Christmas in New England - Whoopie Pies and Candlepin Bowling

December 22

A spectacularly gorgeous day in Maine!

We woke up at 10:30 a.m. Granted, that's only seven hours after going to sleep, but still! It's so quiet and peaceful here. When we walked the 15 minutes or so to Mel's mom's beautiful home, there were only seven cars that drove past us on this two-lane highway.

After a breakfast of toast and homemade blackberry jam, we made Whoopie Pies (which, as I mentioned in my last post, are the official dessert food of Maine). They are large chocolate “cookies” of dense, cake-like consistency, sandwiched with (in this case) your choice of a boiled, white frosting or a buttercream frosting. A big, delicious, creamy blob of the frosting is placed on one cookie, then another cookie is placed on top and pressed down just enough to look like a ice cream sandwich. When you take a bite, the frosting squishes out all over your fingers, which you are then forced to lick clean. You wouldn't want to waste all that decadent goodness on a napkin!

These Whoopie Pies bear no resemblance to the miniature, dried-out variety you might have seen at a coffee chain during the Holidays. Those are not Whoopie Pies. They are Whoopie Cookies, and small ones, at that. Although the tiny imitations taste pretty good, don't let the fact that they look like the real thing (only smaller) fool you. There is no comparison. None.

Sue measures out her batter onto the cookie sheet with precision, using a small ice cream scoop. They are exactly uniform in size, and they are baked to absolute perfection. You don't want to take chances with the size of your Whoopie Pies, and this method deposits just enough batter for the best size and thickness. Sue could win contests with her Whoopie Pies. I'm sure of it.

Naturally, we all had to try “one of each” in order to compare fillings. I had to agree with Sue. I thought the boiled frosting was best. Zack and Mel liked the buttercream better. And Harry couldn't decide. And I didn't take a Whoopie Pie picture. Can you believe it?

Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

A walk in the woods.
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

Since it was such a lovely day, we decided to burn off some of the calories we'd just consumed by walking through the woods along the snowmobile trail to the lake. There was no snow, or we would have been on snowmobiles. The fallen leaves formed a thick carpet on the ground, and little pine saplings peeked through everywhere. We passed a babbling brook lined with a thin, delicate layer of ice and arrived at the placid lake in a matter of minutes. Well, it seemed like a matter of minutes, but I didn't notice how long it actually took. It was immensely enjoyable and calm and quiet and peaceful. The temperature was in the low 30's, but it seemed warmer.

Dudley with the people he's walking.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Dudley, the Goldendoodle with more energy than five toddlers, went with us on our walk. Sue's pooch is an entertaining, friendly, sweet dog. But, apparently, not too bright. He's awfully endearing, though, and you can't have everything. Dudley's eyes are striking in their gaze – clear, innocent, enthusiastic, openly inquisitive, not quite comprehending. He seems eager, but puzzled. And he's a beautiful animal. He and Harry are fast friends already. You'd have fallen for him, too.

Snark, staying warm.
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

Sue's other dog, a Pug, is nicknamed “Snark.” That'll be because of the sounds she makes. Cute, no? Snark is older and rules the roost. She takes whatever Dudley dishes out to a point, and then she asserts herself. And, whatever you do, do not get between her and the pellet stove. She curls up there in her doggie bed, soaking up the blessed warmth, keeping watch to make sure things don't get out of control.

We returned to the house, where Jim had prepared dinner for us. What a guy! He'd cooked teriyaki chicken in the crock pot, and that was served over basmati rice with a side dish of buttered broccoli. Jim makes delicious pickles, and we enjoyed his dills and mustards with our dinner. Lots of puckery goodness!

Lucky Lanes. Give them a try!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

After dinner, we went to Paris by way of Norway, from Oxford. Maine is such a great place! You can travel all over Europe without leaving the state! We had decided that candlepin bowling would be an excellent way to spend the rest of the evening.

See? Those are far away. Come on.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

For the uninitiated, candlepin bowling is played mainly in the Maritimes and in New England. The pins are tall and skinny and cylindrical, and the ball is small, weighing about a pound. You would think it would be easier than “regular” bowling, since the ball you're hoisting doesn't dislocate your shoulder or pull your elbow out of joint, but it's actually pretty difficult. Especially for me. I am probably the worst bowler ever ridiculed, so you can imagine how good I was at heaving this ball all the way down the much-too-long lane, trying to knock down one (Please! Just one!) pin. But my second game was a slight improvement over my first one, and so I considered the evening's entertainment to have been a great success. And...I had a blast. If you are traveling through New England (or the Maritimes), do give it a try. I promise you will have fun, even if it's just laughing...at yourself or the others. To find out more about candlepin bowling, visit http://www.bowlcandlepin.com.

