We took in the sights along the promenade and ventured via taxi to La Boca, a small fishing village to the south of PV, where a colourful water taxi was to pilot us to lunch. The restaurant, only accessible by sea, promised to be a Michelin star experience.
As we approached the pier, murmurs of cancelled water taxis floated by us through the broken conversations of people heading away from our intentions. Jeanette, with us in tow, forged optimistically ahead..after all, we have a reservation. It seems that no amount of goodwill bestowed upon our hosts by the restaurant owners could stop mother nature from demonstrating her anger in the form of large and repetitive swells. No mas, there would be no mouth watering, taste bud enhanced lunch experience today.
No problem, there was always a backup plan. We just needed a driver, or the local bus to return us back to PV. It was agreed that the bus would be a nice little adventure. As we made our way back from the pier toward the bus stop, a local, entrepreneurial taxi driver intercepted us with an offer. He dressed in a nicely pressed white shirt adorned with vacant applets, white cotton pants which by some miracle of waistband starching, held his large soft taco indulged belly cantilevered at a cool ninety degrees from his waist. Through his brightly smiling face, he generously offers his services for 300 pesos. A full 100 pesos less then the ride from PV.
With a full explanation of our destination agreed to, we climbed into his van and waited. Seems our driver had to make last minute preparations before we could leave. The van was new enough, fairly neat in its display and the air conditioning worked. A number of warning lights on the dashboard flashed regularly, one emitting a high pitched beep lasting what seemed like a minute each time our driver slowed for a speed bump or pot hole.............which was a lot, given we are in Mexico. The trip took about 20 minutes, I was lucky enough to be sitting up front, closest to our driver, now known as Manuel. Jeanette was next closest, however it didn't much matter what your position was.......Manuel could project his voice. He must have trained as a Mariachi singer. We got to learn a lot about the man in 20 minutes. 8 children, a Christian, not a catholic. No way. He warned us to the ways of the Catholic taxi drivers. You know the type, promising a charge of x take you to y, only to stop en route to express that the destination was misunderstood. The new charge was X+50 pesos now. Terrible, unprofessional, a stain on the honour of the Mexican people. He being a good christian could not, would not tolerate this kind of Catholic thievery. A few minutes later he announced we had arrived.
Well not quite arrived as was originally agreed upon. Manuel professed innocence....Why didn't you say you wanted to go up the hill? I couldn't possibly take you that far for the agreed price...but for 50 pesos more... We started to laugh. We eventually arrived at our destination a few pesos short. LOL The restaurant was picture perfect. Not a tourist to be found except for us, of course. Situated on a spotless river, surrounded by jungle with a few small homes, we were treated to perfectly prepared fish tacos, fresh chips and salsa, and the best Margarita's I have every had. Yes more than one was required. We spent the rest of the sun filled afternoon enjoying the company and the surroundings. After a brisk walk back to town, Johanne and I flagged a good christian taxi back to the ship. No further incidents occurred. We wished our friends well and looked forward to a visit in more familiar territory back in Vancouver later in the year.
Back to the story. Upon arrival we inquired about luggage storage. None existed. Since 9/11 LAX had eliminated this service. We are a full 12 hours away from our scheduled departure of flight 184 on Air New Zealand non-stop service to Rarotonga, Cook Islands.
LAX does have free wifi, so we got online, rented a car and proceeded to the purple stop outside the Tom Bradley terminal. 30 minutes later we were on our way to Beverly Hills, just like the Clampets. Me Jethro, she Elle May or is it granny and Jake.........? Can you remember the theme song? I am sure some of you don't even know who I am referring too. We will just leave that information undisclosed. Given it was Sunday, most of Rodeo Drive was closed, we carried on along Sunset Drive towards the Pacific coast. Eventually connecting with US 1. Arguably, one of the most picturesque drives in the world. Malibu Beach is our target. The scenery didn't disappoint.
A long time ago, we camped in our RV (that was 1997, when we took a 6 months sabbatical and went touring the US with all the kids in tow) at a park along this coast...... we wondered if it was still there. Just passed the historic Malibu Beach Pier, we saw a sign announcing aforementioned park. Almost 20 years later the park still exists.. With the real estate prices in this crazy expensive area , the RV park has incredible views, completely unobstructed. I am sure the park must fall inside a state park boundary. It is about the only explanation why it still exists.
In fact the entire area evokes a feeling of a bygone era. The sunset was simply amazing. During our afternoon interlude we even had time to visit the Getty Villa. This former Getty home houses an impressive collection of Greek and Roman artifacts. The Villa is fashioned after the Villa dei Papiri, a Roman house country home in Herculaneum buried by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D.
