24 Days in the Cook Islands: Lost in Paradise Week 3 and more

WEEK THREE

Day 15 – Ootu Beach

 Aitutaki atoll actually has 15 islands (of which 14 are uninhabited), sandbars and other small almost islands. The triangular shaped lagoon is surrounded by a barrier reef, hence the waters in the lagoon are very calm, shallow and low lying.

At dawn, just as the sun was painting the sky with pink strokes, we took a long walk. The little community of Ootu Beach had one road that ended at a park where several catamarans and sunfish boats called home. On the road leading out, we  passed the Kotu Café, a few local houses, a Tou Moana Outrigger Canoe Club sign tucked away from street. At the end of the road around a bend was our Boatshed Restaurant with its drinks, gluten free French fries and a spectacular view. And that’s it. We returned to our place and swam, ate, and wrote beneath the palm trees and absorbing the lagoon and all its glory. A perfect day.

Travel can be easy or hard

 I’d have to say traveling local style is always a bit of a challenge.  As the song says, you pay your money and you take your chance especially when traveling on a budget. But that often tends to be the good part, the juicy stuff, the food for stories to share with fellow travelers over food and laughter.  Since there is very little written about the Cook Islands, we had to travel there to really figure it out. Here’s what we learned.  On the one hand, Rarotonga is less expensive and more connected with better supplies, better markets and internet in most places although air conditioning is hit or miss. On the other hand, on Rarotonga there's more tourism and less areas untouched. Aitutaki is more expensive with limited access to internet, restaurants and accommodations. Still Aitutaki is a wonder to see and the Bishop’s Cruise to the reefs with the giant clams and to One Foot Island completed our fantasy checklist.

For 5 hours, we cruised the lagoon in a 45-foot double hull catamaran with 30 fellow passengers. The small crew serenaded us with Māori music, singing and drumming, and reciting a prayer for our safety. Our first stop was Yum Yum Island, a small spit of land who’s claim to fame was the filming of an episode of the Survivor Series. With its white sand beaches, luscious greenery and coconut trees stock full, we could think of worse places to be stranded. Then off to snorkeling among colorful giant clams in water so clear it felt like an aquarium. The water was teaming with hundreds of fish swimming in reef schools: convict tangs, triggerfish, schools of sliver yellow jack fish, tiny purple florescent fish, Moorish idols, and yellow tang among others.  But the giant clams were the most fascinating. With their 2 ventricles that filter rich plankton water and exposed colorful soft mantles, they measured 3 feet in length and weighted 100’s of pounds. The insides or belly of the clam ranged from purple to orange tiger striped and even a leopard skin pattern.

Each clam was unique. The colorful neon spots on the lip of their shells attracted small fish who swam in to take a bite. We watched as one such tiny fish took a nibble on the dormant looking clam. The clam snapped closed quickly with the reflexes of a shark then returned to its statue stance, motionless but fully alive. With a lifespan of over 100 years, these mollusks live so long that some have coral growing on their sides.  Think Pirates of the Carribean.  The captain of our cruise told us of a clam named Ming that lived 507 years. Impressive.

Then off to One Foot Island. The crew told the story of a father and son who broke a taboo when fishing in an area that was reserved for the king’s use only. When the kings guard spotted their fishing boat, the father and son raced to the island. The father instructed his son to step first in the soft sand while he stepped in the same foot prints creating only one set of tracks. The father hid the boy in a Pandanus tree while he traveled further inland attracting the guard’s attention. The guards killed the father for breaking the taboo but the son was saved. At the end of the story, the crew announced that the entire cruise ship’s company was descendants of the son. We ate a lunch of grilled tuna, local fruit, grilled breadfruit and salads. Then free to explore the island, we swam once again in the crystal-clear lagoon filled with schools of colorful fish and walked on a sand bar that crossed the small lagoon.  

Day 16 - Another Sunday

On Sunday we rode the circumference of the island stopping to watch the local women, and their flower laden straw hats, walking home from church. Just as in Rarotonga everything was close on Sundays. Instead, the people go to church and head home to spend the day with family. We hear the clanking of dishes and soft sound of laughter emanating from the open windows of the houses we passed.

