So we set off from Jenny & Ben's and head for Rotorua - a four hour drive north east. El Presidente/Mugabe is on good form though we find it impossible to pick up a radio station. Every once in a while we burst into "The road is long ... with many a winding turn" and then hum for a bit cause neither of us knows the rest of the words.
We pull out of a junction and the next thing we hear is a thunderous horn. "What the hell?" I look in my mirror and see nothing but the silver grill plate of a massive truck. "Keep yer knickers on rubber ducky" Sinead shouts. The truck proceeds to chase us down until we get to a hill, where it obviously struggles."Ha ha sucker. You're no match for El Presidente," Sinead sings out. She puts the foot down and we blast on over the hill.
We arrive in Rotorua and check into the 'Budget Backpackers' - the clue is in the name people - (Sinead arranged the second half of the trip and is loving my reaction). "C'mon Lis, it'll be an experience" she laughs, "just embrace it."
I don't think this place is ready for the Louis Vuitton luggage, though - annoyingly - Sinead has been referring to it as the 'Louis Walsh' ever since we left which has taken a lot of the glamour out of it. I'll never look at the bag the same way again.
The guy on reception takes us to our room. It's like a nun's bedroom. Shin sits down on her bed and practically sinks to the floor. Then bursts out laughing. "Embrace the softest beds in the world Lis."
We head along the corridor and out the back door to get the bags from Mugabe. As we pass the last room on the left we catch sight of something neither of us is prepared for and causes us to look at each other and say "Did you just see that?'
It was an old fat naked guy sitting in his pants watching TV with his door open. I'm loving this place more and more.
We quickly pack our swim stuff into our bags and head along the road to sample the hot springs at the Polynesian Spa. This is more like it. We get changed. Shin is in one of the cubicles and an old Japanese woman knocks on her door. Shin pops her head out, looks surprised, then proceeds to stare the old woman down until she walks away.
We walk outside to the thermal pools and get in the first one - 36 degrees. "Lis, did you see all those Japanese women washing each other in the showers?" "No." "Aye, they were all totally washing each other and one woman was bent over and another was totally scrubbing her back like this," Sinead demonstrates vigorous scrubbing action with her two fists. "There can't be any need for that. I mean, she's only been sitting in the Spa not oot pickin rice. And there was another woman, did you see her, totally in the buff and staring at me like I was the freak. I just thought, check you hen, you're the one with your tits oot. I'm not into this Lis, I dinae need to be seeing anyone's muff or their swinging pups. Put them away. There's just no need."
Sinead calms down a bit and we enjoy the springs and the cool breeze. An older woman (60s) woman with a crocodile Dundee hat and a pair of safety goggles from the science classroom is in the spa with her husband/partner. She starts chewing on his ear and Sinead says loudly "Oh my God. Check crocodile Dundee. she's sucking his ears. We're in the bloody love spa. There's just no need." The couple leaves shortly afterward.
Across from us is a woman recovering from a nose job - or a mugging. She's all bandaged up with black eyes and is reading the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Sinead leans over and says "I think she needs to read a few more chapters."
The Japanese pensioners all come running out enmasse and get into the pool with their sun visors. We take this as our cue to head into the 38 degree pool. There are a few Scandinavians in here and Shin keeps telling me they all want to talk to me cause they think I'm one of their own. A Japanese woman comes in and practically sits on Shin's knee. I spot the signature eye roll followed by the disbelieving head shake. Then, a Japanese man in tight shorts with nothing to show for it, tries to sit on my knee so we get out and jump into the 40 degree pool.
We hang out here for a while but decide we need to take a breather before getting into the hottest pool - 42 degrees. After about 10 mins sitting on the sidelines and a couple of glasses of water, we get in. It feels really hot and my pink legs aren't thanking me for it. We persevere though and my back rejoices when I submerge myself.
Soon afterwards, two elderly Scandinavian women join us. They are finding it a bit too hot. Then the husband of one of the women appears and tells his wife she's got to get in because he wants to take a picture of her. She says it's too hot but he persists so she edges in ever more deeply. "Your position is no good for the sun," he declares and makes her get in further. Then he tells to get lower. "Down, down, lower, left a bit. Finally, he gets his shot and his wife is free to go running from the pool.
"Well, he obviously gets her to do everything he wants," Shin says loudly and with more than a hint of disgust. I agree. "If I were her, I would just give him those same instructions back tonight." Shin shakes her head at me disappointingly.
We finish off our replenishing experience with some fresh fruit juices before heading back to the backpackers. The old fat naked guy is still sitting in his pants watching TV. Shin looks in as she passes :"He's wearing a baseball cap and has long brown hair," she reports.
