster so it was my automatic choice – although it was served with a wild rice and red lentil mix (which didn’t work), a paw paw salsa and bok choi. But the lobster was huge – falling off the plate at both ends, even though the tail was curled underneath. The flesh though was delicious, creamy and moist. Colin chose classic fish and chips – which came with tartare sauce and a green salad – the fish was that meaty game fish he had the other night, but the chips were standard potato chips and not the island mix. He really enjoyed his meal too. But we still couldn’t face a dessert, even though we had not eaten anything since breakfast today – just a beer.

Back to the room and Colin tried once more to download, while I watched “Green Card”. We must do more exercise tomorrow.

Turkey For Christmas Dinner?

Friday 22 December

It had rained hard for most of the night, and was still drizzling when we went to breakfast. The grey clouds overhead were wall to wall, and showed no signs of breaking. Everyone was asking “where is the sun”? We did the usual blog and reading, until about mid morning when the skies showed signs of clearing for a while – the peaks were still shrouded in deep grey clouds, but out to sea seemed a bit brighter. We decided that a walk would give us some fresh air and some much needed exercise – Colin doesn’t like the sand on his feet, so we chose to walk along the road, anticlockwise from the hotel. It didn’t really matter which way we chose, any form of settlement – more than a couple houses clustered together, was several kilometres away, and further than we intended to go. (There is a restaurant further along this way, that I would like to try, but the only way to get there is by bus, which is hourly in the evening – if it runs – and it is too far to stagger – easily about five or six kilometres –and after a few glasses of wine I’m not sure we’d make it.) Along the road, there were detached properties on one side with marvelous views through the trees out over the bay. These varied from quite primitive structures of corrugated tin, held together in a wooden frame, to large elaborate brick buildings, with colonnaded verandahs and tiled roofs. We wondered what they were like inside. All the gardens look well-tended – I think these people prefer to be involved in outside activities rather than indoors.

We reached the end of the cove, where the beach turns into another bay, and continued on passed a part-built grey concrete hotel complex, situated across the road from the sea. Apparently it was started over thirteen years ago, and most of the two storey accommodation buildings were built in a large grassy field and large picture windows fitted before the sponsor pulled out. Then it was left. We have heard that it has recently been bought by an Italian for the Sheraton group, which could mean a real 5* hotel on the island. But that would be a huge undertaking from its present state and take some time. The walk was uneventful but pleasant and we returned to the hotel in need of a beer.

They had published the menu for Christmas dinner today – which inevitably included Roast Turkey and all the trimmings – the other options being Roast Virginia Ham or Tuna. I can’t really think that I would choose Tuna for Christmas dinner - but I suppose it could be different (another first). We have to decide whether to eat at lunchtime or in the evening – we are hoping the weather will have changed to being bright sunny by Monday, so will probably opt for a meal at sunset. It still feels very strange – a bit like when we cooked Christmas dinner for one of Colin’s birthdays at home (in August) – light evenings and warm weather - I wonder if they will have crackers?

We spent the rest of the day blogging, and puzzling – it’s taking some time to catch up with the blog, but I am now on yesterday’s, so nearly there. Afternoon tea had to be chamomile – filched from breakfast - as we are out of green tea and only a sachet or two of Jean’s blackcurrant left. The room’s selection includes English breakfast for Colin, but otherwise paw paw or mango or vanilla. We went for cocktails with the Manager again at 17.30 and managed once more to drink four or five tumblers of the green lethal brew. This time it was held in an open room beside the pool, and there were a few more people than on Tuesday night, so it was quite a social event – we got talking to several people, mainly from Australia, escaping for Christmas, and Lucy, here with husband and twins, originally from England, but who have globe trotted all over the world with hubby’s work (something like Andrea, who worked with us at Beths, and her family I would think, who traveled the world with Shell).

We changed (this is a bit of a habit really) for dinner again, before sitting down at Captain Andy’s. It appeared that the buffet in the main restaurant had been cancelled again – two nights running - it can only mean there’s not enough people in the hotel to make it worth while - so this eaterie was reasonably full. On tonight’s special’s board was Roast Pork – one of my favourites – but served with polenta – which I definitely do not like. We managed to get the waitress to persuade the chef that mash would be good, and the meal was delicious – lots of good crispy crackling and tasty meat. Since we have been here, we have only really managed main courses – no entrées or desserts. The portions are quite large, but doing not a lot during the day, means that we are just not very hungry.

We returned to the room, watched the end of a film and turned out the light. We really are getting used to this holiday mode again.

A Little Bit Of Exercise At Last

Thursday 21 December

The clock in our room is more than twenty minutes fast, so we were relieved to find we had woken just before nine, and still had time to make breakfast comfortably. All this doing nothing definitely makes you tired. It was raining quite hard by the time we had finished breakfast, so I blogged while Colin listened to his book again (he had got to an exciting part), sitting on our verandah. It is still warm – top twenties – and quite humid.