Back at Ootu Beach, we kayaked along the shallow waters of the blue lagoon diving in water that was wet but barely cooling. We dined once again on Chef Nag’s fine food. The menu of NZ Rib Eye, local Chicken and Yellow Fin was remained the same but we mixed it up. I had the Yellow Finn Tuna and Tim a perfectly Charred Half Chicken. We shared a bottle of Chardonnay this time with three women from Australia woman who laughed at our various travel stories.  During our card playing, I must have upsold at least 7 seats, the Austrian women being among them.  For that I received a NU, cold coconut water served in the coconut complete with a straw.

Later, we cracked the shell and made an offering of the tender insides to the wandering chicks but first the roosters took their share only because they demanded it. After the chicks had their fill, a mina bird swooped in for a peck. Then a small orange hermit crab wearing a fancy conch shell polished off most of the remains. Finally, the sugar ants made the shell shine. There is an efficient hierarchy in third world countries. Here it’s rooster, chicken, mina birds, hermit crab, sugar ants. Nothing goes to waste.

Day 17 - A Day of Rest

While traveling I often forget to slow down and rest. Tim gets annoyed that I want to be on-the-go most of the time. But traveling to new parts of the world energizes me, begging me to discover the culture and meet new people, especially the locals.

But after last night activities, today was clearly a day of rest.  After a simple breakfast of fruit and tea, we spent time in our air-conditioned room reading and napping. The outside boiled without a whisper of wind. We stayed tucked away until 3pm when boredom turned us out to the Blue Lagoon to write and play a game of 15. That’s when the fun began.

In front of the restaurant, a kayak pulled up and with three young Asian millennials returning to shore with a panic.  The spokesmen (also named Robin), with dyed red hair, shouted to us in broken English.

“Lost our phone, help please,” he said and pointed to the center of the shallow lagoon.

That’s all it took. Tim, the Super Hero donned on suit with his snorkel gear in tow and rowed out on a kayak to the rescue!  After surface diving for 40 minutes in the 6 feet of water, he still came up empty. Nonetheless, the young men thought he was the greatest and invited us to dinner.

Later that night, we met at a mid-island restaurant called Avantea that was packed with tourists, many of which we had seen at the resorts. The food was good and featured a large menu of local foods. I choose a Rib Eye steak that was more rib than eye and after sharing stories with our new, young friends, we headed out to out scooter in the balmy star filled night. The ride home was magical. The air was cool and the roads were empty as we traveled from the south of the island to the very northern tip and around the peninsula to our home away from home. We drove passed a few buildings, all closed for the night.  But mostly, we road passed open shoreline of the moonlit lagoon. Tomorrow, we’d leave this special place, the turquoise lagoon, our pop-up Blue Lagoon Restaurant and the polished, cool rooms of the AT Village. Heading back to Rarotonga for the last 5 days of our journey, we couldn’t wait.

Day 18 – The Return to Rarotonga

The rental company picked up our scooter at the villa and we walked to the nearby Koru Restaurant for brunch. It was really too hot to eat but the food looked lovely and we wouldn’t reach our new accommodations at Avana’s Beachfront Apartments until 5 in the evening. Time to fuel up. We planned to take the local bus for the rest of our stay to be true to the budget idea. You can travel for $5 NZ/pp around the entire island, about $3.00 USD/pp.

Heading to the airport, our shuttle was once again driven by Robin, a woman who wears many hats. The tiny Aitutaki airport was empty with no salty sea captain staring us down. In fact, by the time the plane arrived, there were only 4 passengers for the return trip to Rarotonga. We all sat waiting on the outside benches hoping for a crosswind. I bought an ice pop for $.60 just to put on my neck and dreamt of the air-conditioned plane ride home. 

Instead, we were quickly shuttled into a puddle jumper with only a captain and a pilot in training. Gone was the stewardess who handed out the cool towels and the air conditioning was non-existent.  We were only 4 after all. We sat fanning ourselves with the plastic evacuation cards.

It was a smooth ride for the most part until the landing. Our pilot in training was just that. We touched down once and rose up again.  Weightlessly we hovered over the tiny air strip until after a few more bumps we braked and came to an unsteady stop. The captain started laughing and it was so infectious that all the passengers joined in. We had made it safely and that was the point. Just another day in the Cooks.

At the airport, we asked an auntie about how to catch the bus.  “If you go anti-clockwise it comes here. Clockwise it’s across the street.” She pointed to a metal shed in the distance.