There was a 12- or 13-year-old young man there who was playing in the next lane over from ours. He was just practicing, improving his game. And he was making mincemeat of us, in that he “only” gets to bowl on weekends, and maybe on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Only?! Anyway, Ian is a very friendly, un-shy guy. He added to our enjoyment by showing off, giving us helpful tips, and critiquing our technique. Thanks, Ian! I'm sure you'll be a pro someday.

Tomorrow, it looks as though L. L. Bean might be on the agenda, and we're meeting Melissa's father and her uncle, Barry, whose band has a once-a-year-reunion-party nearby. We've been invited to a gig, and I'm looking forward to it.

Thompson Lake
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

I hope the weather will be lovely again. There was no fog today, and no ice on the road. I am loving Maine!

Christmas in New England - Arriving in Maine

December 21

We're on our way! Cheers! (Zack and Harry)
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We're on our way to New England for Christmas! My husband and I left our place around 7 a.m., arriving at Zack (our son) and Melissa's place in plenty of time for the four of us to take a cab ride to BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit), ride BART to San Francisco International Airport, take the tram to Terminal 3, walk to Gate 86, and board our flight with United Airlines. We are packed like sardines in the plane, and we've been waiting on the tarmac interminably here in San Francisco. The heat has been on, blowing through the ventilation system, and it's stifling hot...wait! Now there's cool air blowing. What a relief! And we're finally moving...yay! It was interesting how everyone's inner thermostat overheated at the same time, the sweaters and sweatshirts peeling off in a choreographed and synchronized dance.

That was short-lived...we're waiting again. The worst part of traveling is getting there and getting back. As my son Zack says, “Oh! You mean...the actual traveling?” Yes. That's what I mean.

I didn't get the super-friendly pat-down at the TSA this time, thankfully, but trying to stay one step ahead of my husband was a study in frustration and anxiety. I wonder if he does it on purpose? Here's what I mean: We were waiting on the platform for the tram to the terminal, four of us, with all of our luggage. The tram arrived, people crowded on, and there wasn't room for us. Three of us hung back, and one of us jumped onto the tram at the last minute, just as the doors were closing. Guess who? Luckily, I made it aboard, just in the nick of time, and was able to tell Zack and Mel that we'd meet them at the terminal as the doors slid shut, almost cutting off my derriere. Well, big deal, right? Of course, Harry could have waited at the other end for the three of us, no problem. But he didn't have his ticket on him (one of us was carrying all four), didn't know where to exit the tram, and hadn't paid attention to which airline we were flying on, even. So, you see...it could have been interesting trying to find him while he was trying to find us! Note to self: Make a copy of the paperwork for each person to carry, and nobody gets on board anything unless everybody knows what's happening and when. Seems pretty elementary, now that I write it down on paper.

Yay! We're next on the runway! Here we go to Chicago, where we'll change planes and head to Portland, Maine. I'm very excited about meeting Melissa's family and seeing Maine in the winter.

It's a beautiful, sunny, crisp day in San Francisco. There was thick fog hugging the freeway when we left home, but it cleared, and it's gorgeous out there. Harry's in the window seat, and the view of San Francisco as I lean over him is spectacular from the air. There are lots of ships (tankers, freighters, etc.) dotting the calm, dark-blue waters of the Bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge looks majestic as it stands guard in the sunshine. Usually when I see it, it is shrouded in fog. It's an impressive bridge.

Our own tree. Note the fish on the wall.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Upon our arrival in Portland, Maine, at 11:30 p.m., we drove an hour or so to Melissa's mother's place in the fog and drizzle. Melissa is an excellent driver, and we all chatted excitedly as we made our way to our destination. Sue and Jim live in Oxford, Maine, and they couldn't have greeted us more warmly, even though it was going on 1 a.m. Sue served us some of the most amazing, absolutely scrumptious, dark-chocolate covered coconut candies that she makes. They are like Mounds...only, of course, so much better!

