The mud was coming up over the tyres at an alarming rate. My son was starting to panic. Although he usually loves mud, apparently this mud was different because it’s ‘’not the same as the mud from home,” not exactly what you expect when you imagine a laid-back Rarotonga holiday. I pointed out that it’s actually much cleaner than the stinky, stagnant mud on our property, but it’s impossible to reason with a five-year-old.
The buggy slipped into a rut on the well-driven dirt track fronting the abandoned Sheraton resort, a phantom building that sits in a prime location in a jungle clearing. Both mud and water were spraying in all directions, and the yellow, open-sided buggy no longer had a sunny outlook. Every square inch of this vehicle that was built for fun was now mottled with brown mud, including its two passengers.
My son was starting to sound intense. ‘’I’d better get him out of here before this goes pear-shaped,’’ I thought to myself, stomping my foot down on the accelerator harder. This unskilled attempt to reach dryer ground resulted in the buggy stalling in a rut of mud and water.
Mud, buggies and letting kids be kids
VROOOOOM.
My husband zoomed past with my daughter, who was a week shy of turning three. I could hear her yelling, ‘’This is fuuuuunnnn!’’ followed by squeals of laughter and excitement as her dad sprayed mud on us. ‘’No, it’s not … its muddy,’’ mumbled my son grumpily. I couldn’t help myself and began laughing. What five-year-old doesn’t enjoy a good dose of mud?
Someone from Raro Buggy Tours eventually came to the rescue, and after a hose off and quick swing at the golf driving range, we all headed to Wigmore’s Waterfall. Fortunately, it had rained a few days ago (hence the mud), so there was a nice waterfall cascading down into the swimming hole.
Waterfalls, wild swimming and slowing down
Everyone headed into the water to wash off the last of the mud, our youngest deciding to go in as naked as the day she arrived. No one minded; kids are allowed to be kids here.
One of the Raro Buggy tour operators climbed out of the waterhole and scaled the moss coloured rocks, confidently placing hands and feet with every scale upwards. Just when he reached a height that I could no longer watch, he looked down, pushed off from the rocks and spread his arms and legs out like Superman. Upon reaching the water, he expertly tucked his legs up and entered in cannonball style.
‘’Can I do that too?’’ my son asked. ‘’Um…maybe when you’re a bit older and I’m not watching,’’ I replied. We got tired of being mosquito fodder and headed to the Foodbox, a casual restaurant that served up delicious bite-sized burgers, of which I needed two to fill my stomach.
Food, night markets and unexpected highlights
Although known for its crystal-clear waters fringed by coconut trees, one of my favourite things about the Cook Islands – and something I didn’t fully appreciate before our Rarotonga holiday – is actually the food. In particular, the food at the Muri Night Market, and if we’re being specific, the slow-cooked pork belly. My family is not really one for fancy restaurants, so eating pork belly and roast potatoes slow-cooked to perfection, outdoors on brightly painted wooden chairs and tables, was just divine.
Local rugby and finding community
Do you know what was even better? A local rugby game fired up right next door. Thanks to my husband’s obsession with all things rugby, we found ourselves cheering on the local boys as they gave it everything they had on what is probably one of the most picturesque fields I’ve ever seen. Palm trees, clear water and white sand on one side and a particularly impressive green mountainous jungle on the other.
We got chatting with some local supporters and watched the sun go down with new friends. Finding other warm bodies to connect with was easy here, even for someone like myself who, more often than not, feels anxious at the thought of talking to strangers. It’s just one of the reasons a Rarotonga holiday feels so genuinely welcoming for families. The thing is, nobody treated us like the strangers that we were.
Dogs, beaches and the quiet side of the island
The kids always seemed to find someone to play with too, taking the pressure off us. They particularly liked Timmy, one of the friendly locals at Aroa Beach. He followed us down from the White House Villa, a great family accommodation option on the ‘quiet’ side of the island. He lived next door in the White House Apartment and seemed to particularly enjoy Aroa Beach, making friends with everyone he met there.
I watched in amusement as he sat uncomfortably close to some girls who were obviously enjoying time in the islands away from the cold of Europe. They looked on in what appeared to be disgust and horror as he paused to scratch enthusiastically around his neck just seconds after he had made himself at home on the corner of their towel.
Timmy, of course, is a dog. And he definitely didn’t have fleas. I should know, I checked. Timmy was actually really clean and very well looked after, he would often come over for a ‘chat’ if he saw us out in the yard, or heading down the beach.
Why Rarotonga holidays feel different
Rarotonga turned out to be the perfect blend of modern niceties without the annoying chaos that often comes with it, which is exactly why a Rarotonga holiday suits families so well. Chickens roam freely, yet the cars and scooters that manoeuvre around them are modern. There is one main circular island road that moves at a slow and steady pace. Nobody drives over 50km per hour (even slower in ‘town’ areas), and as soon as you turn off the Circle Island Road, you are blessed with the lush greenness of the island’s interior.
There are no traffic lights, no building taller than the tallest coconut tree and resorts haven’t been allowed to privatise all of the beautiful beaches.
Do you know what’s even better? Cook Islanders are incredibly family-orientated and no one gave you ‘that look’ when you show up with two young kids in various stages of undress. Even when one of them decides that bathers are not required for swimming and they are going to swim at the local waterfall butt-naked.
The island I didn’t expect to love
I wasn’t expecting to like Rarotonga, let alone love it. Before we arrived, I had naively placed it in the same basket as other South Pacific Islands (cough, cough, Tahiti). The kind of island that your international flight lands in, but you then need to fork out an obscene amount of money to get to the outlying island that you saw in the travel brochures. The islands you had been dreaming about all year.
I had never been more wrong in my life.
Rarotonga is the international hub of the Cook Islands, 15 specks of land scattered over two million square kilometres in the Pacific Ocean. With a population of only 17,000 – 18,000 people, an exquisite aqua lagoon, and a mountainous jungle interior, there is no need to feel disappointed if you can’t make it to the outer islands.
Although the outer islands are incredibly fascinating, beautiful and absolutely worth the visit, you will not be wasting your hard-earned vacation time or dollars by spending a whole week or longer in Rarotonga.
Rarotonga is the island I now dream of – the kind of place that quietly resets your expectations of what an island holiday can really be.
This story first appeared in Escape Cook Islands Magazine.
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