We lock ourselves in our tiny spartan room and start laughing hysterically. "I feel like we're in prison, Lis."
"I'm embracing it Shin, I'm embracing it."
Monday, January 14, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
El Presidente
We flew out of Rarotonga at 6am. The flight to Auckland was only 4 hours, but as we crossed the date line - we actually jumped ahead by 22 hours which was quite surreal.
We picked up the car at the airport. Total Dad mobile! It's comedy. Sinead noticed a plastic pointy thing attached to the front left hand side of the bonnet. "What's that?" "It looks like something you'd stick a flag in." "Oh my god, we've got some kind of government car." Sinead spots, quite hilariously, that the car looks like an African presidential car so we christen El Presidente and refer to it as such on our trip to New Plymouth.
We meet Jenny and Ben at the port in New Plymouth and jump onto their sailing boat. After a little bit of drama trying to get it started and worrying about the fact that the tide was going out and we were only 12 inches of the bottom, we got going and headed out to sea.
I enjoyed my early tasks of pulling the rope to raise the sail and winding something up and sat back with a lime flavoured beer. It was all very pleasant. Then it got a bit choppy. Suddenly I didn't feel so good anymore and went all quiet. Sinead, realising this was an unusual phenomenon, asked if I was OK. At which point, I immediately stuck my head off the side and threw up. I continued to do this until we got back to shore. I don't think sailing is for me.
Back at Jenny and Ben's place, we got a tour of their enormous and beautiful garden. They cooked up a storm on the BBQ - chicken, prawns, scallops, halloumi, spring onions and mushrooms. We sat on the veranda with all the fairy lights, stuffed ourselves and finished the night off with a game of Shanghai darts. Sinead impressively emerged victorious.
Today we caught up on some much needed sleep and went for a walk along surf beach. It was nice lying in the sun and it wasn't unbearably hot because of the breeze from the sea. I managed to remedy some of the tanning issues so I shouldn't look too bad when I get home. When I stood up to walk on the sand it was boiling and I could still feel it through my Haviannas. We're going to have to be extra careful.
Tomorrow morning we set off for Rotorua and are looking forward to some high octane activities and a dip at the Polynesian Spa. I might even treat myself to another massage.
We picked up the car at the airport. Total Dad mobile! It's comedy. Sinead noticed a plastic pointy thing attached to the front left hand side of the bonnet. "What's that?" "It looks like something you'd stick a flag in." "Oh my god, we've got some kind of government car." Sinead spots, quite hilariously, that the car looks like an African presidential car so we christen El Presidente and refer to it as such on our trip to New Plymouth.
We meet Jenny and Ben at the port in New Plymouth and jump onto their sailing boat. After a little bit of drama trying to get it started and worrying about the fact that the tide was going out and we were only 12 inches of the bottom, we got going and headed out to sea.
I enjoyed my early tasks of pulling the rope to raise the sail and winding something up and sat back with a lime flavoured beer. It was all very pleasant. Then it got a bit choppy. Suddenly I didn't feel so good anymore and went all quiet. Sinead, realising this was an unusual phenomenon, asked if I was OK. At which point, I immediately stuck my head off the side and threw up. I continued to do this until we got back to shore. I don't think sailing is for me.
Back at Jenny and Ben's place, we got a tour of their enormous and beautiful garden. They cooked up a storm on the BBQ - chicken, prawns, scallops, halloumi, spring onions and mushrooms. We sat on the veranda with all the fairy lights, stuffed ourselves and finished the night off with a game of Shanghai darts. Sinead impressively emerged victorious.
Today we caught up on some much needed sleep and went for a walk along surf beach. It was nice lying in the sun and it wasn't unbearably hot because of the breeze from the sea. I managed to remedy some of the tanning issues so I shouldn't look too bad when I get home. When I stood up to walk on the sand it was boiling and I could still feel it through my Haviannas. We're going to have to be extra careful.
Tomorrow morning we set off for Rotorua and are looking forward to some high octane activities and a dip at the Polynesian Spa. I might even treat myself to another massage.
The trouble with coconuts
Our last day on Aitutaki and it's a scorcher. We're up early and I make French toast and omelette. We head out to the ... Post Office (how exciting is that?) and I buy some rare stamps for my pension. We stop by the spider cafe to check the email for NZ arrangements and let the warm breeze blow through our hair as we ride back to the beach hut.
Sinead asks Solo, the owner of the hut, if we can take a bit longer with our packing. "Sure," he says, "you ladies take all day. No hurry. I will take you to the airport at 6pm." Cool.
