Balance

I phoned around every resort on the island and told each of them our story. Some offered sympathy in reduced rates but others only responded with words. The final outcome was a choice of two, and the difference in price between them was fractional compared to the quality. Now, was not a time to be cheap; we had a holiday to save.

The Muri Beach Club Hotel looked impressive in the pictures, but was nothing compared to the real thing. We felt like imposters, beggars almost, as we arrived in the plush marble reception, soaked from the rain and carrying our backpacks. We were shown to our room and once again questioned whether we were in the right place. Surely this room wasn’t ours? I must have misheard how much she quoted.

Before we left the lodge, I’d phoned the police again and asked if there was any update on the search. They’d arrested one kid and had a bag. What bag? My bag? I described our bag, confirmed it was mine and asked them to list the contents. Red t-shirt. Yes. White T-shirt. Yes, yes. Black trousers. Yes, come on. Sony Playstation. Eu-bloody-reka! Still, no cause to break out the champers just yet; it had been raining all night, and even more today. Unless it had been protected, it was highly likely the PSP was now downgraded to an expensive paper weight. I said these things to try and stop my hopes from soaring, from being too happy, but my optimism is a powerful attribute.

The weather improved, so we caught a bus to the old accommodation, picked up the scooter, and raced into town – thank God it’s a small island. Of course the rain started again soon after starting up the scooter, and we were drenched by the time we got to the police station, but mustn’t grumble.

The bag was brought out and we shifted through the contents. It felt strange pulling out, what the burglars had hastily stuffed in. All the clothes were damp. Not a good start. 1/3 of the vodka remained. Better. The PSP was there, and although damp, some life remained.

The sergeant told us that they’re captured the kid, after finding him laughing his head off, pissed out of his thieving little mind & sitting on the beach. The vodka had brought the perpetrator into the arms of the law and justice to Rarotonga. I’ve always maintained that booze has been good to me.

Back at the hotel, we scraped off our saturated clothes, stepped into the enormous shower, and then slipped into bed. The hotel movie channel would see us through the rest of this rain, and plenty of food and booze would get us through the evening. That night, we dined gloriously.
The morning rain washed off any signs of a hangover, and the afternoon brought us something wonderful. Something we’d been wishing for, for days; the touch of sunshine. Like addicted fiends we chased the sun for all it was worth, as it made its descent into the west. By the time we were on the other side of the island though, it had disappeared from view. We hoped for its return tomorrow.

The curtains were thick in our room, but the difference in the morning light shining around the edges was unmistakable. When we pulled back the curtains our joy was incredible. Please let this last.

We ate breakfast, hardly looking at our plates; just staring outside, and smiling at each other. Almost afraid it would be gone soon, we went outside straight after and starting taking as many photos as possible. The transformation was miraculous. We’d left our holiday hell and walked into paradise.

There isn’t a great deal to see on the island, but one thing we said we would check out was the waterfall, and considering the drowning this place enjoyed over the last few days, we expected it to be in full flow. We zipped up the dirt track on our scooter, and joined the other tourists at the top to see the spectacle. While others held back, we stepped past them and up to the water’s edge. This turned out to be the mosquito buffet area, and they immediately stepped up for their fill. Before Lucie could snap a single photo, at least ten of the little suckers were seated for dinner on the backs of her legs. Now we knew why everyone else kept their distance.
Back on the beach, everything was perfect. Ipod soothing the soul, the sun browning skin, and dips into the lagoon cooling our bodies. This was the kind of holiday we wanted, that we deserved. Imagine how good it would’ve been if it just started here. It would take a lot to convince us to stay in a standalone studio again. It would be resorts all the way from now on. Well, on holiday at least.

In the afternoon, we took a kayak around Muri lagoon, circling the islands and stopping to snorkel whenever the fancy took us. It really was beautiful. Such purity in all directions.

In the evening, we walked along the shore to a recommended restaurant and had our last dinner on the island. We treated ourselves to a lavish feast with cocktails and cake for dessert. Afterwards we took the longest 100 metre stroll in history - dodging crabs, watching shooting stars, and taking silly photos.

The next morning, and our last on the island, I managed to squeeze a dive in. I’d have needed at least 24 hours before flying to do two dives but could safely dive once with the 16 hours that remained. The dive was impressive for the visibility (around 20 metres) although this was considered very poor for the island, but I didn’t see much of great excitement. A beautiful Lionfish was a high point, but other than that, it was just a peaceful experience that I consistently enjoy.
While I was 30 metres below sea level, Lucie was floating a metre above it, enjoying a scrub and a massage in the hotel health spa. The afternoon was a beach affair for both of us, and in the evening we tried out a cultural night. Unfortunately our first choice of venue was booked up and the 2nd choice didn’t exactly impress. We wondered how authentic the night would be if the intro performance had a stereo system backing beat, so our patience didn’t hold out for the main show. In truth, this was also attributed to the fact we knew our departure was only hours away. We found it hard to enjoy ourselves when we knew our holiday was coming to an end. Months of looking forward and now it was to be imminently behind us. How cruel the movement of time is.

We dozed for an hour or so back at our room before the taxi took us to the airport and then we slept for most of the flight back to Auckland. When we got back to our home around 6am, we made for bed straight away. A few hours of rest and the feeling we had when first waking up in Rarotonga was reversed. It was back to the real life. Back to responsibilities and city living.
From the moment we’d arrived at the Muri Beach Club Hotel, we wondered if the price she’d quoted was incorrect; there had to be some hidden charges. Throughout our stay, we were consistently impressed with the quality of the accommodation, the food, and the entertainment (some of the best amateur singers I have ever heard). Even when we requested a late check-out, they charged us a third of the standard price and asked no set time for us to be out by. The price for the room was exactly as stated.

Back in Auckland, our curiosity got the better of us and we searched for the hotel online. There we found the standard prices for each of the room types available. It turned out, ours was the most expensive available and we’d been paying over $400 less a night than it should’ve been. That’s almost worth getting burgled for. We would never have stayed here unless that horrible event occurred and considering that I had most of my things returned to me, including the most valuable item, we felt slightly lucky. I’d say very lucky but the weather had to balance that out, didn’t it.