We grabbed our bags, once again from an unsupervised cart, and headed for the shed which we were sure would house a schedule and a bit of shade maybe even a bench to sit on, only to find out it was a metal covering for an above ground grave.  You have to understand, graves in the Cooks are naturally above ground like New Orleans due to the elevated water table.  But instead of destinated areas for the dearly departed, like a graveyard, they were everywhere.  Stone mausoleums popped up next to grocery stores, along prime beach front, next to bus stops. And the locals honor their dead with all kinds of shrines from flowers, island planters, intricately woven leis and in some cases, like at the bus stop, a shrine with blinking Christmas lights. I ask a local friend with as much humility I could muster, what’s the story with all graves. He spoke reverently about his father’s grave and how they often celebrated special occasions with a BBQ or party with the mausoleum at its center. It was a way of remembering their love ones while inviting them for some banana wine.

Oops not the bus station after all and definitely no bench there.  Instead, we moved a bit further down the road to a shady spot ready to wave down the clockwise bus and learn the route.

No sooner has we stopped than a man on a motorcycle pulled up and greeted us.

“Kia Orana,” he said. The bus is just 5 minutes behind you. He showed us his app that tracked local transit anywhere in the world. “See you are here and that’s the bus,” he pointed out, spouting like a seasoned traveler.

We must have looked pathetic with our bags of rolling luggage and backpacks sticking to our sweating backs because before he could show us more, a car pulled up with two young local women inside.  The driver lowered her window. “Kia Orana”.

“Kia Orana.” we said.

“Where you going?”

“Muri Beach,” I said.

“Murdy?” the woman corrected me. For some reason there is a hidden “d” in the islanders’ pronunciation.

“Yes, Murdy,” I said.

“Hop in. We got stops to make but we’ll get you there.”

 So much for the bus. We loaded our gear and climbed in the back seat. It was air-conditioned.   Whatever the errands, we would have gladly have ridden for hours in the cool car.

 The driver, Anahera and Marilee, the co-pilot, told us their story in a light hearted manner. Anahera (Angel) a strong Māori woman, had been on Rarotonga her whole life while Marilee, her cousin, had recently returned from her work in New Zealand. Since New Zealand offered more vibrant employment opportunities, people from the Cooks often emigrated to New Zealand for work. This was a common story.  At the same time, the Cook Islands needed workers to run their tourist industry and welcome people from Tonga, Fiji, Samoa, and the Philippines.

“We saw you standing on the road and had to turn around twice to get you,” Anahera said. “We couldn’t leave you there.” Just another example of Cook Island hospitality. We were picked up and escorted by locals within 10 minutes of landing.

Our first stop was to Marilee’s 72-year-old auntie who lived off the main road a bit inland. We passed many well-maintained houses with meticulous lawns.

“Do you mow the grass in Hawaii?” Marilee asked.

“We mow some and give the rest to the jungle,” Tim said.

“Come on they have workers do that,” Anahera said to her friend.

“No, we mow our own,” Tim said.

“Here, if you do not keep up your yard, a neighbor, auntie or uncle will come over and mow your yard already.”

We pull up at Marilee’s auntie’s house and dropped off a large patterned, plywood board. “My auntie uses it to make batiked sheets to sell at the market,” she explained.

Then off towards “Murdy” only to pull up to a fruit stand making a quick stop for tomatoes.

“Tomatoes auntie?” “No more.”

Next, we pulled into a Quick Stop store where our driver picked up what looked like fresh donut holes and a container of green mussels cured in vinegar. She offered it all around.  I ate a mussel and Tim a donut hole.

“Where are you going again,” Anahera asked as if the island was the size of Maine.

“Avana’s Beachfront Apartments,”I said.

“You mean AvAna. AvA means place of the cave.”

“Here it is,” I point to the sign.  We pulled into the long driveway passed a big lazy, brown pig feasting on fallen coconuts, and banana and paw paw (papaya) orchards.

“That’s where you go to borrow some paw paw,” Anahera said with a laugh. “Hey I used to party at that house right there.”

A few more bumps and we arrived, thanked our escorts while our beautiful hostess Desiree greeted us.  “Kia Orana,” she said pleasantly.

“Kia Orana,” we echoed. While we were away, Desiree had upgraded us to a two-bedroom villa for the same price. Now, here was luxury we could afford. Our upstairs downstairs 1000 ft villa had a full kitchen complete with a dishwasher, stove top and full size frig, two bedrooms, ensuite bathroom and a beautiful lanai that faced the sea all for $205 NZ/nt, ($120 USD).  Everything was meticulously clean and well appointed. We couldn’t believe our luck. It even had a small air conditioner in one of the bedrooms that you could rent for $10 NZ/nt ($6/nt USD). Eat that Matriki. I had to admit. Tim was right. Sometimes it pays to shop around and visit accommodations before renting. But again, not knowing where you’d rest your head for the night takes some courage.

