When I hear New Zealand and “free association” in the same sentence, I think of many things: Flight of the Conchords, sheep, Sauvignon Blanc, more sheep, the Maori, still more sheep, kiwis, plenty more sheep, wonderful people who are far from sheep, and stunning scenery. I do not, however, think of the Cook Islands (I can’t say I’ve ever thought about the Cook Islands), but in some weird political arrangement, the Cook Islands are an independent, self-governing country in “free association” with New Zealand. Most Cook Islanders hold double citizenship with New Zealand, and the currency on the islands is the New Zealand dollar.
With that introduction, I bid you kia orana from Rarotonga, the largest of the Cook Islands. We docked today offshore from Avarua, the nation’s capital, and tendered in to find a small town composed of building supply companies, churches (a recurring theme; see below), bike rental places, water sports emporia, a modest market, and a brewery, which I regretfully did not visit.
Rarotonga is a haven for water sports, with a large lagoon and several beaches attracting divers, snorkelers, stand-up paddleboarders, and various other lovers of things aquatic. Despite the allure of the sea, my brother and I rented bikes (for the equivalent of around $20 US) and circumnavigated the island’s 32 km ring road. (My brother did some snorkeling along the way while I remained ashore. He saw triggerfish, zebra fish, and other colorful reef denizens. Some of our shipmates also saw moray eels and parrotfish.)
We got our bikes from Ride Rarotonga, where the staff was friendly and helpful and the bikes were in significantly better shape than your humble blogger. Unfortunately, the “comfort bikes” – traditional cycles with padded seats – had all been rented, and we passed on e-bikes because the road is flat. As a result, we ended up on mountain bikes with granite-hard seats.
For the first 11 kilometers this wasn’t a big problem because the road was freshly paved. Then conditions deteriorated: for most of the remaining 21 kilometers, we bumped over patched potholes with enough shaking to prepare a perfect martini for James Bond.
Don’t be put off by this – with a more comfortable seat the ride would have been fine. A couple of other people on the ship rented e-bikes and had no complaints; they’d learned their lesson after riding mountain bikes in Bora Bora.
Traffic outside of Avarua was light, and drivers give cyclists a wide berth. The ring road offers beautiful views of the island, from the cloud-shrouded central mountain to the dazzling waters.
Vegatation along the road is lush, and the roadside houses are in perfect trim. The route skirts several beaches and passes more churches than the island’s small population would seem to support (there are fewer than 15,000 people on the island, and we easily saw twenty-five churches of various denominations, as well as two Bahai tamples), quite a few cemeteries, occasional goats, and an endless parade of raucous roosters.
Not far off the road you can get to the ruins of marae (temple platforms). There is also a nearby waterfall, but the island hasn’t had much rain for several months and a guide told us the waterfall had no water to fall.
We’re now en route to Pago Pago in American Samoa. See you in a couple of days!
PuffinlessTravel 