We are happily ensconced in half of Jim's fully-furnished rental duplex just down the road, having unpacked already. It's so much quicker to unpack than it is to pack! There were plenty of empty drawers for us to use, a pile of towels, and...the fridge is full of goodies. There's Dunkin' Donuts coffee on the kitchen counter, right by the coffeemaker, in case we don't want to go to the main house for breakfast. What superb hospitality! Oh! And there's even a decorated Christmas tree for us. Really? Really. We feel very welcomed, for sure.

Jim's a former law enforcement officer and an outdoorsman. It's pretty typical in Maine to be an outdoorsperson, I understand. So, there are nice antlers up on the wall, and the décor of the duplex is very masculine. It's his “man cave” when it isn't being used as a guest house. Pretty nice man cave, Jim!

Thoughts on today's flights: The film being shown was “The Road” with Martin Sheen. Meh. But maybe that's because it's a quiet movie, on a small screen, in a noisy plane, with terrible earphones. So, it was impossible to hear the dialog and enjoy the character development. Or whatever I was supposed to enjoy just before I drifted off to sleep.

Both planes were full, and there were many children on board. Bless them, they were all great kids. I didn't hear a single temper tantrum...just excited anticipation in their little voices. On their way to Grandma's for Christmas! Yay! It was at once astounding and understandable that there were so many e-readers and DVD players and laptops and tablets on the plane. It's obviously a great way to keep the kids occupied and interested. Which is wonderful for a parent's nerves. Peaceful coexistence. Ahhhh.....

The welcome sign at Portland International Jetport.
Pretty neat, eh?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We had a two-hour layover in Chicago, where we had a bite to eat at the food court. Come on, United. Get a few more good restaurants in your terminal, already. Harry had a pulled pork sandwich, and I had a southwest-style salad. Surprisingly, the food was quite enjoyable.

Tomorrow (well, later today, as it's 3 a.m.), we're going to make Whoopie Pies! Jim said that these have been officially (as in, there's been legislation) designated as the official dessert of Maine. They couldn't be designated as the official food of Maine, of course, because that would be LOBSTER. Hello! Yummm... Oh, this is going to be a great foodfest vacation, I can tell.

I'm looking forward to seeing the area in the daylight. It's heavily wooded, and I understand there's a lake to see nearby. It must be spectacular in the fall, when the leaves are changing to brilliant colors on the trees! There's no snow, but one still hopes for a white Christmas. Just like the ones we used to know.

Rarotonga - The Last Dance

March 1

Paradise.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved

February 26 was a hot, sticky, tropical kind of day, the steamiest of our trip. It was our last day in Raro, and nobody wanted to leave. The prospect loomed large over us, and tempers wore a bit thin. I think it was the combination of uncomfortable humidity partnered with the general moroseness one quite naturally feels when facing a separation of thousands of miles from this amazingly beautiful, calm, peaceful place.

This guy poses in the 4 directions.
Here, I'm doing my best to cover his bits...

We started our packing while waiting for a couple of us to come back from a walkabout, and then we went to market in Avarua, it being Saturday morning. And, as you'll remember, going to market is what one does on Saturday mornings. We were all sweating profusely. I'm sorry to be indelicate, but facts are facts. There's no other way to put it.

I mentioned to one of the shopkeepers that it was an awfully hot day, and she smiled and said, “Well, that's what you came here for, isn't it?” Actually, no. But I suppose, generally, she does have a point. Most people would be here to escape winter weather. But the winter weather where I live is not of the sub-freezing, blizzardy variety.

Marumaru Atua, the Cook Islands vaka.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We walked along the waterfront in Avarua, and guess what we saw? The vaka! There it was, at full sail, just outside the reef. It was making its way into the harbor, with a whole bunch of people on board. We watched (in the shade) as it approached the dock by Captain Jack's, and then we walked on over to have a closer look. I tried to imagine crossing the ocean on this vessel, but I couldn't quite picture myself doing it. Especially in high seas. The Voyagers are a brave and adventurous bunch!

Marumaru Atua at Treasure Island
(near San Francisco)
We visited, as promised. Can you spot Brown?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We took some pictures and then tried to think of something to take home to cook for dinner. Everything pretty much closes at 1 or 2 on Saturday afternoon so everyone can get ready for Sunday, except a few of the pricier places, and we needed to think about what we still had left to do in order to be ready to leave on time. Frankly, I thought I'd rather miss the plane, but then there would be the small problem of no money and no place to stay. Not a happy prospect, eh? But surely there's something an enthusiastic and vivacious person such as myself could do to earn a small but sufficient living here? Anyway, we had just eaten at the market, and nothing sounded good. So, we went home empty-handed, a development we would come to rue.