That night, we met our young Canadian friends at the Rickshaw Rarotonga Restaurant, an Asian restaurant on the small Muri Beach downtown strip. They had a sign out front that we had seen on our many trips around the island that listed gluten free options. I was in. It was delicious Asian food and some of the best food we had on the island. Heavenly!

We started a table conversation about the weirdest people we had met on our travels. They trumped us with a story about a trip to Cuba complete with a seaside bungalow, a romantic vacation for two. The first night at the bar however, they met a 72-year-old Canadian man who told them of his life as a nudist in Ottawa complete with pictures of his naked daughter-in-law. “But that wasn’t the best part,” Mike said. The old man regaled proudly that he and his wife were swingers and in fact he had written a book entitled Swing Your Partner. “Look it up,” Mike said. “It’s out there.”  We started laughing hysterically and couldn’t stop. Meeting people when traveling is my favorite part.

The Passage - Day 19

With only five days left, we decided to finish our snorkeling tour of Rarotonga. With some of the most protected waters on the planet, we wanted to spend as much time as we could in the exploring the sea around us.  And with the constant heat, we naturally gravitate to the water. For the rest of our stay, we planned on either watching marine life from the shore, snorkeling with pristine coral and fish or eating fish: ika mata, fresh tuna or succulent mahi mahi. Sorry fishies.

After a full night’s sleep, we woke at 6am and actually felt a bit chilly. Amazing what a little air conditioning can do. We grabbed our coffee and tea and headed to the two Adirondack chairs that sat on a small grassy knoll that faced the lagoon. Soon, clouds colored a fiery red, opened up to a full sunrise, painting the water a spectrum of reds, yellows and golds. We sat and watched stingrays raise their tipped wings above the water in play. They move gracefully across the bay.

Avana Beachfront Apartments sat at the edge of the Avana Passage. Rarotonga is surrounded by five major navigable passages that break through to the open ocean, a channel in the coral reef that ringed the island.  These channels are well-known for their strong currents and abundant marine life.  Ocean water flow in from narrow openings in the coral providing protected gateways connecting the open ocean to sheltered lagoons. The passages in the Cook Islands are packed with fish and marine life. They offer food, shelter and easy access to calm water for a vast variety of species. Like marine reserves, these vibrant hotspots thrive due to consistent reef health, and shifting marine life moving between the sea and shallow reefs.

And here we had a passage right in front of us and ready to explore. But today, neither one of us really wanted to move very fast. So instead, we ate our breakfast of paw paws and bananas and sipped our tea as we watched the passage come to life. The lapping water and tickling palms beat out a slow rhythm, a rhythm our bodies finally matched. We had found home.

After breakfast, we picked up our scooter and become mobile again. With the rate of scooters being so reasonable, typically $25 NZ/day ($15 USD/day) and the bus being $10NZ or ($6usd) for the day for the two of us, it seemed worth the extra $9 USD for the luxury of independent travel. For the first stop, we rode off to grocery store for some supplies. I had dreamed of making Fettucine Alfredo with broccoli and garlic bread, if we could find it.  And some chocolate for dessert. Of course, they didn’t have what I needed for the real recipe.

“Do you have double crème?” I asked. Double crème is what the British call heavy cream and therefore so do the Cook Island locals. 

“No more.”

“How about Italian sausage.” They looked perplexed.

But they did have everything we were craving like chips, cheese, white and dark chocolate, and more wine. That night, I managed to make some quinoa pasta with coconut milk, some hard cheese and dried basil with frozen broccoli and a kielbasa type sausage. It tasted nothing like the Italian dish I had dreamt of but when on island, foods just come out island style.  

How do the locals feed themselves? I asked my friend Seena from Samoa.

“We grow gardens, and pick fruit from the trees, catch fish,” Seena said.  “We never buy food.  We gather, grow, catch and barter for the rest.” Wow. What a world this could be. Before Costco and the big box stores came to the Big Island some 30 years ago, Hawaii was a lot like that.

Day 21 Three weeks in...