By 11.15 though, the rain had stopped so we went to see what the “activities walk” was all about. We were the only takers, so our guide, Toku, grabbed a towel (? – in case it rained again?) and we set off up the road The walk took us along one of the only backroads on the island, where there were many smart houses, with huge grassed gardens growing coconuts, paw paw and nonia - a cream, knobbly, lemon-sized fruit that smelt horrible. Inside it was a bit like a passion fruit – all pips - but apparently it has amazing health properties in the juice. Toku told us that it makes you ill, but is very good for digestive and colonic problems and many of the older Polynesian folk take a dose every day! (think we’ll give this one a miss). There were also swampy fields growing taro, which we had first seen in the rice paddies in China – I remembered it tasted a bit like an overcooked roasted chestnut, all dry and powdery. Over here they eat it like a potato – roasted, mashed or chipped. Several people were out tidying their plots ready for the Christmas family get-together. The island has been subdivided between the indigenous families, and they lease plots to others, for a maximum of sixty years, after which it has to be returned to the family. When someone dies, they are buried in a small cemetery on their own land. We saw many large grey marble gravestones in the corners of gardens, most of which had fresh flowers and even Christmas decorations on them. The family land is subdivided between the children, each receiving a portion on which to build a home if they want to stay. There is a strong sense of ‘family’ amongst these people and Tokuinformed us that the mass of people we saw on the plane would have been coming back for a family reunion – most families do this every two or three years.

Toku had visited London as part of a troop of Cook Islands Youth Dancers several years ago and performed at the Edinburgh Military Tattoo. He was very into all types of music and sports, but especially rugby league. His coach, who has now returned to live on this island at the age of 40, used to be a star player for Wigan. Toku is now hoping he will be able to get a contract to play for an English Club – we suggested London Broncos but he hadn’t heard of them – just Wigan and Leeds. The walk only lasted an hour but we had found out lots of information about this island, as well as having a bit of much-needed exercise. Sitting on a coach all day, does not keep you fit.

We returned to the room for a picnic of wine and cheese on the balcony. Colin was snoozing and the walk this morning had inspired me to explore some more, so I wandered around the resort (looking into a few other rooms – the beachfront suites are about twice the size of our room with outside showers, but the rest seem very similar to ours – I didn’t find the honeymoon suite, obviously hidden away in some quiet corner) and ended up on the beach. There was no one else around, so I set off towards what Colin and I had named “Robinson Crusoe island” – although attached to the land, from the hotel it looked like an island in the distance, with waving palm trees and white sand. The beach around the hotel is white sands – some soft and fine, other parts minute broken shells that feel gritty to your feet. I wandered along through the shallows, the small waves tumbling diagonally towards the beach in very quick succession, until some way further up the cove, the beach became stony and a pebbly spit had formed out into the water. Picking my way across on the sandiest bits, I continued towards my goal. The beach kept changing from sandy to stony, back to sandy again. Near the hotel the back of the beach was protected from erosion by huge black boulders, caged in wire, to prevent the sand being taken out to sea. Further along, the back of the beach was lined with old palms and pines. Most of these were very tall and looked considerably battered. The sand had eroded away round some of the pine trees, leaving large grey trunks suspended on lots of thin knobbly roots, bent in all directions, searching for a hold. They didn’t look as if they could support the tree, and in fact, one enormous old tree had recently fallen over – the exposed roots could only have penetrated a very short way into the sand although the foliage was still green. I got almost to the end of the bay, but the rest of the way seemed stony, so I decided it was time to retrace my steps. Colin was awake when I returned, but not at all worried that I had been missing!

We played cards, went for pre-dinner drinks, came back and showered and changed (still not sure why, nobody else does) and went to eat. There was no buffet tonight in the main restaurant – perhaps there are not enough people here to support it – we think there’s only about 50 here at present (Toku told us the hotel would be full over Christmas, and the waitress said not many more people were arriving – so we will see who was right). So we ate yet again at Captain Andy’s – I had tuna fish again – with a different sweet sauce – hope tuna isn’t turning into Australian beef – and Colin chose pasta – for which he’s had withdrawal symptoms for some time now – a large bowl of fettucine with seafood and a rich creamy sauce – should keep him happy for a few days. After dinner we went to the Crab Races – within a circle of rope, lots of small hermit crabs with numbers painted on their backs (there was an activity last night to catch the crabs), are freed from a bucket and people bet on which number will cross the line first. NZ$2 a go. It was quite a laugh as we watched these poor little dark shelled crabs, racing for freedom – along with lots of tiny albino crabs, that must have been caught at the same time, but were not in the races – many of these sprinted for the door of the marquee, sensing which way was back to the sea and home. Colin was asked to blow the shell to start one of the races, but only managed a squeek – it’s much harder than it looks. The whole event only lasted about half an hour, and at the end all the crabs were returned to the sea. – probably to be caught again for the next race on Saturday!

We returned to the room, and fatally, switched on the television, and one of the “Lord of the Rings” films (the second I believe) was showing. We were hooked, watching for the scenery we had seen in New Zealand, and sure enough, there was the river, and the cliffs, and the mines – only fleeting glimpses, but we could say “we’ve been there”.

By then it was time for bed – we are getting very used to this relaxing time, I know it’s going to be like Thailand, very difficult to get into tour mode again, after a couple of weeks.