I mention to Shin for the 20th time that I can't believe my boss hasn't even acknowledged receipt of my resignation email. What if I was just joking? "It was really polite and everything." Sinead agrees it's a poor show. "Oh, I've got that picture of me writing 'I Resigned' in the sand on Honeymoon Island," I say excitedly - "Let's look at it." We do. It looks really cool. Well, until I zoom in a bit. I can't remember if I actually shrieked but Sinead got a fright. "What is it?"
"Oh my God. Do I really look like that?" Sinead took the camera from me and looked at it - nonplussed - "aye."
The photo is hideously hilarious. I'm wearing shorts (never a good thing for a start) which show off to glaring effect my burning red thighs. Nice. It would be a bit better if the red thighs continued all the way up to meet the shorts. They don't. There's a nice white section before you get there. My calves are riddled with red lumpy mosquito bites and - just to top it all off - the bruise I got on the side of my right knee whilst cycling in San Francisco is practically winking at the camera and shouting "look at me. I'm all huge and black and blue and yellow." Lovely.
We're both hysterical and Shin is laughing so hard she's not making any noise anymore and there are little tiny tears running down her face.
"Well, I can't show anyone that." I say quite definitely.
Shin is flicking through the rest of the photos and keeps erupting with laughter. She's holding the camera out to me and shuddering violently.
I look at the picture. It's one of me sitting on the veranda in my sun hat and shades. Obviously thinking I look so damn fine. But I really don't. There's an array of different strap marks, about 5 different shades of pink and some white patches.
I choke. "I look like Bubbles DeVere from Little Britain." Shin falls off the bed laughing. I'm laughing too but there's a sadness in there as well.
When I was in Mexico I got a brilliant tan. Mostly because all I did for 2 weeks was flip myself over on the lilo every 20 minutes whilst floating around the pool. (it was a time of contemplation and reflection.) Even then though, I was wearing different bikini bottoms each day with the result that slightly more or less of my ass was being covered at different times. The end result was a really deep tan on the outermost part, followed by some pink, before getting to milky white. "Oh my God. I've got a neopoli-tan." I must say it was a talking point amongst everyone who saw my ass over the next few months. I told one of my friends about it and she still serves up Neapolitan ice cream occasionally when I go for dinner.
After Sinead and I's giggle fest, Shin headed out in the kayak and I hung out the washing. I was at the beginning of the line when I heard a loud crack. I looked up and saw a coconut hurtling towards me from the tree. It fell about 6 inches away and, still spinning, rolled towards me and slammed into my inside right ankle. It was agony. It broke the skin too so it stings when I spray on the mosquito repellent. I guess that will be another cracker for the photos. Just 6 inches and it would have landed on my head and, probably, killed me, Imagine that, killed by a coconut whilst hanging out your washing. I'm soooo not in Scotland.
Oh, I got stung or bitten on the thumb by something at Aitutaki airport just before I boarded my flight to Rarotonga. My thumb isn't sore but it's pretty swollen. It's turning more and more purple by the hour. Sinead says she's going to stick a hot pin in it, but I think that's just to satisfy her sadistic tendencies. The thumb still seems to work, so I'm not that worried.
Next stop - Surf Highway, New Zealand. Bring it on.
Sinead asks Solo, the owner of the hut, if we can take a bit longer with our packing. "Sure," he says, "you ladies take all day. No hurry. I will take you to the airport at 6pm." Cool.
I mention to Shin for the 20th time that I can't believe my boss hasn't even acknowledged receipt of my resignation email. What if I was just joking? "It was really polite and everything." Sinead agrees it's a poor show. "Oh, I've got that picture of me writing 'I Resigned' in the sand on Honeymoon Island," I say excitedly - "Let's look at it." We do. It looks really cool. Well, until I zoom in a bit. I can't remember if I actually shrieked but Sinead got a fright. "What is it?"
"Oh my God. Do I really look like that?" Sinead took the camera from me and looked at it - nonplussed - "aye."
The photo is hideously hilarious. I'm wearing shorts (never a good thing for a start) which show off to glaring effect my burning red thighs. Nice. It would be a bit better if the red thighs continued all the way up to meet the shorts. They don't. There's a nice white section before you get there. My calves are riddled with red lumpy mosquito bites and - just to top it all off - the bruise I got on the side of my right knee whilst cycling in San Francisco is practically winking at the camera and shouting "look at me. I'm all huge and black and blue and yellow." Lovely.
We're both hysterical and Shin is laughing so hard she's not making any noise anymore and there are little tiny tears running down her face.
"Well, I can't show anyone that." I say quite definitely.
