When you can’t find lettuce on the island, everyone says, “Go to the Saturday market.” When you want fresh tuna steaks, same. If you’re after crafts and good photos, dittos. So we got up early and wandered along with other locals and tourists.
An occasional squall did little to dampen the spirits of shoppers and curiousity seekers. And we came home with armloads of the fruits of the tropics.
After relinquishing our campervan in Christchurch, NZ, we spent another day airborne and flew off to Rarotonga, a volcanic reef-rimmed atoll in the South Pacific. En route, we crossed the international date line and instantly gained 24 hours—just when we had begun to get the go-homes and count down the days.
We’ve had to search the globe and go through 20 time zones, but it appears we’ve finally found the middle of nowhere. That’s an exaggeration, of course, since there are 11,000 residents and at least as many tourists here—plus cel phones, ATMs, and internet service. But there are also omnipresent wild chickens, miles of untouched reef, and a few tribes that still run things and haven’t agreed (or allowed intermarriage) for, well, hundreds of years. “It’s like Hawaii was 30 years ago,” say the experienced tropical travelers. By that, we assume, they mean it’s hot. It’s the peak of summer in the southern tropics, after all, so the island is like one big greenhouse, and we’re mere snow cones melting inside it. We’ll share some more sights soon after we cool off and explore. But here’s a first impression.
After relinquishing our campervan in Christchurch, NZ, we spent another day airborne and flew off to Rarotonga, a volcanic reef-rimmed atoll in the South Pacific. En route, we crossed the international date line and instantly gained 24 hours—just when we had begun to get the go-homes and count down the days.
We’ve had to search the globe and go through 20 time zones, but it appears we’ve finally found the middle of nowhere. That’s an exaggeration, of course, since there are 11,000 residents and at least as many tourists here—plus cel phones, ATMs, and internet service. But there are also omnipresent wild chickens, miles of untouched reef, and a few tribes that still run things and haven’t agreed (or allowed intermarriage) for, well, hundreds of years. “It’s like Hawaii was 30 years ago,” say the experienced tropical travelers. By that, we assume, they mean it’s hot. It’s the peak of summer in the southern tropics, after all, so the island is like one big greenhouse, and we’re mere snow cones melting inside it. We’ll share some more sights soon after we cool off and explore. But here’s a first impression.
For weeks, we´d been admiring the work at the community art gallery. So when we found out that many local artists welcomed visitors to their studios, we were keen to go (as they´d say here).
On this fine summer day we traversed the island, visiting studios tucked in the village, perched over vineyards, overlooking the sea, and nestled in the bush. It was fascinating to enter the work spaces (all so different!), meet the artists (equally eclectic), and see all the creativity that this place has directly or tangentially inspired. Here are a few of the people we met.
For weeks, we’d been admiring the work at the community art gallery. So when we found out that many local artists welcomed visitors to their studios, we were keen to go (as they’d say here).
On this fine summer day we traversed the island, visiting studios tucked in the village, perched over vineyards, overlooking the sea, and nestled in the bush. It was fascinating to enter the work spaces (all so different!), meet the artists (equally eclectic), and see all the creativity that this place has directly or tangentially inspired. Here are a few of the people we met.
Many people ask us how we’re able to work and be productive in the midst of a big vacation. Well, the secret is this: by creating a dedicated work space that is organized, ergonomic and physically removed from all hedonistic temptations.
Here, for the first time, is a photo of the place where all 2H activity has taken place during the months of December and January. (Note: We’re still waiting for the Aeron chairs to arrive.)
Many people ask us how we´re able to work and be productive in the midst of a big vacation. Well, the secret is this: by creating a dedicated work space that is organized, ergonomic and physically removed from all hedonistic temptations.
Here, for the first time, is a photo of the place where all 2H activity has taken place during the months of December and January. (Note: We´re still waiting for the Aeron chairs to arrive.)
NZ dairy is a big international enterprise, and ice cream is the national prize. In fact, Kiwis are the world’s #2 per-capita-consumers of the sweet stuff.
They empty the freezers of the corner food shops (called dairies), whose exteriors are emblazoned with colorful ice-cream logos. They argue about the best brand and flavor. (Our son favors a concoction called Hokey Pokey.) And they come running when they hear the happy sound (Ta ra rah Boom-dee-yay!) of the ice cream truck that plies Waiheke’s streets and beaches daily. (P.S. The #1 per-capita ice-cream consumption nation? U.S.A.! U.S. A.! U.S.A.!)
NZ dairy is a big international enterprise, and ice cream is the national prize. In fact, Kiwis are the world´s #2 per-capita-consumers of the sweet stuff.
They empty the freezers of the corner food shops (called dairies), whose exteriors are emblazoned with colorful ice-cream logos. They argue about the best brand and flavor. (Our son favors a concoction called Hokey Pokey.) And they come running when they hear the happy sound (Ta ra rah Boom-dee-yay!) of the ice cream truck that plies Waiheke´s streets and beaches daily. (P.S. The #1 per-capita ice-cream consumption nation? U.S.A.! U.S. A.! U.S.A.!)
We’ve been delighted to find that live music often fills the air here. Whether it’s a young girl’s recorder warbling “Greensleaves” at the Saturday morning market, or the Plastic Paddies leading the crowd through “Cockles & Mussels” at Molly Malone’s, you can stumble upon harmonious scenes most anywhere.
This is a welcome change from Italy, our trip’s other primary placement. There, we’re told, live musicians must pre-register, pay a tax, and answer to a copyright official who patrols performances. It’s doubly sad because Italy is one place where people commonly carry guitars—and can sing along to opera on the radio. Here, making a joyful noise is still legal. Alleluia!
1 kid, 5 islands, 69 days
Here's my son’s blog from an '08/09 BreakAway in the Caribbean.
1 planet, countless cultures, 120 days
In 00/01, when the internet was a pup, I went RTW and posted these words and pics en route.
