My mother lives on the Pacific island of Rarotonga, the main one of the Cook Islands. With my trusty Nikon D5500 in hand, I went home to see my mother for the first time in a couple of years. Here are some snaps from my trip.
My ride to the Cookie Islands.
This is the abandoned Sheraton Hotel; it was never finished and never opened. Vast sums of money disappeared during its construction, so since the late 1990s it has been slowly but inexorably deteriorating.
On private land, I payed a small fee to tramp about in the mud and undergrowth round the site, but the results are worth it for a nosey.
Various enterprising individuals have put up finance to attempt to revive the site over the years, but the infrastructure's too far gone and the site remains a mute reminder of the greed of man on the south side of the island.
Intriguing folding trees.
This twin hulled vaka sailed from new Zealand a few years back as a reminder of the past voyages of the Pacific Islanders as seafarers.
A ruin not far from my mother's house provided some intriguing photographic opportunities.
The Cookie Islanders are fiercely religious and the island has a large number of centres of worship.
Note that the graves are above ground; the island is made of crushed coral and volcanic rock.
Life and death share equal space in people's lives as local law states that people can be interred on private land.
The dominant cone at the centre of the island.
The misty mountains during a storm.
More in a bit.
My ride to the Cookie Islands.
This is the abandoned Sheraton Hotel; it was never finished and never opened. Vast sums of money disappeared during its construction, so since the late 1990s it has been slowly but inexorably deteriorating.
On private land, I payed a small fee to tramp about in the mud and undergrowth round the site, but the results are worth it for a nosey.
Various enterprising individuals have put up finance to attempt to revive the site over the years, but the infrastructure's too far gone and the site remains a mute reminder of the greed of man on the south side of the island.
Intriguing folding trees.
This twin hulled vaka sailed from new Zealand a few years back as a reminder of the past voyages of the Pacific Islanders as seafarers.
A ruin not far from my mother's house provided some intriguing photographic opportunities.
The Cookie Islanders are fiercely religious and the island has a large number of centres of worship.
Note that the graves are above ground; the island is made of crushed coral and volcanic rock.
Life and death share equal space in people's lives as local law states that people can be interred on private land.
The dominant cone at the centre of the island.
The misty mountains during a storm.
More in a bit.