Shin is flicking through the rest of the photos and keeps erupting with laughter. She's holding the camera out to me and shuddering violently.
I look at the picture. It's one of me sitting on the veranda in my sun hat and shades. Obviously thinking I look so damn fine. But I really don't. There's an array of different strap marks, about 5 different shades of pink and some white patches.
I choke. "I look like Bubbles DeVere from Little Britain." Shin falls off the bed laughing. I'm laughing too but there's a sadness in there as well.
When I was in Mexico I got a brilliant tan. Mostly because all I did for 2 weeks was flip myself over on the lilo every 20 minutes whilst floating around the pool. (it was a time of contemplation and reflection.) Even then though, I was wearing different bikini bottoms each day with the result that slightly more or less of my ass was being covered at different times. The end result was a really deep tan on the outermost part, followed by some pink, before getting to milky white. "Oh my God. I've got a neopoli-tan." I must say it was a talking point amongst everyone who saw my ass over the next few months. I told one of my friends about it and she still serves up Neapolitan ice cream occasionally when I go for dinner.
After Sinead and I's giggle fest, Shin headed out in the kayak and I hung out the washing. I was at the beginning of the line when I heard a loud crack. I looked up and saw a coconut hurtling towards me from the tree. It fell about 6 inches away and, still spinning, rolled towards me and slammed into my inside right ankle. It was agony. It broke the skin too so it stings when I spray on the mosquito repellent. I guess that will be another cracker for the photos. Just 6 inches and it would have landed on my head and, probably, killed me, Imagine that, killed by a coconut whilst hanging out your washing. I'm soooo not in Scotland.
Oh, I got stung or bitten on the thumb by something at Aitutaki airport just before I boarded my flight to Rarotonga. My thumb isn't sore but it's pretty swollen. It's turning more and more purple by the hour. Sinead says she's going to stick a hot pin in it, but I think that's just to satisfy her sadistic tendencies. The thumb still seems to work, so I'm not that worried.
Next stop - Surf Highway, New Zealand. Bring it on.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Paradise Baby
Spent the last two days exploring the island of Aitutaki - firstly inland on our mopeds and then on the water courtesy of a lagoon cruise.
It was brilliant touring on the bikes and we kept stopping off for quality photo opportunities. I didn't even realise the sun was out but soon discovered that I had a nice red v on my chest and some strap marks.
That night we drove to Cafe Tapuna which is one of the nicer eateries on the island. It's a little bit out of the way, but I had a quick look at the map and was convinced I could get us there. We set off and I felt cool as anything. Going along on my moped with my pink capris, white t-shirt, white headband and big shades.
After a little detour, we arrived safe and sound. It was lovely with lots of little fairy lights and set in what felt like the middle of the jungle. I had tiger prawn and scallop kebabs with a lime, mango and fennel dressing - totally ace. I couldn't resist having a desert too - brandy baked banana (totally sublime). Shin wanted a beer and I didn't fancy a whole bottle of vino to myself again so I ordered a rum and coke. I think it had about 3 measures in it - nearly blew my head off.
Oh well, back on the bikes. By now it was totally dark and it felt really exciting. This only made me feel even cooler than I already did. 20 mins later we were back at the beach hut. "Lis, you're hilarious on that bike." "What do you mean?" "You're all upright and straight like ... Miss Jean Brodie." "Miss Jean Brodie??? That's not cool at all. I thought I looked all cool." "Well. maybe like Penelope Pitstop then." "Oh that's cooler. We'll go with that."
On the lagoon cruise yesterday. It was fantastic and way better than I thought it would be. We did some snorkelling and I fed the fish. Shinbob was a big woose and was squealing and stuff. Then Kimi, our guide, took us to the Giant Clam and said we could tickle it. We were ending ourselves, but we did it. It was really slimy and pulsed a lot when you touched it. Ha ha.
We sailed onto One Foot Island which was total paradise on earth. Nothing I've seen comes close to how perfect it was. Absolutely amazing. The stuff of dreams.
Puna's wife (Puna is the tour operator by the way. Kimi the driver is his brother) cooked the most fantastic lunch ever. There was yellow fin tuna steaks, potato salad, coleslaw, vegetable frittatas, and these amazing banana pancakes. Honestly, it was better than any of the restaurants on the island. I was trying to convince her to open up on her own or at least write a cook book. I told Puna when we got back and he was all proud of his wife. It was totally lovely.
We took our passports to the post office on One Foot Island and got them stamped. It's soooo cool.
