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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Intriguing folding trees.
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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.
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A ruin not far from my mother's house provided some intriguing photographic opportunities.
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The Cookie Islanders are fiercely religious and the island has a large number of centres of worship.
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Note that the graves are above ground; the island is made of crushed coral and volcanic rock.
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Life and death share equal space in people's lives as local law states that people can be interred on private land.
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The dominant cone at the centre of the island.
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The misty mountains during a storm.
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More in a bit.