 I always say it takes at least 3 weeks to begin to understand new surroundings especially when traveling about. Three weeks to begin to feel the rhythm of the land, the measure of people, the taste of the local foods. Three weeks to close your eye to the old world and open them to your new surroundings.

On Day 21, we woke up to another tequila sunrise. The sky was painted a bright orange in anticipation of the sun raising out to the sea. We sat on our Adirondack chairs with our daily tea and coffee and watched two leopard stingrays feeding on small fish and crustaceans, close to shore.  One stingray, with a wing span of 5 feet cross, circled and dove, raising its fin tips like a rutter, breaking the surface of the water. Another smaller stingray, about 3 feet across, joined the feeding spot until a 12” bossy puffer fish came by and chased them away. It turns out that puffer fish defend their feeding and nesting grounds rather aggressively, attacking with their sharp beaks. These docile stingrays swam away without a fight.

We discovered that they were not the only fish to protect their territory. At the end of the rickety jetty, a narrow wooden structure that extended from the shore of the Avana property to the lagoon, a little brown fish no bigger than 4” ruled the roost. Every time we tried to descend the stairs of the ladder into the passage, the little brown fish would relentlessly nip at our feet until we’d retreat. He’d then return to eating, quite peacefully, the algae that grew along the submerged steps. It was his restaurant after all.

We manage to bypass Brown Fish, giving him wide berth, as we snorkeled out in the lagoon. We found plenty in the area around the jetty. Moorish Idols, Convict Tang, the mighty Pufferfish, florescent Blue Damsel, Yellow Tang and even some Yellowfin Tuna swam in the sheltered passage that was rich with food. There were so many fish familiar to us from our waters in Hawaii. It is after all the same tropical Pacific Ocean waters.

We took the hotel’s worn kayaks across the water to one of the three small island that sat opposite Muri Beach. There were less fish here but we spotted a flounder nestled in the sand. A bossy pufferfish swam by eyeing us suspiciously and Tim caught sight of a fleeting green sea turtle. 

In the afternoon, we rode our scooter to the Fruits of Rarotonga, in Titikaveka district, marked by a tin covered structure that once sheltered a fruit stand. It was brilliant snorkeling area. We swam with all the fish you find on a tropical fish chart and more. A brilliant royal blue starfish, a large blue grey parrotfish and a baby giant clam rounded out the list.  

Down the road we stopped at to the Moorish Café, a fish stand where locals and tourist stood in line from noon on. I ordered a spicy sautéed tuna with an avocado cream sauce on gluten free bread with relish made with diced tomatoes, cucumbers and red onions. Tim had the battered fried Mahi Mahi on what looked like a loaf of French bread. The fish was so fresh it felt alive in the best way. On the scooter, we rode back to our lovely place on the lagoon for a cool down until our ride to Kappa’s for a lilikoi ice cream to finish the day.

Day 22 - Te Ara : A Museum of Worth

I woke before the sun and sat on our balcony with the stars in full display. The Milky Way shown bright, a white swatch painted across the sky. The quiet here was so complete. There were no sounds of phones beeping, no humming of electronics, no automobiles rushing by, no rushing of any sort. How many places such places were left in this busy world?

When Tim woke, he joined me with his coffee on our chairs perched on the hill. Today, we watched the sun rise out of the water with such force that the fruit and coconut trees looked as if they were on fire.

Since we were still looking for more info on the original culture, we headed to the Te Ara Cook Island Museum of Cultural Enterprise and found what we were looking for.  A modern museum with incredible displays told the true history of the Cook Islands.

The exhibit started with a glass detailed map outlining the migratory route of the travelers and what years they arrived. There were authentic weavings, wooden artifacts and backlit glass panels that explained the history of the island from the original inhabitants, the arrival of Polynesian traveler and the arrival of the missionaries headed by John Williams in 1821. Williams led a campaign to bring Christianity to the islands and, in many ways, worked to decimate the island culture.  By instilling rules for proper dress, banning native language, singing, dancing and drumming, destroying statues and idols that represented traditional religion, he effectively ended their old way of life. Ironically, 1839 bought about the death of John Williams. In an attempt to bring the gospel to the natives, he traveled to the south pacific kingdom of Republic of Vanuatu. There he was met with great resistance. Williams and his party of missionaries were killed and eaten, which was the custom of the local tribe.