There was a really annoying Dutch woman on the boat and a Swedish mum who stripped naked to put on her bikini, but I'll Shin fill you in on that as her rendition is hilarious. My shocking tan marks were commented on by everyone. Shin got all protective of me and said: "I don't think it needs to be spoken about at every opportunity." The irritating Dutch woman asked if I had my sunblock sarcastically. Sinead said: "I'm going to ask her if she's got a plastic surgeon's phone number!"
Right, off to go find some bread so I can make poached eggs for breakfast. Woo hoo!
It was brilliant touring on the bikes and we kept stopping off for quality photo opportunities. I didn't even realise the sun was out but soon discovered that I had a nice red v on my chest and some strap marks.
That night we drove to Cafe Tapuna which is one of the nicer eateries on the island. It's a little bit out of the way, but I had a quick look at the map and was convinced I could get us there. We set off and I felt cool as anything. Going along on my moped with my pink capris, white t-shirt, white headband and big shades.
After a little detour, we arrived safe and sound. It was lovely with lots of little fairy lights and set in what felt like the middle of the jungle. I had tiger prawn and scallop kebabs with a lime, mango and fennel dressing - totally ace. I couldn't resist having a desert too - brandy baked banana (totally sublime). Shin wanted a beer and I didn't fancy a whole bottle of vino to myself again so I ordered a rum and coke. I think it had about 3 measures in it - nearly blew my head off.
Oh well, back on the bikes. By now it was totally dark and it felt really exciting. This only made me feel even cooler than I already did. 20 mins later we were back at the beach hut. "Lis, you're hilarious on that bike." "What do you mean?" "You're all upright and straight like ... Miss Jean Brodie." "Miss Jean Brodie??? That's not cool at all. I thought I looked all cool." "Well. maybe like Penelope Pitstop then." "Oh that's cooler. We'll go with that."
On the lagoon cruise yesterday. It was fantastic and way better than I thought it would be. We did some snorkelling and I fed the fish. Shinbob was a big woose and was squealing and stuff. Then Kimi, our guide, took us to the Giant Clam and said we could tickle it. We were ending ourselves, but we did it. It was really slimy and pulsed a lot when you touched it. Ha ha.
We sailed onto One Foot Island which was total paradise on earth. Nothing I've seen comes close to how perfect it was. Absolutely amazing. The stuff of dreams.
Puna's wife (Puna is the tour operator by the way. Kimi the driver is his brother) cooked the most fantastic lunch ever. There was yellow fin tuna steaks, potato salad, coleslaw, vegetable frittatas, and these amazing banana pancakes. Honestly, it was better than any of the restaurants on the island. I was trying to convince her to open up on her own or at least write a cook book. I told Puna when we got back and he was all proud of his wife. It was totally lovely.
We took our passports to the post office on One Foot Island and got them stamped. It's soooo cool.
There was a really annoying Dutch woman on the boat and a Swedish mum who stripped naked to put on her bikini, but I'll Shin fill you in on that as her rendition is hilarious. My shocking tan marks were commented on by everyone. Shin got all protective of me and said: "I don't think it needs to be spoken about at every opportunity." The irritating Dutch woman asked if I had my sunblock sarcastically. Sinead said: "I'm going to ask her if she's got a plastic surgeon's phone number!"
Right, off to go find some bread so I can make poached eggs for breakfast. Woo hoo!
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Moped madness
On Saturday, Sinead pulls the kayak out from under the beach hut and sets off to explore the lagoon. She comes back saying how good it is and that I should do it too, but I'm happy sitting on the verandah doing a little bit of writing. I tell her to kayak out to the big rock and I'll time her to see how long it takes. She does and she takes only 8 mins and 58 seconds which is pretty impressive - and way quicker than I thought it would take.
Can't remember the last time I felt this chilled and relaxed. Anyway, it's surprisingly tiring doing nothing so I go for a siesta. Such an indulgence. Anyway, my siesta lasts 4 hours and probably would have gone on longer had it not been for a man knocking on the door. He was here to deliver Sinead's moped. She rushes off to "play with her new toy" and I flop back down on my bed, staring out to the palm trees and crystal clear water of the lagoon and thinking about people dying of weird tropical illnesses.
Sinead comes back. "How did you get on?" I ask. "Brilliant," she says, "I've found somewhere to have dinner and I saw a goat having a shit." "Excellent."
I go to dry my hair and blow the fuse in my adapter. No hairdryer+No straighteners= cotton wool perm head. We get ready and head out on the bike. Sinead is a bit worried about being responsible for my safety. But I'm not bothered. I get on the back of the bike and we start off along the road. Sinead asks me to open my legs a bit wider at which point I start laughing, she starts laughing and we nearly crash the bike.