Exploring Rarotonga

Wednesday 20 December

We did wake up this morning in time for breakfast, after about eleven hours sleep. We had got up once in the night to sort out the coloured lights flashing around the room – the DVD player flashed green with “no disk” and the air conditioning flashed green or red or both at the same time. Colin soon managed to sort it - what a star! – and then we crashed out again.

Breakfast is continental style with lots of different fruits from paw paw, passion fruit and fresh coconut, to the more normal melons, grapes, pineapples and bananas. There are lots of different breads and cakes, with spreads, to choose from, and a wide range of juices, teas, coffees or chocolate to drink.

The sky was quite cloudy this morning with even a few spots of rain, so we decided to take the local bus to town, but while we were gathering our things together (lucky we were in our room), the phone rang and it was Juz and Co – they had realized that our mobiles and email were not going to connect here and tracked down our hotel and our room. For the first five minutes we couldn’t get a word in as those back home were obviously still celebrating and having a good time. We eventually managed to impart news of our travels between garbled conversations from the other end. It was lovely to hear them all, and such a surprise.

We reached reception just in time for the 10.00 clockwise bus – one bus travels round the coast road clockwise and another anticlockwise. There is only one main road on the island hugging the coast, with a few short turnings off that are unmade and lead to the few remote houses in the hills. The total circumference of the island is 31 kms, and we are nearly half way round, anticlockwise from the airport and town. The bus took us on the route we had traveled in the dark last night, making several stops as people hailed the bus from the sidewalk. The journey into town takes about twenty five minutes

The centre of Rarotonga island is made up of several peaks between 500 and 650 metres high, all covered in tropical rain forest. There are three or four walking trails to some of the peaks following the courses of small rivers and streams, but mostly it is uninhabited and no roads. When we set off today, it was still overcast, but warm, although low threatening dark clouds hid the uppermost parts of the peaks. By the time we reached Avarua, the main town, the sun had come out, the low clouds disappeared and it was “hot”.

We knew we were at “Cook’s Point”, the centre of town, because everyone else got off the bus. Before we left the hotel, we saw a man on the hotel internet (how come the IT man didn’t mention this when we asked about connecting the Thai Shite to a ‘hotspot’?) and he told us that there were “internet cafes” in town that were much cheaper than using the hotel computers. So one of our first missions was to find a “café” and check and send emails. The main disadvantage of this is that I cannot publish the blog, so the entries are mounting up.

Avarua is definitely a town for tourists – one large department store, selling everything from sofas, to camping equipment, and DVDs, toys and kitchen appliances (Juz will be interested to know that the only electrical brand here is Fischer Pykel – although I didn’t see her “wish for” dishwasher on view), and lots of clothes, jewellery shops – everything is either mother of pearl or black pearls here – and cafes. We spied a large supermarket from the bus on our way in, but apart from that, there is very little in the way of foodstuffs, or everyday household items on sale – has the one supermarket got the monopoly for these goods? Most of the shops are spread out along the esplanade – and we mean spread out – there is one terraced row, of about a dozen shops but the rest are built higgledy piggledy along THE road or around Cooks Point. There are a few turnings, a couple of hundred metres long at the most, with a few more shops and cafes hidden behind foliage, but I would not want to come here to do my Christmas shopping! Having said that, the department store had Christmas carols blaring out from a hi-fi sharing a small tent with a camping equipment display, outside on the pavement, and garlands of tinsel on some displays.

We found a internet site in the post office and bought a ticket with the necessary code. It enabled us to read and send a couple of emails – although at one point, whilst composing an email, it froze and we had to change machines and start again. But at least it means that we can keep in touch. From here we explored the rest of the town, found a book shop (might need that before we leave) as well as a couple of interesting cafes. We stopped for pizza for lunch, which took about 45 minutes to arrive – (was the chef making it from scratch or is this just another example of people working to “Island time” (when? – who cares!?)

We caught the 15.00 bus back to the hotel and read and blogged for a while, before changing for drinks and dinner (no need really, but it revives you from a lethargic state, ready to face making a choice of what to eat from the menu). One of the “chef’s specials” tonight was sirloin steak, but served with paw paw (which I am not keen on – it tastes very perfumy to me), so I chose a rib eye steak instead. Colin had game fish – a very dense white meat fish – much more so than tuna– you needed a steak knife to slice it through – but which was very tasty. As you had barramundi in Australia, almost to the exclusion of other fish, here it is game fish - they eat it in salads, batter it for ‘classic fish and chips’, grill it, or even casserole it in a sauce – very versatile.

The Cook Islands is very similar to what Koh Samui must have been like ten or more years ago – which surprised us as the advertising portrays a glittering, modern island of paradise. The people are extremely laid back and friendly and the atmosphere is great, but the infrastructure is undeveloped and tatty, out of the 1950’s. Having said that, now we are getting used to it, it is very relaxing, and I can see we will be spending our days as we did at Smile, doing nothing much at all.

Two Days For The Price Of One

Tuesday 19 December
Part Two

The flight to Rarotonga was very bumpy in places – all those winds and rain from Auckland buffeting the skies – and we were advised to keep our seat belts on all the way – and even instructed not to get out of our seats at one point.

