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.