During the second week of our stay on Rarotonga we ventured out for a day on one of the outer islands.  Just a quick zip in the clouds and we landed on the quaint airstrip and were whisked away on our tour. Aitutaki makes Raro feel like a metropolis, which it certainly is not; but with Aitutaki’s permanent population hovering around 2,000 it’s definitely got a small island feel to it.

There were probably around a dozen or so of us on the tour, sister and I were the youngest (by far), except for one lone wolf dude that kept to himself (I never heard him talk). But that was a common thread. No one was chatting. They were stoic, serious, vacationers. So strange. People are strange. Old rich people are strange. I can have my opinions, try and stop me.  There’s always that one though, über old; I’ll get to them. After a jaunt around the island, (not much to see, sorry) we boarded our strange cruise boat thing, pontoon type thing and settled in. The empty seats were filled with locals, (for free? yes, seriously) and we puttered around the corner to some fancy resort and picked up a couple raisins. Cute as buttons raisins don’t get me wrong, but holy moly. Maneuvering in the sandy shallows with geriatric shoes, two canes and helpers on each arm, and up the stairs onto a rocking boat. Good times. Old people love me. I think it’s my face. I’m normal looking enough (plain?) that I can pass for any generic granddaughter. Between naps they were sweet angels. Next subject.

We puttered out to a reef, and got to snorkelling. I suck at snorkelling, not my favourite thing to do. I’m not sure what it is, my chest gets all tight, I can’t breathe properly, I can’t see what’s around me. I can’t get away from bad things (ie angler fish/humbolt squids). It makes me nervous. I think I’m going to drown… in 4 feet of water. It’s not for me, I’d rather be floating face up, up to the sky, not down to the sand.

So after I snorkelled momentarily, I got out, and a guy got bit by a big ol fish. Fish like shiny things (don’t we all) and thought they’d try to nibble his wrist off. So he comes back on board dripping his blood around, the staff are at a loss, fumbling around with gauze, dressings, attempting to wrap it. It was a big big mess. Hopefully it didn’t get too infected in the long run.

There was a bit of a rain squall, so it wasn’t beautiful picture perfect atolls like we were hoping for. We stopped by numerous islands, an island where there was once a season of Survivor filmed, Sister Islands, One Foot Is., they were all beautiful. But honestly, maybe I’m biased, Raro is just burned in my head as this most idyllic of places. I’m more than glad that we went on the tour, they supplied a lovely lunch as well, and the crew were more than hilarious. But unless Air Raro starts offering seat sales, I’m not sure I’d go for a round two.