As we descended from 37,000 feet, the captain informed us that the time was now 02.30 on Tuesday 19 December – 19 hours before we took off in the plane! So we are now ten hours behind those in England instead of thirteen hours in front! It’s a bit like a time warp – and feels quite confusing. They opened doors at both the front and the rear of the plane to disgorge the passengers – not wanting it to take hours in the middle of the night. Rarotonga is another countrified airport – with a thatched hut to pass through for passport control where you have to declare that you have no food, nuts, seeds or plants in your luggage – I had already binned my pumpkin seeds just in case. As we walked out, the air was warm – even though it was three o’clock in the morning. The forecourt was teaming with Polynesians meeting and greeting those coming off the plane – it was like a large family get together, all wearing jasmine garlands round their necks or on their heads. The air smelt strongly of the floral fragrance.

Each hotel had a desk to report to, and we too were given a garland each before boarding the minibus waiting to take us to our hotel. We made calls at other hotels nearer the airport on the way. The reception areas at these hotels were thatched open-sided buildings – looking quite temporary – and the guests were almost immediately whisked off in golf buggies. Mmmmm – not quite what I had expected. The blurbs enticing you to visit the Cook Islands, make it sound like modern glitzy hotels on white sandy beaches – paradise islands. We arrived at our hotel, and the Reception was in a proper building – no doors at the front – but it is warm here even at night – about 24 degrees C when we landed – but a proper desk and staff waiting to allocate us our room – there were about a dozen of us – a couple of families and two couples. We were all given a fruit punch to drink, before being given room our keys - room 520 for us. We had booked a garden room – well the block when we found it was in a garden I think – it was very dark and difficult enough to follow the paths – but the outside of the building looked like a large dark concrete brick, two stories high - and we were on the ground floor. A cell block with doors in dark porches sunk into the building with lighted scallop shells to show you the room number.

Opening our door we were faced with a small room, painted in garish turquoise, yellow and brown (I later realize that these are the colours the Polynesian people like) with twin beds (we had asked for a double) that didn’t actually fit on the wall they were placed against – half of the head of one hung over the end of the wall into an alcove. A table and two chairs were squashed in by the picture window, touching the bed. A large wooden protrusion cut off part of the room near the door – this formed part of the bathroom – no door – containing a wash/hand basin and a large mirror. Through a door behind was the loo and a large shower base with an uneven floor – presumably to encourage the water to drain away – this was also described as a bath – the front side is no more than six inches high – and this whole room was tiled in mini mosaic tiles in all shades of turquoise. Not exactly what I had been expecting – this made the bungalows at Smile on Koh Samui seem very luxurious – and I was not happy. We traipsed back to Reception – finding our way in the dark was quite an achievement - and Colin, being more diplomatic than me, explained that we had asked for a double bed. It took a little while, but they found another room, where we could stay for the eleven days we are here – No 505 – one block closer to the main building. Sure enough this room has a huge queen-size bed (6ft wide or more), which still hangs over the end of the wall! But the rest is the same. By this time it is nearly 05.30, so we decide to sleep on it and have a look round later.

We slept through till 10.30 – thereby missing breakfast which finishes promptly at 10.00. It was definitely time to explore the resort a little more. We are surrounded by gardens, and our balcony has loungers out on a strip of grass facing ferns, coral bougainvillea, banana trees with bunches of bananas ripening, and lots of bellbine – I know how hard it is to get rid of that weed! Covered walkways took us to other blocks like ours, and even those facing the beach looked the same, just a different view. The bay is a long sandy lagoon, with large waves breaking in a frill of white foam about 50 metres out. The water was pale turquoise and very clear, and when we reached the verandah of the restaurants, we could look over and see loads of fish – sliver, blue and grey, all different shapes and sizes – swimming in shoals in the shallows. There seems to be a constant breeze here (sometimes getting to wind strength), which blows through the palm trees, making a soft whirring sound – very calming. There is just one boomerang shaped swimming pool, with a few loungers around, but there seems to be a wide range of optional activities to choose from – snorkeling, kayaking, tennis, table tennis, pool, diving, making hats and dyeing sarongs. We had not seen any accommodation that looked a lot different to ours – there is a honeymoon suite here with a private pool, but you have to provide wedding documentation to book it! - so we decided to stay in our little enclave. As you enter into the relaxed spirit of the island, everything seems better.

We tried to connect the Thai Shite to the Wifi connection here, without success and the mobile phones don’t work either, so we may be incommunicado for the next ten days. After having some lunch – Colin was starving by this time – we sat around the pool and I blogged (I am desperately trying to catch up on the last few days entries) and Colin listened to his book on his MP4 – so relaxed he fell asleep. The time whizzed by and it seemed only a short while before we needed to prepare ourselves for the manager’s cocktail party at 17.30.