We went for our last snorkel, always sort of a sad and melancholy thing. Goodbye, big, beautiful fishes and other serene sea creatures. Goodbye, lovely coral heads teeming with itsy bitsy fishies of many colors and shapes. Goodbye, refreshing and clear lagoon. Goodbye, coral reef off in the distance, breaking up the thunderous waves that come crashing upon you. If you have tears in your eyes, well, so did I.

The light from the flash reflecting from the sky's tears.
A torrential downpour on our last evening in Raro.
Looks like snow, but it's huge raindrops!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Bob took the car back to the rental agency, and so now we had no transportation but our feet. So, we thought we might walk over to the PawPaw Patch for dinner. It was dark, but the PawPaw is an easy distance from the Coral Villa. Except that the skies opened up and started crying because we were leaving soon. I mean, buckets of tears. A torrent of emotion that kept on going, and going, and going. There was just no relief for the deep sorrow the island was experiencing. The downpour continued and did not stop. Somehow, I was able to draw solace from the fact that Raro was going to miss me just as much as I was going to miss Raro. And the rain continued. We were unable to go get dinner.

So, we finished packing and chatted while awaiting the shuttle to the airport. Such sad times! Rongo (the manager) came to bid us farewell and wanted to hear all about our adventures, which lightened the mood a bit. She is experienced at such things, and it showed. Thank you, Rongo, for making us feel so sure that we would indeed be back again, and soon.

Rongo and a friend on a
sunnier day.
Thank you, Rongo!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

The shuttle arrived, we loaded up our bags, and we said our goodbyes to Rongo. It was so kind of her to stay with us until the bitter end. In retrospect, though, she probably needed to make sure we were actually vacating the premises! But she never let us think that at the time, not even for a second. The air conditioning in the shuttle was going full blast, and it was just freezing in there. Or so it seemed to me. I hadn't really experienced a whole lot of air conditioning while in Raro, preferring the sea breezes.

We got to the airport in plenty of time to check out the souvenir shops after checking in (a long line of dejected people, hating to leave). Harry got a Cook Islands Police hat, which he has since given to a guy at the VA [military veterans' clinic] who thought it was cool. Just sharing the love.

I purchased one last flat white, even though it's a hot drink and the temperature in the terminal was quite warm (no air conditioning there).

On the plane, I was seated next to a Rarotongan young man who works at the Rarotongan resort. We chatted about slow internet speeds and so on, and he talked about property fights and loose women and STDs and unwed mothers and lazy islanders...it was interesting, for sure, to hear his perspective on things. It certainly wasn't the picture I'd painted in my head and didn't match my experiences at all. Then again, I'd only been there two weeks. I wonder. At any rate, it just goes to show, there's always more to a story than meets the eye. And I still want to go back. So there.

Arriving in Los Angeles. There's snow on the mountains.
Feeling sad...
Photo taken by my Rarotongan friend with my camera.
He had the window seat.

When we were landing in Los Angeles (where the TSA people just about ruined our whole vacation, but I won't discuss that here), the mountains were snow-capped. My new friend had a hard time wrapping his head around that! “Is that SNOW?!” he asked incredulously; and, “I'm going to freeze!” he declared. I'm sure the friends he is visiting will be able to provide him with cold weather gear, if he needs it. Just because there's snow on the mountain tops doesn't mean it's cold down below at all. It's LA. Swimming pools. Movie stars.

Leaving Rarotonga was so hard. There's nothing new there. I seem to fall in love with every place we visit. The cultures, the foods, the views, and, of course, the people, all have their own charm and value. All so different, yet, in a strange way, all the same. The family of man. The children of God. Aere ra, goodbye, until we meet again.

The five of us on the beach. Happy times.
Photo by the neighbors from New Zealand. Thank you!

