A five-hour-flight from New Zealand and you’re literally in paradise. Paradise is called the Cook Islands. A group of 15 small islands (landmass only 240 square kilometers) spread out over 1.8 million square kilometers ocean. John and I planned to visit two of the fifteen islands, Rarotonga and Aitutaki. Nevertheless, just a couple of weeks before we were scheduled to arrive a huge cyclone (called Pat) hit Aitutaki. The biggest cyclone ever recorded. Although, luckily, no people died a lot of damage was done. How much damage would become clear later on…
Our first stop was Rarotonga were we stayed at Muri Beach Cottages.
A pleasant and private place owned by Gwen Welland and her friendly dog Zoë and her two cats. A lovely sparkling American lady who’ve lived there for over 35 years.
Since we were on Island-time we did nothing more than eat, sleep, read, cycle around the island a bit, getting my Cook Island’s driver’s licence and snorkel. At least until early one morning when we were woken up by Gwen to tell us a Tsunami-warning had been issued (apparently caused by a major earthquake in Chile) and it was up to us if we wanted to go to higher ground (we were situated directly at the beach).
First of all, the Tsunami-warning explained the sirens at 04.00 in the night and people honking their car horns. My first thought at the time was that the local rugby-team won a match and they were celebrating. Guess I was dead wrong.
At the time there were four other people staying with Gwen. All of which decided, together with John and I, to be better safe than sorry and move to higher ground. Luckily Gwen had a lot of friends on the island and so we drove to a friend’s place more inland. Apparently we were not the only ones deciding not to chance it, because 6 other people had come in looking for shelter (and finding it) also.
The Tsunami was supposed to hit around 08.00. So when after a couple of hours nothing unseemly happened, we headed back down to Gwen’s.
After a couple of days in Rarotonga we were supposed to go to a motu (small island) called Akaiami on the other side of the eye-candy lagoon of the island of Aitutaki. On the motu Akaiami there were only two small accommodations (max. around 10 people) so it was intended as a castaway-experience. Just a day before flying out from Raro to Aitu we were e-mailed by the owner of our accommodation (Gina’s Beach Lodge) that, because of the turbulent weather (cyclone Pat and the Tsunami-warning) of lately, they didn’t think it was safe to have us stay on the island. So John and I quickly found another picture-perfect spot, Samade on the Beach, to chill out.
Our first peek at Aitutaki was by plane and it was both shocking and beautiful. Shocking because you could see the devastation caused by the cyclone on land. Not much had remained of the normally lush vegetation. Beautiful because the lagoon was still magnificent, in both color and size.

On Aitutaki we did some swimming, kayaking, the usual wining and dining, and while John went for another kayak-trip I went on a lagoon cruise (which sounds more touristy than it really was). The cruise also stopped at Akaiami which enabled me to see the damage done to Gina’s Beach Lodge myself.
After some snorkeling and a lot of mozzies on Akaiami the cruise went on to One-Foot-Island were I ate a gourmet lunch consisting of grilled fresh fish with tasty (potato) salads.
At One-Foot I also had my passport stamped at the on-island-postoffice (one can never have too much stamps in one’s passport) and then returned to Samade were I was introduced to the petpig Nana. Pigs are just like humans, they loooooooove a good mud-bath. Only Nana didn’t have to pay top dollar for it ![]()

All-in-all, the Cook Islands were definitely worthwhile.
The next day our time in paradise was already over. We had to fly via Raro via Auckland via Singapore back home (picture me crying, yelling and fighting not to get on the plane). A looooooooooooooong tiresome trip which was only made bearable by the fun two couples sitting next to me on the flights back and the fact that we flew with Singapore Airlines, which in my book still is the best airline around.
At Schiphol we were picked-up by Dennis, a good friend of mine, who sacrificed his beauty-sleep to make sure all the excess bagage I accumulated along the way (mostly books) got ferried home safely.
More photos of the Cook Islands:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/the_dude_in/sets/72157623610447570/
















