We showered and changed – but needn’t have bothered, as most people turned up in their shorts or swimmers – and were offered a bright green garish liquid, ladled out of a wooden boat, or a pinky/orange drink, along with spring rolls (Colin has had withdrawal symptoms for these since leaving Thailand) and samosas. The difference in the drinks was that the green one was heavily laced with alcohol and the other was purely a fruit juice mix. Needless to say we had several green concoctions each – I think the alcohol was rum – and were glad of the nibbles to keep us sober. We met an older Irish couple who were traveling to the US later tonight, but who had been traveling since September, in much the same way as us. There were not many people at this party – and, in fact, the hotel is not very full – quite a few Australian families taking advantage of an early start to their summer holidays, a few New Zealanders and a couple of Asian families (but I think they probably came from Australia or New Zealand too). We seem to be the only Brits.

We had another reconnoitre around the hotel before dinner. Every night there is a themed buffet in the main restaurant – tonight it was fire dancers, with standard buffet fare – but we have eaten so many buffets in the last few weeks, we decided to visit “Captain Andy’s”, their á la carte dinery where we both chose the yellow fin tuna. This was a huge steak of fish with a caramelized lemon crust, perched on top of roasted vegetables. We were glad we had skipped entrées and even declined desserts. Although not late in finishing our meal, lack of sleep from yesterday (or is that today) meant we were tired. There is a good range of films shown on the television in the room – about nine or ten to suit all tastes – but we were even too tired to watch one of these. Our bed beckoned.

On Our Way Again

Tuesday 19 December

Part One

We were late up again this morning – no pressure to do anything, but be ready to leave by 16,00. We had to vacate our room by 11.00, so we packed our cases and went out for a late breakfast. We had seen a small café offering cereals and pancakes as early morning fare on our travels around town yesterday, but by the time we arrived they were on to the lunch menu! But the food was tasty anyway, and Colin had an enormous hot chocolate, with heaps of cream on the top with marshmallows round the saucer and two chocolate flakes for dunking – his idea of how a hot chocolate should be – no wonder we are putting on weight.

From here we wandered back to the Square again. Market stalls selling jewellery or clothes had been set up to one side, and different groups were performing all around – a rock band was drowning out many of the other musicians - a man dressed as an Elizabethan bard was telling ghoulish stories to a group of students, another girl was dancing Irish jigs, as well as the café vendors and those preaching the gospel. A group of primary school children – about 5 years old or less – emerged from the Cathedral in crocodile fashion, watched proudly by many parents, as they marched in their maroon blazers and boaters, back to school – after their Christmas carol service we presume. At least Christchurch has woken up this morning.

We found an outdoor adventure shop selling glue to mend my kagool – so old now, the sleeve seams are parting – and wandered around more shops and over the old iron bridges to look at the gardens along the river – the Avon – which winds its way through the city. Christchurch is a really pretty city – in the centre at least. There are lots of green areas, and trees line most of the streets and, of course the trams clang along their route regularly. There was a series of eight large metal containers (the shipping sort), that had been placed at different stops around the tram route, telling the Christmas story, very simply, with models depicting the scenes and chalk writing on the walls. So simple, but very effective. We became people watchers at the pavement café in the lee of the Cathedral, until it was time to reclaim our luggage and wait for our transport to the airport.

Together with two more of our group, we were collected by a very garrulous minibus driver who talked about everything from cricket, to politics, to the history of Christchurch and back to sport and netball, rugby, rowing and motor cycle racing (all of which New Zealand are good at!). All in half an hour. We made our way to the Domestic terminal and the inevitable security check. Both Colin and I had our considerable amount of hand luggage searched – mine because I had my electric toothbrush in my backpack – the inspector said he thought it was a weapon! – and Colin because he had packed his water bottle amongst his belongings - they didn’t tell us what they thought that might have been - a grenade, a bomb?. Having pulled all our bags apart and laid bare all my chemisty bits, we were left to repack, luckily not having anything confiscated. Reaching the boarding gate, it was not long before we were called to board for our trip to Auckland. We were offered tea, coffee or water on the flight, accompanied by a shortcake biscuit – Air New Zealand definitely don’t go overboard with their food – and we were left wondering what we would get on the next flight tonight.

Landing in Auckland, we were not surprised it was raining again – as I think I mentioned before, it seems to rain most days here – and it seemed very cold, less than 20 degrees – even though nearer the equator than Christchurch, where the temperature had been over 30 degrees when we left, with blue cloudless skies and lots of sun. It was very confusing to find the route from the Domestic to the International section of the airport – we were following signs which just stopped in the middle of a corridor, and no matter where we looked we couldn’t find our way. In the end a man showed us down more corridors and outside to a bus stop, where the buses ran every 20 minutes to take passengers across to the International side – it’s a good job we weren’t in a hurry – even the bus was very slow when it came, detouring to hotels, and cargo points along the way. We had been given our boarding passes at Christchurch for this part of the journey, so we didn’t have to queue – which was lucky as all the computers had recently gone down, and they were announcing that there would be a delay of at least a quarter of an hour before they could restart processing boarding cards! We found the desk to pay our Airport tax (NS$25 each), which in normal circumstances would have been extremely busy, but we were the only ones there and progressed through security – easily this time - and found ourselves in an empty hall to spend a couple of hours waiting for the plane. Knowing that Air New Zealand’s food is poor, we visited Burger King for a quick snack (catching up on our junk food intake), before blogging for an hour.