Rarotonga - A Wedding and Captain Tama's Lagoon Cruize

February 25

Kia Orana! The weather is gone, and it's a glorious day for the island wedding down the beach, which we're keeping an eye on from afar so as to give the wedding party and assembled guests the benefit of the privacy we've ourselves been enjoying here in Rarotonga. The wedding is taking place behind the fellowship hall of the church, which faces the street and backs up to the beach. There's an arch that's been prepared, and it's covered with greenery and beautiful flowers. The native bride is radiant, her lovely skin a dark tan, in sharp (and very attractive) contrast to the snow-white flounces of her long wedding gown, which traces a smooth finish in the sand as she walks slowly towards her Prince Charming...oh, sorry...I got carried away with myself. It is a very romantic scene, to be sure, and all of us down the beach send them our very best wishes and most hearty congratulations as they exchange their timeless vows. May theirs be a marriage that lasts a lifetime and brings them and their families every happiness.

Photo by Bob. All rights reserved.

The sore throat has been greatly helped by the Hall's that Bob found, and the ibuprofen has done the trick. Also the Pepto Bismol. I guess I caught whatever virus Karen had. So, I didn't feel 100% this morning, but I decided to join the group for the glass-bottom boat lagoon cruise at Muri, Captain Tama's (www.captaintamas.com). Am I ever glad I did!

Our “cruise director,” Brown Apera, aka Captain Chocolate, aka Brown Island Boy, aka just plain Brown, was simply incomparable. He's full of energy, very charismatic, supremely knowledgeable about marine life (whale research) as well as island life.

Fun times at Captain Tama's.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

While we waited at Muri Beach for the outing to begin, “the boys” entertained us with drumming, ukelele tunes, jokes, and “get acquainted” moments such as the “dance lesson” for a hapless man and woman in the crowd. This part is all designed to relax and please, and it succeeds on every count.

Once we were all loaded up into the boats and the count had carefully been made – one wouldn't wish to be lost in transit – “the boys” took us snorkeling “at the giant clams” at Fruits of Rarotonga. Now, I'd seen some largish clams on our other snorkels, but these ones were much, much larger. And instead of being tightly closed, with just the bright, purplish blue border showing, these ones were wide open, the membrane/muscle/diaphragm stretched out. I could see the clams “breathing” in and out rhythmically. It was absolutely mesmerizing, something I'd never seen, a wonderful and beautiful display. I was thrilled.

Cooking for us. Yum!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

After that, we motored over to one of the little islands in the lagoon for a BBQ prepared just for us. The guys cooked a really tasty meal of yellow-tail tuna and bananas and onion and potato salad (with coconut cream...come on!) and cole slaw (with coconut cream again) and pawpaw and “coconut rice” (grated coconut, freshly done right there in front of us in record time) and starfruit and watermelon. It was all served buffet-style. Help yourself, but please eat it all. Remember: This could be your last meal!

I naturally was drawn to the “kitchen” area during the preparation, because I love to observe men at work. But I was told to “get out of my kitchen, woman!” Okay, fine. Just put down the big knife you're pointing at me, dude.

Grating the coconut.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Again, grace was said before the meal. So, the luau the other night wasn't a fluke. And then, after lunch, “Chocolate” demonstrated opening and grating the coconut and making coconut cream, which he put on the arms of the ladies – to very good effect, I must say! It makes your skin so soft, and it smells amazing. Naturally, all of this was done in his enthusiastic, humorous way with informative running commentary.

Next, we were shown about a dozen different ways to tie a pareu, using two young and beautiful tourist ladies. There was a “costume malfunction” when one of the ties didn't quite withstand a tug. I guess that's why there was an admonition to wear a bikini under the pareu at all times. Oops!

Nice tats, eh?
Photo by Bob. All rights reserved.

Several of the guys have the most beautiful Polynesian tattoos. Brown especially. His are amazing, done the traditional way. And the fact that he wears them so well certainly does no harm. The nipple piercings with the black pearls were are maybe a bit over the top, but what do I know? I'm not up on these things.

There's a vaka (a Polynesian sailing vessel that looks sort of like a catamaran) joining other Pacific Voyagers sailing from New Zealand and Tonga and picking up more along the way through Tahiti and the Marquesas to Pearl Harbor to peacefully and respectfully ask the Navy to stop sonar experiments, because it harms the whales. After that, they'll come on a good will/cultural exchange/ecology education mission to San Francisco, from where they'll head south along the California coast, then make their way back to their individual islands. Brown plans to participate. We said we would see him in California. [Note: He did participate. We eagerly followed the voyagers' progress through the Pacific Voyagers website and Facebook page, and I watched online as the “canoes” came under the Golden Gate Bridge last summer. What a sight it was! We went to Treasure Island for the “meet and greet,” and we spied Brown charming the people on the vaka out in the water, where they were getting a ride. It made us smile.]

