Happy Birthday Mum

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19 February 2011

Happy Birthday Mum. That is how the morning started. I hopped out of bed and along the lane to use the phone to call Mum to wish her a happy birthday. That is the first time that we have used an actual phone during our trip since we have been able to use Skype everywhere else (and our mobiles with a local sim in Aus). Here in the Cook Islands, wifi is bought in megabyte packages rather than units of time, never seems to be free, and is pretty expensive when you consider how quickly anything other than zipping through e-mails and checking Facebook (or your favourite blog ;-) ) uses up those megs.

As the call came to an end the rain came down so I sheltered for short while before being asked by a local “when do you go home?” I think that he was trying to be friendly, meaning how long are you here for but it didn‘t really come across that way and, since the rain had eased up, I decided to make a run for it.

International phone cards - great things but a bit of a rip off here we have decided. A call to the UK, USA etc costs $10 for up to an hour plus a 40cent surcharge - fabulous. BUT you can only buy phone cards in $10 or $20 denominations, unless we misunderstand things, the $10 one won’t get you 1 hour of talk because you are short the 40 cent surcharge and the $20 is only good for one international call because, even if you use less than the hour, you are charged $10 meaning that, with the surcharge, you are left with $9.60 which is good for about a 2 minute call to the UK. Wouldn’t it make more sense to sell them in £10.40 and $20.80 units?

Back at the hostel, our thoughts turned to packing, for today we were moving to somewhere that we hoped would put us in slightly sunnier frames of mind. Our New friends, Ivor and Laura, were heading for LA tonight so we wanted to say goodbye to them before they headed off to the Saturday market. We sat and chatted around a table, exchanged e-mail addresses etc then Gregg started the moving task. It is not realistic to get two backpacks, a body board & bag, groceries and two day sacks on one little motorbike together with two adult human beings, so Gregg took one load without me and then came back for me and the rest.

We arrived a little early and were therefore unsurprised to discover that our room wasn’t ready so left to run an errand or two, leaving the bags at reception. On our return, our room still wasn’t ready so we wandered down to the beach - just beyond the last of the bungalows on site - and lazed in hammocks idly chatting and whiling the time away. We had been told that we would be having a bungalow for our first night as there were no rooms in the house available but, by the time the bungalow was ready, there had been a change of plan and we could have our room straight away.

Upon opening the door, we were initially delighted that it was much cosier than that which we had left but, immediately after being swamped by relief, we were also swamped by two not so nice experiences - a very strong smell of damp and unbelievable heat. We figured that we could buy something to camouflage the smell - there is no visible damp and the smell arises from the carpet which has probably just one too many wet towels/bikinis etc flung on it - and that it would probably cool down in the evening.

So, we headed off to buy some groceries. We returned with another random combination of items and air freshener and set about labelling the bags (required at hostels) before popping them into the fridge.

Then we found ourselves chatting away most of the rest of the day with another English couple, who are leaving tomorrow and who have been at the hostel for 3 weeks - they are travelling for a year and their trip sounds amazing.

Bed time came around and, unfortunately, the room had not dissipated its heat into the cooler night air. It was stifling and the little fan (attached to the window frame) was making very little difference. It was mounted too high and at least half of its arc blew the cooler air that it was producing straight out of the window. We tried adjusting the fan but to no avail, so Gregg decided that the only option left was for him to get out his mini screwdriver set (from a cracker - thanks Mum)and promptly release the fan from its position and relocate it to one which could cool us enough to allow us to sleep and, eventually, we did.

20 February 2011

Sadly, the practical difficulties of living on a budget in Rarotonga are taking their toll on our enjoyment of it. Gregg is bothered more because the heat is disturbing his sleep and poor sleep does not make him a happy boy. I would rather be cooler too. This is a beautiful island, but one much better suited, in my view, to tourists with pockets deep enough to cover mid range to high end accommodation and food. Catering for ourselves, it is difficult to find ingredients to produce meals of any considerable nutritional value and much easier and cheaper to survive on junk. So my cereal for breakfast was followed by cheese on toast for lunch and cheese omelette for dinner - see what I am getting at?

We both enjoy good food and that is definitely not what we are eating here. I bet the lovely looking restaurants that we ride past on the motorbike would satisfy our desires but the wallet wouldn’t much thank us for it.

It is such a shame, because the island is beautiful, the people are friendly and the sea is to die for but surroundings are only part of what makes a place.

Gregg’s day started with his first Rarotongan surf, whilst I stayed at the hostel and chatted some more to the English couple and did some washing (sweet relief). We do want to see this island so, once Gregg had fed himself on something resembling super noodles, we hopped on the bike and decided to take a drive along the inner road.

The main road circles the coast and an second road is set back less than half a mile from it which extends almost all of the way around the island at the foot of the volcanic mountain (probably a hill, really). This really was a delightful and peaceful drive. We passed congregation members scurrying into Sunday afternoon services (faith is still an important part of life here and the missionaries did a good job of spreading the word about Christianity) dressed in the Sunday best - long white dresses and hats for the ladies and smart shirts for the gents. The inner road took us past a football ground which was so well attended that, we figured, it must be hosting some kind of competition and, before we knew it, we were sneaking into the back of town where the inner road continues but is blocked by a gate that lets only pedestrians through. After a quick detour onto the main road, we found ourselves back on the inner road and enjoying the scenery once more. A hidden delight of this trip was the cooling effect of the air rushing past us - which even at max 40km/hr was a blessed relief.

Back at the ranch, the place seemed almost deserted, I think a lot of people have moved on to either LA or NZ in the last 24 hours and a sort of peacefulness has descended. Unfortunately, the room was still boiling so I spent the evening reading with the door wide open and Gregg joined some of the other guests to watch a film - The Men who stare at Goats (which is apparently ropey). Having the door open worked but as soon as we shut it to go to bed the temperature started creeping up again. Deep joy.

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Photos

Strange fruit of palm tree
surely, these things can't turn into coconuts?