We noticed that there lots of Polynesian type people were accumulating around us, all wearing a Tshirt bearing the slogan – “Rarotogan Camp 2006-2007” - from small children who could hardy walk to ninety-plus year olds, several of whom were in wheel chairs. When the flight was called and we made our way down to the boarding gate, the waiting area was teeming with these people – a couple of hundred at least, including lots of children with vast energy reserves, all charging around and shouting, screaming - or crying! This wasn’t going to be a quiet flight.

They started boarding over an hour before the flight – someone had done their homework and realized that all these people would take some time to get on the plane (we later found out that no one and nothing makes a Polynesian person rush) – and they were right. We were in row 8, out of only 40, but we were not called to get on the plane until about ten minutes before take off. Once on board it all seemed a little calmer, and by the time we were flying many of the children must have been asleep as it was reasonably quiet. The film on board was once again “Flicka” – special for December with New Zealand Air! – a chidren’s tale of a girl and a mustang horse - but it passed a couple of hours, during which time they served the food! – hot beef pie and cold pasta salad (my salad ingredients were missing) and a tub of water – not very pleasant at all. But I did have a glass of champagne – well fizzy anyway - so it wasn’t all bad. I definitely wouldn’t recommend traveling with New Zealand airways to anyone – notwithstanding the food stakes – the planes themselves are old, noisy (I thought we were losing a wing on this flight at one time, with all the noise coming from that direction), and the seats have lost any springs they might have had years ago. The size and type of plane doesn’t seem to matter – they are all old – and funnily enough they don’t have young trolley dollies – the first flight from Melbourne to Auckland had all “older men” – silver tops at least over 50 – and today’s flights had older women desperately trying to look younger!

"Six Chairs Missing" - What A Great Name

Monday 18 December

Breakfast was a continuation of the party last night, with more farewells and hugs and kisses as everyone went their separate ways – many going home to get ready for Christmas, while others were stopping on the way home, to elongate their holiday by a few days.

We had all arranged to meet around 09.00 for breakfast, so it was quite late by the time we were ready to explore Christchurch a bit more. Our first task was to investigate the shops in search of yet another camera – Colin had tried ours under different conditions, and although fine when taking photos indoors, as soon as we went outside in the sun, the centre of the picture “bloomed” and smudged. As we still have four months to go on our travels, including Easter Island and South America, we would want the piccys to be good, so the decision was to buy another camera – the same version, as we already had extra batteries and memory sticks for it. We found the Sony centre, and an engineer looked at the lens, and declared it damaged (we still feel it probably just has a bit of sediment on it from the water drying inside, and could possibly be cleaned – but he was the expert). The salesman offered us a reduction on the price as it was a “service query”. We spent a couple of hours wandering around the shops in Christchurch looking in other camera shops. There really is a very British feel to this town, with Ballantynes, a large department store having its windows decorated with scenes from Christmas Fairy Tales, just like Selfridges used to have years ago. We also looked at long sleeved Tshirts for me – I still only have a cardigan and one long sleeved top – and having experienced the cold here in New Zealand, wondered if that was enough for the very south of South America. I didn’t think I could wear the merino/possum woolly jumpers that are famous in New Zealand, they seemed a bit itchy, but I did find a zipped cardi in warm Tshirt material (not too much extra weight I hope). So we returned to the Sony Centre and bought the camera – white this time – unfortunately the pink one was out of stock everywhere – and then revisited the Tshirt shop and bought me an extra top.

By now it was time for a quick snack in Starbucks – we had their Christmas sandwich of turkey, cranberry and brie between us – before taking a tour of the town on a tram – we met Helen from the tour with her daughter, who were also catching the sights. The trams are old 1905 trams that were only installed here about five years ago, but have been a hit with the tourists. They clang round the streets in a circular route, ringing their bell to let pedestrians know they are behind them. We had been given tickets entitling us to ride for free for a whole day- hopping on and off at will when we first visited the city a week ago, but had not had time to use them then – so now was our first opportunity. The whole way round only takes 30 minutes, but there is lots to see on the way – botanical gardens, statues galore, old style houses and buildings – the University of Christchurch Canterbury is a replica of the universities in Oxford and Cambridge back home – grey gothic buildings, with pointy windows and large expanses of lawns separating the different buildings. There are eleven stops in all, each with its own particular landmark/s to see. We were also spotting restaurants to eat in tonight, and not far from the hotel, the tram route went down New Regent Street – a small road full of restaurants and cafes all offering different styles of food. So when we arrived back in the Square, later in the afternoon, we retraced the tram rails and explored further. We finally decided we would try “Six Chairs Missing” – quirky name, and splendid sounding bistro food. There is a Restaurant Tram, but on making enquiries this morning we were told it was fully booked tonight – but that would have been good, riding around the city whilst eating our meal.