We get to the restaurant and I'm feeling all native and ambitious so I order the ika mata (raw tuna marinated in lime juice mixed with coconut cream, diced onion, tomatoes and shredded carrot). It was delicious and really refreshing.
Responsible Shinbob limits herself to 1 beer and they don't serve pinot noir by the glass, so naturally I have to have the bottle. At 10pm we leave the restaurant and enter a tropical storm. Sinead is driving the moped in the pitch dark through the lashing rain with a passenger on the back - who is a risk-taking adrenalin junkie at the best of times never mind when she has a bottle of wine in her.
"Faster Shin, faster!"
"Are you even holding on?"
"I am. I only need to hold on with one hand. "
"Both hands, Lis. Both hands. I mean it!"
I'm telling you, Shin is a total Nazi on a bike. When we got back to the beach hut she told me that I had to get my own bike tomorrow.
On Sunday, I awake to find the ants and mozzies have all been to worship at the temple of Lisa. I have loads of huge bites. Mostly on my thighs and feet, but 2 real crackers on my forehead. Between the frizzbomb hair and the bites, I'm looking particularly attractive in the Cook Islands.
My bike arrives and we head off along the eastern part of the island. We have a fab Sunday BBQ and do some swimming. I'm loving this moped business, and as we ride along parallel with the air strip I come over all Steve McQueen and knock it up to 43 mph. They don't give out crash helmets here and if you go above 40 kmph you get booked by the police - for not wearing a crash helmet. Ooooh life on the edge. The fact that I'm wearing tiny shorts and a t-shirt with no protective gear whatsoever and that a fall would render me skinless only serves to heighten the excitement.
The clouds above the airstrip look ominous. We decide to stop in at a shop for some biscuits. As I'm putting them under my bike seat I say to Sinead: "We'll make it back just before the rain starts." 30 seconds later, the heavens open and 3,000 gallons of water is emptied directly onto our heads. We keep going - though all my clothes are sticking to me and the rain seems to be pooling in my eyes. I realise that I can't actually see anything anymore and I, unfortunately, have no window wipers on my eyes. Sinead is obviously in the same predicament and I see she's come to a halt just ahead of me.
We pull the bikes in off the road and take shelter under the over-sized roof of some building. I've never been so wet in my entire life. It's a full 10 mins before the heaviest of the rain passes. We get on the bikes again and try to get back to the hut as quickly as possible. The rain is still driving and my contact lenses are suffering but we plough on regardless. Finally, we're back and as we both turn off our engines, all I can hear is the sound of our own hysterical giggles.
It's pretty damn good when getting drenched in a rainstorm is this much fun.
Hot shower, tea and a tim tam later and I'm feeling brand new.
Can't remember the last time I felt this chilled and relaxed. Anyway, it's surprisingly tiring doing nothing so I go for a siesta. Such an indulgence. Anyway, my siesta lasts 4 hours and probably would have gone on longer had it not been for a man knocking on the door. He was here to deliver Sinead's moped. She rushes off to "play with her new toy" and I flop back down on my bed, staring out to the palm trees and crystal clear water of the lagoon and thinking about people dying of weird tropical illnesses.
Sinead comes back. "How did you get on?" I ask. "Brilliant," she says, "I've found somewhere to have dinner and I saw a goat having a shit." "Excellent."
I go to dry my hair and blow the fuse in my adapter. No hairdryer+No straighteners= cotton wool perm head. We get ready and head out on the bike. Sinead is a bit worried about being responsible for my safety. But I'm not bothered. I get on the back of the bike and we start off along the road. Sinead asks me to open my legs a bit wider at which point I start laughing, she starts laughing and we nearly crash the bike.
We get to the restaurant and I'm feeling all native and ambitious so I order the ika mata (raw tuna marinated in lime juice mixed with coconut cream, diced onion, tomatoes and shredded carrot). It was delicious and really refreshing.
Responsible Shinbob limits herself to 1 beer and they don't serve pinot noir by the glass, so naturally I have to have the bottle. At 10pm we leave the restaurant and enter a tropical storm. Sinead is driving the moped in the pitch dark through the lashing rain with a passenger on the back - who is a risk-taking adrenalin junkie at the best of times never mind when she has a bottle of wine in her.
"Faster Shin, faster!"
"Are you even holding on?"
"I am. I only need to hold on with one hand. "
"Both hands, Lis. Both hands. I mean it!"
I'm telling you, Shin is a total Nazi on a bike. When we got back to the beach hut she told me that I had to get my own bike tomorrow.