So, when you visit Raro, be sure to go to Muri Beach to hang out with Captain Tama's Boys. We all considered this outing to be a wonderful bargain as well as a highlight of our visit to the Rock. Don't miss it. You won't be disappointed.

And to remind you of another attraction you won't be disappointed to check out, here's a video taken by Jo (all rights reserved) of some of the amazing dancing at Te Vara Nui Village. 

Interesting factoid: The cigarette packs down here have the most graphic and gorey pictures of various cancers caused by smoking. Ick. Jo is collecting them to show to folks back home, and the Aussie kids in the Hibiscus smoke. So, they're saving the packs for her. I guess the images don't really encourage people to stop smoking.

Hint: Don't park under a coconut tree. I heard that's how you can tell the tourists from the natives, but I'm sure that's a joke. Although, natives would know that sort of thing. And tourists would soon figure it out. Coconuts make nasty dents in roofs and hoods. No, not ours.

Another hint: Look to the right-left-right before crossing the road, instead of left-right-left, or you could easily be hit when stepping into traffic. And remember not to drive on the right, or you'll hit someone head-on. No, not us. Traffic cones...watch out for those.

Harry and I on the beach at sunset. With Jack,
the three-legged dog.
Photo by Bob. All rights reserved.

Tonight, we went to a burger stand for a burger and fries (very good fries). I asked for the Palace burger for Harry (2 meat patties, cheese, eggs, bacon...the kitchen sink). But they were out. How can that be? So, I asked for the next burger down the menu. Sorry, not making it. Why would they take the time to describe it to you, only to then tell you they don't have it?! So, we ended up with Hawaiian burgers and chips. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Oh! Paper products are very expensive here, and there isn't a lot of space for a county dump. You might have to ask for a napkin. You will get one small paper napkin. One. A small one. Try to make do with it.

It's our last night in Rarotonga, and it's hard to believe we've been here nearly two weeks. The time has flown by, and I'm not ready to go home. Today has been a great day. Tomorrow is going to be hard for me.  

Rarotonga - A Walk on the Beach, Dinner at Captain Jack's

February 24

Last night, the waves breaking on the reef sounded like a freight train. We wonder if there is a storm out to sea, as this is hurricane season. When the clouds cleared a bit over the house, the stars were bright and clear. So many stars! All those dots in the sky, and here we are on a dot in the ocean. It's enough to make a person feel insignificant, except that each one of us is so very important.

It was a cool night (or, it could have just been me, alternately freezing and sweating). I have a sore throat and other unpleasantness this morning, and I'm taking it easy today with slow walks on the beach.

Meandering on the beach always makes me think of my excellent mother. A walk on the beach, occasionally getting her feet wet, breathing in the salt air and looking at the waves – That's a perfect moment for my mom. And for me, too. Especially on this beach, which has nobody on it but me. Nothing but the sound of the ocean and the birds. The crunch my feet make in the sand and my breath as it goes in and out. I can practically hear my heart beating, at one with nature.

I love these blue starfish.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

The tide was very low (but not tsunami low, so no worries), and the water was clear and warm. I saw a little octopus in one of the coral heads close to shore, and also a couple of big, blue starfish, and schools of little fishies swimming close to shore. I picked up a few seashells, a couple of which hadn't yet been vacated by their inhabitants. Man, do they ever hurry away, given half a chance to do so.

It was another unusually cool and rainy day in paradise today as I sorted out my thoughts and willed my body to be well. It seems odd to be cool enough to want to wear a light sweater here! It's still very pleasant, though. Very pleasant indeed. Home seems very, very far away. In a good way.