Of course, much of the Villa dei Papiri, back in Italy, remains unexcavated. Many of the architectural details are based on elements drawn from other ancient Roman homes in the town of Pompeii. If you find yourself in the area with a few hours to spare, this is an interesting museum and well worth the visit. 15$ for parking and entrance. A bargain!
On a side note, Johanne and I will be in Pompeii in April, so we can compare the architectural style found here with the original. We will let you know whether Getty's architect did a flattering reconstruction. Lol.
If you find yourself at LAX with 5-6 hours to kill this is an easy and enjoyable diversion. A car for the day is about $50, it is easy to find the beach....... Just bring a towel and enjoy.
Back at the airport checked in and ready to go. Kind of cool. In the space of 24 hours we will be on three different Pacific ocean beaches.
After 9 hours of flying it is welcoming to inhale the salty fresh air of the Cook Islands. Best part....only 2 hours time difference! Landing was interesting. I was wondering where the landing strip was....to my right, I could see the mountainous island of Rarotonga, to my left, water which was becoming perilously close. Within seconds the runway appeared, and almost instantly we touched down, full brakes, full flaps required to bring this 767 to a stop. We made it with some room to spare. Exiting the plane on the tarmac, the first thing one notices is how simple the airport is. Only one plane is present, ours. The smiling ground hostess waving us to the arrivals hall. A Ukulele playing local musician and the traditional "lei" is part of the welcome. No heavy security, they do ask the important questions, mostly show us your return flight details. Seems too many have arrived, fell under the islands spell and never left. Luggage on hand we were spirited off to our hotel. What a view, 30 feet from the sea!!!!
Kia Orana is the proper way to address someone from the Cook's. It is also how you say Goodbye. It means "may you live long". An interesting substitute for hello and good bye. Cook Islander's don't believe in good byes, they believe they will see you again. If not here than in heaven. Kia Orana is the Polynesian way.
The Cook islands are found in the south Pacific ocean, west and south of Hawaii. There are 15 islands in total, an "ei" or necklace of islands open to all. The land mass of all the islands collectively is 240 square kms spread over and area of 2.25 million square kms. In other words, it is a miracle they were discovered at all. With so much water and to little land it would have been easy for Captain Cook to miss them. Many of the islands are uninhabited. Rarotonga, is the capital and the largest island. The total population is around 15,000. Small by any standard. The native language is Maori, the locals switch back and forth from Maori to English quite easily, so communication is a breeze.
First impressions are lasting. The islands are natural, not commercialized, local. You will not find a towering resort, a casino, a MacDonald's, a Costco, etc. Every business is owned by a
local and run by a local. Everyone knows everyone. They smile all the time. The pace is slow not lazy slow just relaxed, happy, at peace. It is hard to gear down at first. We have arrived now, we want to do something, anything!!
After the overnight flight, you should think we would be fatigued. Not so, in spite of the journey is is only two hours earlier than West coast time and we slept 6 of the 9 hours! We are ready to get some exploring in. Leaving our hotel we have two choices, right or left, or as the islanders call it clockwise or anti clockwise. Town was clockwise so we headed in that direction.
It is about 6kms to the only town on the island..... In spite of the early hour, 10am, it was hot, humid heat. The ocean breeze provided some comfort as we took in our new surroundings. Ocean to our left, mountains to our right, both sides of the street offered a variety of restaurants, hotels, car and scooter rentals as well as local residences.
The sea has two personalities, calm and inviting on the land side of the reef and angry and wild where the open ocean meets the corral. The colours are amazing, water so clear you can see the fish swimming. After an hour or so of walking, we arrived at the southern edge of the town of Avarua. The port greets us at the intersection of Ara Tapu Road and Ruatonga Road, the former being the main drag. Small shops, takeaway restaurants, grocery stores and the now mostly empty Punanga Nui Market dominate the downtown side of the town. 500 metres later we are in the uptown side of the town. The business side of town, police, courthouse, post office, university, cinema a few more shops and finally Trader Jacks, one of the more notable drinking establishment.
For tourists, finding your way around is simple. One main Street, one town 32 kms of road, no way to get lost. There is a bus service that runs in each direction, once per hour, they will stop and pick you up wherever you wish, just wave them down. The drivers are super friendly, a mine of funny facts and information and will even serenade you while you ride. A ride costs $5 one way or $8 return, not really a bargain. Buy a book of 10 rides for $30 is quite reasonable, or be prepared to walk....... a lot.
The Islander's are super friendly, and kind. On our way back to the hotel, we missed the bus. A lady noticing our slow gait and our glistening skin from the considerable humidity, opened her door and offered us a ride. "Kia Orana" she says smiling, should you like a ride? Where are you headed? We said we are OK, feeling the cool air bellowing from her air-conditioning system. Maybe it was the sweat dropping from my face or the envy in our eyes..... as she said "nonsense your hotel is a long way, get in I will drive you". So we did. We found out our driver was a native who had been away, living in the USA for the past 40 years, now retired and living in this peaceful paradise. It was a story we would hear many more times during our stay. It seems that the ancestral pull is strong in the Cook's. People leave to learn and work but many return to enjoy the simple life that the islands provide.