On Sunday, I awake to find the ants and mozzies have all been to worship at the temple of Lisa. I have loads of huge bites. Mostly on my thighs and feet, but 2 real crackers on my forehead. Between the frizzbomb hair and the bites, I'm looking particularly attractive in the Cook Islands.
My bike arrives and we head off along the eastern part of the island. We have a fab Sunday BBQ and do some swimming. I'm loving this moped business, and as we ride along parallel with the air strip I come over all Steve McQueen and knock it up to 43 mph. They don't give out crash helmets here and if you go above 40 kmph you get booked by the police - for not wearing a crash helmet. Ooooh life on the edge. The fact that I'm wearing tiny shorts and a t-shirt with no protective gear whatsoever and that a fall would render me skinless only serves to heighten the excitement.
The clouds above the airstrip look ominous. We decide to stop in at a shop for some biscuits. As I'm putting them under my bike seat I say to Sinead: "We'll make it back just before the rain starts." 30 seconds later, the heavens open and 3,000 gallons of water is emptied directly onto our heads. We keep going - though all my clothes are sticking to me and the rain seems to be pooling in my eyes. I realise that I can't actually see anything anymore and I, unfortunately, have no window wipers on my eyes. Sinead is obviously in the same predicament and I see she's come to a halt just ahead of me.
We pull the bikes in off the road and take shelter under the over-sized roof of some building. I've never been so wet in my entire life. It's a full 10 mins before the heaviest of the rain passes. We get on the bikes again and try to get back to the hut as quickly as possible. The rain is still driving and my contact lenses are suffering but we plough on regardless. Finally, we're back and as we both turn off our engines, all I can hear is the sound of our own hysterical giggles.
It's pretty damn good when getting drenched in a rainstorm is this much fun.
Hot shower, tea and a tim tam later and I'm feeling brand new.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Island living
The 10-hour flight from LA to Raratonga is the most consistently turbulent I've ever been on, but I'm now such a world traveller I don't even bat an eyelid. I even manage to sleep.
We touch down in Raratonga at 04.30am and walk across the tarmac to the small wooden building. It's warm and I immediately feel the moisture in the air. My hair reacts to this by separating and curling in on itself in some kind of lazy welcoming gesture. There's a guy in a hawaiian shirt singing some polynesian songs. Nice - but bizarre! I did say it was 0430.
We've got 3.5 hours before our flight to Aitutaki so I go to the toilets a few times to check on my hair. It's not good. It's tied back but what's left hanging down has separated into distinct little sections, gone totally wavy and slapped itself to the side of my head. For someone with little enough hair as it is,this is a very bad look.
At five to eight we board our tiny plane. I've barely sat down and put on my seatbelt when it starts heading out along the runway. I like their no nonsense style. A scant 40 mins later and we're crusing over the island of Aitutaki. It's totally breathtaking even in spite of the slightly overcast sky.
Another tiny wooden hut, another guy serenading us. There's not even a baggage carousel - you've just got to help yourself off the back of the luggage truck. The owner of the beach hut we're staying at picks us up at the airport and takes us to the supermarket to stock up on supplies. It's pricy since they import pretty much everything. There's no fresh milk on the island and I notice they even import their eggs. This surprises me since there are chickens and hens running about everywhere. Surely it can't be that difficult to organise.
On our way back to the beach hut, our host takes us to somewhere called Puffy's where we're getting a complimentary dinner at the local island night that evening. Sinead's mumbling something about not trusting our host and Puffy's looking dodgy but all I can think is how much the woman at Puffy's looks like an American football.
We get back to the beach hut and have showers. Having been on the go for about 24 hours straight, we're exhausted and decide to have a little snooze. Sinead is suddenly jealous of my eye mask (after having taking the piss for months) and asks if I have a spare. I do, and give this to her. She declares it a "revelation" and promptly falls asleep.
I wake up about 7 hours later and get ready for dinner. The hair is straightened and I put on some make-up , get the contact lenses in and feel much, much better.
We set off from the beach hut and realise it's pitch black. There are absolutely no street lights. We're walking along a road in the pitch dark with trees and bushes on either side. I start to wish I hadn't read up on the history of the island and its penchant for cannibalism. Various words and thoughts are popping into my head including - scariest of all - the wicker man.
Everything seems further away in the dark and after what seems like an eternity we get to Puffy's. It's jumpin' with locals and tourists and our hosts are busily setting out the food on the table. I feel guilty for thinking bad thoughts just a few moments before.
One of the men stands up and announces dinners is served. He says grace and we are told to quickly help ourselves before the locals eat it all. We duly oblige. I have absolutely no idea what I'm putting onto my plate but have already decided that I'm going to eat it anyway. I take a little bit of everything - except for the stuff that looks like raw liver.