On the waterfront by the harbor. See how low the tide is?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Tonight, we went to dinner at Trader Jack's in Avarua. Trader Jack's is right on the harbor, on the waterfront. The view is amazing, but, of course, the views everywhere are amazing. Still, if you're looking for someplace convenient and good and relatively reasonably priced to have your “our vacation is almost over dinner,” you can't go wrong here. Harry and I shared a mixed seafood plate. At $35NZ per person, it was an incredible deal: ike mata, tuna sashimi, some sushi, lobster, shrimp, scallops, calamari, and raw oysters on the half-shell. Yes, against my better judgment, I did have an oyster. The last time I had an oyster, it about gagged me with a spoon. But I wasn't going to let that stop me. Tastes change, yes? And this particular oyster? Oh, my! Smooth, silky, like butter. So fresh! It tasted like the ocean. And so, I think I just might try oysters again. Yes. I liked it. Surprise!

For dessert, we had black bean sticky rice with papaya – a big bowl of sticky rice and a separate bowl of papaya. What a meal.

Why would anyone want to leave?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

I think I'll stay here. I am not at all ready to go home the day after tomorrow. Maybe, if I refuse to pay the exit tax, they'll tell me I have to stay. That would be tragic, don't you agree?

Tomorrow, we plan to go on an organized snorkel trip with Captain Tama's Famous Lagoon Cruizes, where we're told we will see some giant clams. Looking forward to that, so I hope I feel a bit better.

Rarotonga - Attack of the Huma Humas

February 23...Oh, my! That's awfully close to February 26. Don't think of that now. It's amazing how time flies by here. A person really should come for a whole month. At least a whole month. Or two. Or three...

It's the first really rainy and/or completely overcast day we've had, which is pretty spectacular. So, we went looking for some art by Tim Buchanan. We didn't have any luck there, but it was a very good day for souvenir shopping and for strictly-window-shopping at higher end stores featuring $3,500 quilts, $300 dresses, $200+ traditional Cook Islander hats, and so on. I am talking here about superior quality, handmade, beautiful, really-really-nice things. Things I cannot afford, unfortunately. Perhaps, if I plan ahead, next time?

Snorkeling at The Rarotongan.
Photo by Bob Hampton. All rights reserved.

We decided to give the snorkeling at The Rarotongan another go (Thank you, Bob, for hearing my plea!). It was fabulous. Okay, it was FABULOUS!!! The water was crystal clear. There were lots of gorgeous fishies of all sizes and shapes. Even a green moray eel! Lots of huma huma trigger fish (one of which decided it would be a terrific idea to attack the glass on my mask, and another of which decided it would be a stellar idea to bite Bob on the leg, all in, we're guessing, attempts to protect the babies swimming about?), many damsels, schools of parrot fish, etc. There was no sunlight filtering through (obviously, since it was cloudy), but there was plenty of light in the water, which was shallow. How great to be able to relax because you can see around you! YAY! The best snorkel ever!

A trigger about to attack me.
Photo by Bob Hampton. All rights reserved.

One thing, though, is that I got super cold while snorkeling today (a first). How can you get cold and feel like you've got arthritis in your hands in such warm weather? Bob says it's probably because of all the energy I was expending, but how is that possible? I was just floating there, breathing through a tube and, occasionally, using my flippers. When we got out of the water, I was shaking and shivering, and my fingernails were blue. How weird! I wanted one of those fabulous flat whites tout de suite. But Bob had no mercy, and soon we were back at the Coral villa, where I took a “hot” shower in tepid water to warm up. (The hot water heater is solar. No sun, no hot water. Sun, blazing hot water.)

Karen has a sore throat today, but that didn't stop her from participating. She doesn't have time to feel sick, 'cause she's on vacation!

The guys having a chat.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

A fun thing happened in town today. Harry was wearing his new, just-purchased Mongoose Rugby Avatiu Nikao Golden Oldies tank top. This guy comes up to him and says, “Nice shirt you're wearing, but I don't remember seeing you at practice...” HA! It was the team co-captain, and he was wearing his team shirt. How cool is that? It made Harry's whole vacation. They chatted for a while, and, yes, of course, I took their photo together. Come on...so would you...admit it.

Jo has prepared a cocktail we've dubbed “Coral Sunset” (equal parts pineapple, papaya, and coconut juices, some tequila and ice, blended) with little canapes. Bob is cooking dinner. I could get used to this...

Oh. More weirdness: I used conditioner on my hair today, and it got oily, of all things. My hair is never oily. And it has a nice, soft curl here, too. I think I was meant to live here or Aruba or Bonaire or Kauai or some other island paradise. Or on a cruise ship, maybe, like that joke about how it's cheaper to live on a cruise ship than in a retirement home. That way, I can go from island paradise to island paradise to island paradise...ahhhh.

