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I stand on the fringes of the Pacific Ocean and gaze out at the interminable distance I’ve yet to travel. Resonating in my head are the soothing tones of a song I first listened to in 2006 when I was planning a different trip around the world and visualising what the Cook Islands might be like. 3 years later the daydream had become a reality while the music had retained its pertinence.
The Cook Islands are territorially one of the most isolated clusters in all of the Pacific, but they’re also one of the more tourist friendly, especially among honeymooners. Why then would I want to come to a place such as this, alone, and without a new wife? Well after 34,000 miles of fevered travelling, the idea of some respite in surroundings such as these was a welcome one.
Packing our suitcases has become a recurring theme of this trip – we’re never in any one place for more than a couple of days. Yet while there would be some young gappers out there who might look down their noses at such an approach, I’m of the view that with relative brevity comes greater intensity and willingness to absorb. I appreciate it, breathe it in, and then move on.