The food is really nice and I do eat everything. When we're all finished, the local kids get up in their traditional dress and dance for us. It's a fantastic atmosphere and everyone's having a great time. I get asked up to dance by one of the locals - he's 4 years old and totally adorable. Down in the sand he doesn't think I'm shaking my hips and ass enough and shows me how it's really done.
This is going to be good.
We touch down in Raratonga at 04.30am and walk across the tarmac to the small wooden building. It's warm and I immediately feel the moisture in the air. My hair reacts to this by separating and curling in on itself in some kind of lazy welcoming gesture. There's a guy in a hawaiian shirt singing some polynesian songs. Nice - but bizarre! I did say it was 0430.
We've got 3.5 hours before our flight to Aitutaki so I go to the toilets a few times to check on my hair. It's not good. It's tied back but what's left hanging down has separated into distinct little sections, gone totally wavy and slapped itself to the side of my head. For someone with little enough hair as it is,this is a very bad look.
At five to eight we board our tiny plane. I've barely sat down and put on my seatbelt when it starts heading out along the runway. I like their no nonsense style. A scant 40 mins later and we're crusing over the island of Aitutaki. It's totally breathtaking even in spite of the slightly overcast sky.
Another tiny wooden hut, another guy serenading us. There's not even a baggage carousel - you've just got to help yourself off the back of the luggage truck. The owner of the beach hut we're staying at picks us up at the airport and takes us to the supermarket to stock up on supplies. It's pricy since they import pretty much everything. There's no fresh milk on the island and I notice they even import their eggs. This surprises me since there are chickens and hens running about everywhere. Surely it can't be that difficult to organise.
On our way back to the beach hut, our host takes us to somewhere called Puffy's where we're getting a complimentary dinner at the local island night that evening. Sinead's mumbling something about not trusting our host and Puffy's looking dodgy but all I can think is how much the woman at Puffy's looks like an American football.
We get back to the beach hut and have showers. Having been on the go for about 24 hours straight, we're exhausted and decide to have a little snooze. Sinead is suddenly jealous of my eye mask (after having taking the piss for months) and asks if I have a spare. I do, and give this to her. She declares it a "revelation" and promptly falls asleep.
I wake up about 7 hours later and get ready for dinner. The hair is straightened and I put on some make-up , get the contact lenses in and feel much, much better.
We set off from the beach hut and realise it's pitch black. There are absolutely no street lights. We're walking along a road in the pitch dark with trees and bushes on either side. I start to wish I hadn't read up on the history of the island and its penchant for cannibalism. Various words and thoughts are popping into my head including - scariest of all - the wicker man.
Everything seems further away in the dark and after what seems like an eternity we get to Puffy's. It's jumpin' with locals and tourists and our hosts are busily setting out the food on the table. I feel guilty for thinking bad thoughts just a few moments before.
One of the men stands up and announces dinners is served. He says grace and we are told to quickly help ourselves before the locals eat it all. We duly oblige. I have absolutely no idea what I'm putting onto my plate but have already decided that I'm going to eat it anyway. I take a little bit of everything - except for the stuff that looks like raw liver.
The food is really nice and I do eat everything. When we're all finished, the local kids get up in their traditional dress and dance for us. It's a fantastic atmosphere and everyone's having a great time. I get asked up to dance by one of the locals - he's 4 years old and totally adorable. Down in the sand he doesn't think I'm shaking my hips and ass enough and shows me how it's really done.
This is going to be good.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
San Fran-fabulous
Went to Chinatown for dinner - so good, so cheap! Yesterday we had a delicious breakfast and hired some bikes. We cycled 10 miles round the bay, over the Golden Gate bridge and down into Sausalito before catching the ferry back. Sinead spnt a fortune on make-up (I know, I know - who'd have thought) and I got a custom-made lip gloss mixed at the Prescriptives counter.
We walked up 25 hills and had pizza at ZA. 6 hot guys wearing white t-shirts and beanies making your dinner and chatting with you . Ace! Walked all the way back to the hotel too. Burn it baby. My ass is totally sore from all the cycling and I've got to go sit on it for about 10 hours to get to the Cook Islands. Such is life I guess.
We walked up 25 hills and had pizza at ZA. 6 hot guys wearing white t-shirts and beanies making your dinner and chatting with you . Ace! Walked all the way back to the hotel too. Burn it baby. My ass is totally sore from all the cycling and I've got to go sit on it for about 10 hours to get to the Cook Islands. Such is life I guess.
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