When you're surrounded by intense beauty,
you get inspired to doll up your platings.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

What we're doing right now: Harry is doing a crossword. Karen is on a lounge chair on the deck. Jo is reading a book. Bob is checking the chicken. I am writing to you. Life, at this moment, is jam-packed with the favor of the Father. Thank you, Papa, for this gift of refreshment, which I needed so much without realizing. But you know all. You knew I needed to see this place that you created and be surrounded by its intense beauty and touched by its lovely people. You amaze me. You are so good!

Rarotonga - Black Rocks and Black Pearls

Kia Orana and Happy New Year, everybody! I took a little break from my travel diary over the holidays and went to Maine for Christmas. More on that later! So, here we go with more adventures in Rarotonga:

February 22

Sunrise in Rarotonga
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

I'm not one to wake up really early in the morning. For some reason, though, that's what happened today. I was in bed, trying to go back to sleep to no avail. And so I thought I'd go ahead and get up to see the sunrise. I know. That just isn't me, is it? Bob is usually the one who gets up with the chickens, but he was still sleeping as I went out onto the deck in the dark to wait patiently, alone.

And then the pinks and oranges pierced the night sky with increasing intensity and saturation of color. Wow! What a sight as the water reflected the sunrise, bringing it right to the beach below me. I've never seen a sunrise like this one anywhere, ever. And I did feel as though this particular sunrise was just for me, somehow. I was overwhelmed and grateful and moved to tears. Really, this island shouldn't still be trying so hard to win me over. It's a done deal.

The bigger the shell, the bigger the inhabitant.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We went to Black Rocks this morning in an effort to find really cool seashells, as there aren't really any at our place. We did find a few. Harry likes the cone-shaped ones that are super-heavy...so, we won't be able to take them home. I'm not sure if this is fortunate or unfortunate. They're out on the deck right now, in case anybody is still living in there. One of his tiny seashells walked off (well, the little crab inside walked off with his residence).

Bob and Karen went snorkeling at Black Rocks, which is reputed to be a good spot; however, they came right back out. The water wasn't clear, and they said the current was really strong and dragging them along at breakneck speeds. Bob said there was no redeeming value. That's too bad, because it looked really nice from the shore.

Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

On the way back to our place, we stopped at the meat market that's right next door to Cook's Brewery. So, we had a taste at Cook's, and it was good. And so was the chicken from the meat market that Karen BBQ'd for dinner. Very yummy indeed!

We also stopped at the black pearl shop, where Jo bought something “for Robin.” If Jo finds something else that she likes better “for Robin,” then today's purchase will be “for Jo.” I recognized the salesgirl (Saleswoman? Salesperson? Please don't be offended) from the black pearl shop at the Saturday market.

The music that was playing in the store was worship music, but I couldn't hear it well enough to identify it, so I asked who it was. Hillsong. Of course. She seemed pleased that I had recognized it as worship music, at least, and we chatted a bit. I told her that one of the greatest gifts I am taking home in my heart is how wonderful it is that Rarotongans are not ashamed of the Gospel, and how encouraging that is to me. She thinks that the people in America have sort of lost their way. She looked so sad as she was sharing her thoughts with me, and we both had tears in our eyes. Our conversation was very heart-felt and moving. I need to come back to this place “on a mission” to help with Vacation Bible School or something! I'm sure I could learn a lot.

It rained today, so it's a bit cooler and less muggy tonight. I'm wearing the pareu I bought in Puerto Rico tonight, and it's very comfortable. It's relaxing to sit and read (and/or write, as I'm doing now) and slow down. This pace of life is fantastically restful and agreeable. I'm not looking forward to returning to the rush, rush, rush of the world back home.

We went snorkeling at Fruits of Rarotonga this afternoon. It's reputed to be the best spot on the island. The snorkeling there is easy, and there was a wide variety of sea creatures. But, again, the water was cloudy. (Please note that when I say the water was cloudy, I am speaking in relative terms.)

Bet you thought this blue starfish was on the beach.
But it wasn't. It was underwater!
Photo by Chris (above the water). All rights reserved.

I asked Bob if we can go back to The Rarotongan for a snorkel at some point, as (aside from our place) that's been the best so far. Our place is awesome! I look out at the lagoon from our beachside deck, and I can't imagine a better situated, more lovely spot. I'm in paradise.