I will admit it took more than a few days to get comfortable with the easy pace of this place. The natural surroundings becoming more and more pleasing as days rolled on. What does one do here? Good question. Explore the miles of deserted beaches, walk the many nature trails through the dense jungle, snorkel the amazing corral laden lagoons, take in a cultural show, rent a scooter, mountain bike with a storyteller, take a walk on the inner road with a guide who will point out the different vegetation, go deep sea fishing or just enjoy a good book on the beach. Of course there is the eating.
We found the hotel restaurants to be better than the independent choices and the pricing about the same. Make sure you have the raw fish. A form of ceviche, with the addition of fresh coconut milk as a welcome accompaniment to the lime juice. Have a burger at a roadside stand. Or enjoy a dinner out at the Muri Beach night market. Not a market for shopping just pop up food shacks. If you are thirsty while you are at the market, walk about 100 metres down the road to the dairy shop (7-11 in our area) and grab a couple of Heineken (2.50 a piece) to help wash down the food of your choice. One thing that is very apparent here, almost everything you eat is local. New Zealand beef and lamb might be the only exception.
I don't think of myself as a church goer, however it is an experience to attend the local Christian service while visiting. The islands are very religious. More than 14 different church groups are evident here. The service we attended was the Cook Island Christian Church, the largest denomination on the island. The church looks like any other, but with an island flair. White washed exterior walls with blue highlight mosaics painted on the interior walls and ceiling. The colourful stained glass windows, starting at waist height and reaching 20 ft upwards are opened wide, to let the sea breeze cool the parishioners in their Sunday's best. Women, adorned in bright hand painted pareu's or sarongs, their heads decorated with woven rito hats, from the North islands, wrapped in colourful flower lei's. While the dress is noteworthy, it is the singing that really strikes a chord. The women begin each song, magically queued by the Reverend. Their sounds in perfect harmony, high pitched, sharp tones but with a softness that affords a pleasant welcoming rhythm when blended together. The men answer the women's song, their response deep bass like and more drum then melody. The combination of the two locks your senses, it is a very spiritual moment.
The service is conducted in Maori and English. Which makes for a long morning, arrival 10am and expect to be there until noon! From the Edgewater Hotel, where we stayed, it is about a 20 minutes walk......the hotel shuttle is $10.00 a person return. So we walked, the regular bus never runs on Sunday. The English sermon was delivered in a quiet respectful, sleepy manner. The kind of presentation that would help any insomniac break their habit. The Maori version, on the other hand, is considerably different. Understanding the words are not required to grasp the power of the delivery. Hands flying, the preacher's voice blustering up and down to emphasize the message. His face brighting, in crescendo, at one point I thought he might blow up...... as his skin looked flushed and under insurmountable pressure. Just when it looked like he was about to burst, all was calm again. After the suitable messages were shared, the songs began again. Near the end of the service, the Reverend thanks the visitor's for attending and extends an invitation to join the parishioners for lunch. Which we did....... A huge spread, BBQ chicken, roasted pig, salads, fish, fruit, tea, and deserts. As guests, we were made very welcome. If you are in the Cook's this is a must do. Who knows you might be born again while there...worst case you will leave happy and well feed.
I mentioned the police station earlier. You need to know where to find this place if you plan to rent a scooter. There is lots of rental shops...they can deliver a temporary license if you don't have a motorcycle license from Canada. You then have 24 hours to get to the police station to take a written and on-road test before getting your Cook island motorcycle license (valid for a year).
The written test contains 25 questions of which you are allowed two errors. One must purchase the drivers handbook prior to writing said test. The book cost $15. The test costs $5. The driving part of the process requires you to drive in a straight line down a road on the side of the police station, at the end you make a U-turn without touching the ground with your feet or any other part of your body, then proceed back to the starting point coming to a full stop. Once completed, pay $20 for the driving test and $5 administration, bingo you have a license. Bottom line, it cost $50 to get a license to drive for a scooter that will cost $12.00 a day to rent. Don't bother with a helmet, you only need it for roads over 50kms and none of the scooters will ever go that fast even if you were to go to the top of the biggest hill. Still, beats walking......Johanne prefers walking though after the crash we witnessed in Koh Samui, Thailand years ago (It wasn't us but a crazy driver just slid for 500 meters in the rain, just in front tof us) ..........scary!
Be well
Kia Orana
No comments:
Post a Comment