We returned to the hotel, blogged a while, and then walked back to the restaurant once more. The eating area was upstairs in a small shop, with the cooking area taking up most of the ground floor. There were only another couple of tables taken when we arrived, and the waitress was still writing up the wine menu on the blackboard, but we were given food menus to start our selection. We shared a bruchetta which had feta cheese and red onion marmalade liberally spooned on the top, followed by rack of lamb for Colin (he is still on his lamb fetish) and I had salmon stuffed with scallops with a lemony crust. We shared a rum and raisin bread and butter pudding with butterscotch sauce for dessert (does that sound like me?). Both meals were delicious – some of the best food we have eaten in New Zealand, and so much better than the fare from several of the hotels we have visited – and inexpensive too. The atmosphere was very relaxed and friendly – one young Japanese couple came in and just had a creamy/ice cream dessert, but they were just as warmly welcomed as the rest of us. It’s the sort of place that made us feel sad to be leaving Christchurch, as we couldn’t come back for more.

We wandered back to our hotel, in the corner of the Square. It was around 22.30 but everything was very quiet, hardly any other souls about – a bit like Trafalgar Square without any people or traffic. Everyone must be home preparing for Christmas – just a week away now.

Our Last Train Ride In New Zealand

Sunday 17 December

Our last full day on tour today – the second half of this trip has really speeded by, but we still had a long way to go today. The weather had cleared and was fine and sunny when we woke this morning, and as we were off to breakfast, the group were leaving for the airfield just down the road, for their helicopter flight. By the time we were all getting on the coach, an hour later, the clouds had rolled in again and the top of the mountains had disappeared, which meant no more flying for a while – they were very lucky to have had the window of clear skies.

We traveled through flat pastureland surrounded by mountains, where there were very few sheep. The land is quite often water-logged in this region, which affects the feet of the sheep. Cattle are more water tolerant, but the farmers are now building a system of furrows across the fields, so that water drains in to the lower part, allowing the animals to stand on the higher drier ground (only a foot or two higher) out of the wet. This system is working as the animals have been tested to be healthier and produce more milk and better quality meat. We saw many Wekos – look like small kiwis and are often mistaken for the national bird- and Pukekos – also known as swamp hen – bluish colour plumage, looking like a slightly large moorhen with a white beak. These birds can now be shot during the duck-shooting season, as they are a pest to the farmers, pulling up the grass and its roots with their sharp beaks, so there is no pasture for the grazing animals. Farmers are currently campaigning to be able to shoot them all year round. There are lots of pigs and wild boars in the forests around here (they too can withstand the wet ground). They were brought to the country by Captain Cook – the sheep he brought with him all died quite quickly, but the pigs survived and flourished in the forested hills. A favourite tree in this area is the Kohitatia, a white flowering tree, only found in this region now, as it has been cut down on a large scale throughout the rest of New Zealand.

Our first stop this morning was at Hokitika, famous for the green Nephrite Jade (named after “whitebait”, a delicacy in this area) found in the Arohura river. It is a very hard stone (6.7, compared to 10 for diamond), much harder though than its cousin the Asian jade. This stone could be hewn into knives and spearheads with extremely sharp edges, which easily decapitated animals (and people too I suppose). The Maoris used to have a custom as an act of friendship whereby they passed a stone from person to person, and each new hand polished it before passing on, till it shined and sparkled like a diamond. They ended up trading, first the polished stones, then the raw material in exchange for food and other goods. In the Treaty of 1848, between the English and the Maoris, it was agreed that only the local Maori tribe would be allowed to mine the stone, but a few years ago, this was challenged and the dispute has still not been settled, so at present no one is mining the jade, which may cause a problem for the retailers in the not too distant future.

Following the gold rushes between 1862 and 1864, Hokitika became the biggest sea port on South Island, transporting provisions and gold between here and Sydney. But it had no deep water harbour and boats had to traverse the sand bar at high tide which resulted in many running aground, stuck until the next high tide (a profitable business was set up to pull the boats clears with tugs, as a sideline). But by the 1950’s boats had become too big to dock here, so a main road was built connecting Hokitika with Christchurch, through Arthur’s Pass which amazingly took only one year to build.

We visited the local factory and store, looking again at the intricate Maori shapes the stone had been carved into. Whilst looking around here, Juz phoned to say they were in the middle of their “Christmas Day dinner” (Saturday evening at home) and everything was going fine – later photos showed the grandparents and Andy (!) asleep – just taking a nap before waking up for the next course, I think was the explanation. But it was really great to speak to her, and to know that all was going well. It is probably just as well that Colin was outside the shop with the wallet, as I found several pieces I liked, and probably would have spent a fortune.

By the end of the phone call it was time to get back on the coach again to go to Greymouth, the largest town in the region. We passed through gorges and canyons and out on to the coast once more. New Zealand holds an endurance race each year, from Greymouth to Christchurch, whereby competitors have to cycle to the foot of the mountains inland, run up the river valleys through the mountains and come out on the other side of Arthur’s Pass, where they then kayak 60 kms down the river, cycle to the beach outside Christchurch and then run to the finishing line. It used to be a two day endurance test, but now the record stands at10 hours 45 minutes! - it takes six hours by train!! and one man has won it nine times – he has just retired at the age of 40 years old. Ironically it is sponsored by Speights, the local brewery.