The museum housed display after display proclaiming the beauty of the indigenous Cook Island culture that varied from island to island. Like Hawaii, several counties vied to take over this island nation but 1901 if came under the protection of New Zealand who made it a colony. In 1965, the Cook Islands became a self-governing territory in “free association” with New Zealand. We left understanding the beauty of the rich Māori culture that was and, in many ways, still exists in these pristine islands.

From the museum, we headed to another snorkel spot at Titkaveka, the southern end of the island. We swam halfway out to the reef that surrounds the island and saw plenty of healthy coral and schools of fish. We watched tour boats pull up just inside the reef and dump snorkelers in what looked like a dark rich area that was too far for us to swim.  There are some restraints to being on a budget. But with all the flailing arms and the legs of the newbie snorkelers, we couldn’t imagine that there would be any fish left undisturbed.  We decided we preferred our mode of discovery.

That night, I finally made a meal I liked. Using a gluten free baking mix from NZ, I manage to make a thick crepe like crust topped with pesto, sausage, three cheese, yellow onion and portabella mushrooms. We feasted on our delicious pizza and then took a moonlit stroll under the star filled sky beneath the Southern Cross.

Day 23 – The Aroa Passage

We had a final snorkel spot to conquer near the passage of Aroa beach. But first, today was Saturday and the Punanga Nui Market. Since Tim had missed the first go around, it was a must for him to see. Tim walked this time without pain and marveled at the depth of the market. Hundreds of stalls lined up on either side of grass walkways, many rows deep. We stopped at a young local artist’s booth and bought a beautiful silk-screened t-shirt with a turtle design with the reflection of humpback whales swimming in its shell. We talked story with the artist about Hawaii and Punalu’u, the turtle beach we lived nearby.

“People talk about turtles here but Hawaii is the place to see them,” he said wistfully.  We invited him and his sons to visit us and exchanged information in the hopes of continued connection between our two worlds.

Off to Aroa Beach, a place just passed the Rarotongan resort. People sat on the well-groomed beach looking bored.  Some visitors never leave their hotels pools or beach cabanas.  Very few explored the waters. We snorkeled only a few feet out and found pristine coral, all types: brain coral, a yellow and red coral that looked like a sunflower, blue coral and fanned shaped fire coral. The sea life was amazing! Every species of fish we had seen so far, thriving and swimming just inches form our masks.

We had found our snorkeling nirvana on our last full day here. We spent hours amongst the coral kingdom and all the while tourist sat on their beach chairs missing the wonder of this world underneath.

For our last night, we splurged and ate at the lovely Little Polynesian Restaurant. I finally tried Ika Mata, a traditional Cook Island dish similar to ceviche.  A sashimi grade fish marinated in citrus juice and mixed vegetable in a rich coconut cream was delicious.  The chef took great care with my gluten free diet and made me island fries along with a slow roasted chicken with a thick paw paw sauce over mushroom sage risotto. Tim ordered the whole parrot fish deep fried with load of island fries and a local green salad. It was a fitting meal for our last evening.

Leaving the island - Day 24

 Since our plane wasn’t due to leave until 11:10pm, we took a full rest day. We decided to rent our apartment for another day, always a good idea when taking a late-night flight. But our gracious host Desiree wouldn’t accept payment. She simply allowed us to stay the entire day without charge. More Cook Island hospitality. We road our scooter to the Te Ara Museum again. After taking a flat white and gluten free pastry in the museum café, we bought trinkets from their shop filled with local artist’s work. We loaded up plumeria soaps and a hand batiked sarong. I thought of the Marilee’s auntie and her batiked sheets. We rode back to our seaside apartment where we ate leftovers made into veggie fried rice and napped and swam in the sea one more time.

We waited in the light of a full moon for Eli, our Fijian taxi driver, to take us to the airport. The moon rose out of the water and colored the passage like cream on coffee.  As we climbed into Eli’s van and waved good-bye to the island and all its beautiful people.  We’ll remember this place as magical, as pure.

After 26 hours of straight travel, we made it back to Colorado. A long night and day passed with the changing and boarding of three planes and an Uber ride home. Was it worth the long, arduous journey?  We agreed. It was. In these Cook Islands, we had the opportunity to witness a place untouched, to swim in an ocean marine park that is one of the most protected in the world, to experience the kindness of a Polynesian people that spoke Māori, played drums and sang traditional songs and told stories and to listen to the locals sing in their majestic Māori choir. Each place we travel weaves it way into the tapestry of our spirits. And the Cook Islands entwined deep. We are sure to see the moonlit lagoon in our dreams for years to come.