Dr Jim's Periglobal Perambulations: The Cook Islands. Better late than never.

Kia Orana!

If there was a third world war, with nukes raining down all over the place, or if some cataclysmic plague struck the world, wiping out everyone it infected, I expect that The Cook Islands would be the best place to be. A 3 and a half hour flight from Auckland, it lies almost diametrically on the other side of the world to the UK. The closest place is Tahiti, which is tiny and remote too. It is thousands of miles from anywhere of any significance, but really quite comfortable. Look at a map of the Pacific ocean and you won’t see the Cook’s unless they are labelled. They are a myriad of tiny coral atolls and volcanic islands set amid a vast expanse of deep, remorseless and occasionally violent ocean. Whilst it’s a tourist destination, mercifully few people get here, and if they do they are usually attending a wedding. The main island is called Rarotonga. There is one road going round it and it takes about 40 minutes to putter around on a scooter. There are two buses. One goes clockwise. The other anticlockwise. There is one town, which is scarcely even a town. One airport, where a man with a Ukulele plays to you as you arrive and people put garlands around your neck. Everyone is smiling, because there really is nothing to be unhappy about here. The temperature never drops below 23C and never goes above about 34C. It rains enough to keep everything green, but not enough to be a nuisance. The wind blows a little, but not too much. There are no poisonous insects, no dangerous animals. Even the dogs are well looked after by a foundation that provides free neutering. Fish teem in the waters around the island. The waves break over the coral atolls with myriads of tropical fish as the sun sets fire to the sea and you sit under a palm tree with a beer. It’s the antithesis to London, and that’s the only problem; you are thousands of miles away from a city and all its particular amenities. But that suited me just fine. Welcome to the Cook Islands. 15 islands, 240 square kilometres of land, spread over 1,800,000 square kilometres of sea. Paradise on earth for a city boy who has a secret desire to be away from everyone, and everything. I’ve never felt so content.

Spots of land in an acre of blue remoteness

Rarotonga, the largest of the Cook Islands

I booked in to one of only three hostels on Rarotonga, or Raro as it is affectionately known. Called Vara's beach house. Appropriately named. The dorm looked out over the deck. The warm wind blew softly through the window as I drifted off to sleep on the night I arrived. And this was the view I woke up to. When you wake up to a view like this, for £10 a night, why on earth would you want to be anywhere else?

Sunrise over Muri beach lagoon, Rarotonga, Cook Islands

If you look carefully at some of the photos you will see the different hues of blue appear slightly pixellated and rough. It looks like I've enhanced the photos or something. I promise you I haven't. The place really looks like this and I don't think the camera was designed to capture images like this. You've never seen blues, azures and aquamarines like it. A jewel box of iridescence.

Muri beach lagoon with the fishing boat for the Moorings café

The warm, azure waters of the coral atolls around Rarotonga

It's just so gob smackingly gorgeous that you have to pinch yourself regularly. Was it a dream? Am I writing this six months after getting home because I need to again remind myself of the reality that this place exists? Possibly, although the time lag can be more explained by the quite profound apathy I've suffered since coming home. And who could be surprised? To go from this, and over a year off work, back to the grind (and the wettest winter in living memory) is an emotional shock and no mistake. But enough of that. I want to focus on the memory of this place. This nirvana, this bliss, this shangri-la, this heaven. It gets even better. On Aitutaki. But you'll have to scroll down for that. I won't take long to get there because I didn't do very much on the Cook Islands apart of sunbathe, snorkel and scuba dive. All are sublime. The food here is generally fish, fish and more fish. Wahoo, Tuna and Mahi Mahi. All delicious. All freshly caught that day and cooked in front of you.

A boxfish

Sunset, Rarotonga

Zebrafish

A Clam

A shoal of Convict Surgeons

Old rigger ship setting sail for Palmerston

Avarua market

Muri beach, Rarotonga

The Clockwise bus, Rarotonga

But wait. It gets better. The teardrop shaped island of Aitutaki. About 3 miles long and a mile or so wide. Ensconced in a lagoon that, even from a satellite image, you can see is going to be pretty special. And it is. Everything on Aitutaki is special. This is by far and away the most beautiful place I have ever had the privilege of visiting. I stayed here for about 5 or 6 days. They blend into each other. I made friends with a kitten, who stayed in my beach hut with me. I scuba dived, kayaked, snorkelled and took a day trip out on the lagoon, which will live with me for the rest of my life. Never have I seen such natural beauty. I always thought those photoshopped pictures you see of beaches with palm trees surrounded by a crystal clear azure lagoon, must have been just that, photoshopped. Not here they aren't. And you can get decent food, booze and coffee here too. The people are friendly. Everything is relaxed and peaceful. It has everything you would ever need for a dream, desert island holiday. It was pure bliss, stunning in every element, and I absolutely fell in love with it. I'll be back.

To end on this, such a high, was a privilege indeed. It reminded me a little of the stunning beach we found in Madagascar just a few days after setting off from the UK. There are times on this trip when the going has been very hard. Times when it has been blissful, and times where it has been something in-between. This was definitely blissful and now I'll let the photos show you how utterly amazing this place is. It is truly paradise on earth and it marks the end of my year of periglobal peregrinations. Long planned, much anticipated, and thoroughly enjoyed. I never thought it would actually happen when I started planning it, still less that I would emerge at the other end unscathed and far richer (metaphorically) than I could've imagined. It's a phenomenal experience. I would say the most unique and special series of events in my life so far. You miss your loved ones. But you treasure every day. And I treasure the memories now; of which, I hope, this blog will form the backbone of as the years trickle by, and the dance of perceptions in my mind slip beneath the surface of conscious recollection. I hope you enjoyed reading this. And apologies for taking so long to write the last bit. It's hard coming home after a trip like this, and I actually found writing about it almost impossible for the first six months after I got back. In retrospect that's understandable, and it underlines what this trip really was for me- a journey through a myriad of landscapes, a myriad of people and a myriad of emotions. And, most importantly I suppose, the meanings tucked in-between them. It is quite a thing, I feel, to be alive.

;-)