The ‘train group’ was dropped off at Shantytown, a faithful replica of a village from the 1900 gold mining days, with models of houses, shops, and services. We saw the printers with the old printing presses and messy ink plates and letters to set up the local newspapers, the fire station with an 1880’s fire engine (I got Colin to take lots of piccys for Alex), the hospital and dentists with all those gory instruments that we can remember still being used on us in our childhood, and the jail, one cell was open showing the wooden bed and not a lot more, but peeking through the closed door, it was a bit of a shock to see the wax effigy of a man lying on the bed, obviously calling out for attention. There was the old record book of felons, showing arrests for larceny, breach of the peace and assaults, resulting in sentences of anything from four hours in jail to four years. There was also a small area to one side of the village, showing the life of the Chinese in this region, who came as storekeepers and traders, supporting the miners. They brought their own culture to the village, but rarely intermingled socially, so that a mixed race wedding was very rare. Many of these Chinese people went back to China after the gold rush, many very wealthy by that time.

Also at this village was the railway station with an old steam locomotive running for a short journey up the repaired track about four times a day. Needless to say, Andrew was straight to the engine sheds to find out all the info (might glean something useful for when his railway opens in April). We saw the stoker loading the coal (all very wet, so that when he pulled the hooter lever, the smoke was dense and black, curling into the environment – no smokeless fuel here – it took a floorful to go up the track and a bunkerful to come back. The engine – Gertie – was built in 1877 and was just as gleaming now as when she first rode the rails. We hurried back to wait on the station, but Andrew managed to ride in the driver’s cab, and didn’t return even when the whistle blew for the journey to begin. We chugged along the short track, stopping for a piccy opportunity on the way out, and at the saw mill on the way back – where you could go gold panning – we had a ticket to go for free – but I decided to give that a miss this time after the disasterous results a couple of days ago.

Greymouth, fifteen minutes away by minibus, is the largest town on the west coast. Its main industry is as a port, exporting the coal mined locally to China and Japan, as well as some to Australia (who are one of the largest producers of coal in the world? - perhaps because it is a very black bitumen which burns extremely hot). When the huge freighters dock, riding high above the water line, the coal is already in large hoppers, which are tipped by crane into the cargo hold where a small digger spreads the load. They arrive at high tide, and by the next high tide they are fully loaded and ready to sail, sunk deep into the water by this stage.

The “grey” in the town name aptly illustrates the town – it is dull, monotone, unexciting, and almost a forgotten outreach. But in fact the river was named “Grey” by Thomas Brunner when he arrived here in 1848, after George Grey, the then Governor of New Zealand. In 1868 the town became Greymouth to recognize the status of the port on the river. It is supposedly a centre for “action-packed” activities around the area, including white water rafting, caving, watching dolphins, walking the glaciers, etc, but none of that has rubbed off on the town itself, and its appeal was a mystery to me. The brochures also tell us it has warm, friendly people (as do most places in New Zealand) with “wild food” including venison, boar and whitebait – perhaps we should have stayed longer to sample their fare. Linda, the lady driving the minibus, took us on a tour of the town (about five minutes to see the docks, the new hospital and the high street) before depositing us at the railway station to make our connection with the TransAlpine train to take us to Christchurch.

This train had comfortable springy seats, and large panoramic windows, and we were seated at one end of the buffet car – handy for those cups of tea and sarnies for lunch – right at the end of the train – we had to walk off the platform and down the track just to get on. The first part of the journey took us along the wide, twisty valley of the Grey River, and around Lake Brunner, through stands of native beech forest, then up into the deep gorge valley of the Taramakau river, where we were surrounded by glacial valleys and snow-capped mountains. The track then climbed steeply into the foothills of Mount Franklin to the Otira Tunnel which stretches nine kilometres through the mountain under Arthur’s Pass (those on the coach actually traveled on the road which took them over Arthur’s Pass). We emerged from the darkness into the Waimakariri River valley, to cross the fertile farmland of the Canterbury Plain. Sheep and goats were grazing to the very edges of the track, which ran about half way up the valley sides. Deep glacial ‘u’ shaped valleys cut into the Plain where rivers joined and provided some spectacular scenery. The rest of the coach joined us for this last part of the journey, and we all arrived in Christchurch around 18.00. Darryl had arrived at the station just before the train, and it was then just a short ride to the hotel.

Our last “Farewell Dinner” for some time, was in the bowels of the hotel again, where they entertain tour groups. The menu choice for main course was chicken or sirloin steak, and lots of people chose the beef option. The menu said “medium”, but of course I like mine “still mooing” and the waitress seemed a little concerned about asking the chef to change it. But when it came, it was “blue” as I like it, although not the tenderest piece of beef I have eaten. But the rest who went with the chef’s recommendation had “shoeleather” – really dry and tough as old boots – and many sent it back almost untouched – not good enough for a posh hotel. But we had lots of wine and enjoyed the party atmosphere, as everyone exchanged email addresses and promised to keep in touch – I might even have a few more readers of the blog. Although taking a little while to get going – maybe the result of Alan’s very quiet, withdrawn character – by the end of the tour the group had gelled well and it was sad to say “goodbye” to some very lovely people. We might meet up again with Elaine and Dick as they live in Cumbria near Hadrian’s Wall, not too far from Juz, and we may even get to see Maureen and Sheila from the US, when we visit Millie next year, as Sheila lives in Pennsylvania – just across the river I am told from New Jersey.