Rapa Nui (aka Easter Island, aka Island of the big heads – pronounced biig heeds)

Arriving in the dark of night to a fine wet drizzle and no place to stay we began to wonder where we’d come to. A tiny airport that allowed you to walk straight out from the tarmac of the airfield and on into the country with no sign of passport or security checks and a single baggage carousel whirling round with the luggage of the one flight that day. Having a hazy list of local “residentials” I’d hurriedly scribbled down from the thorntree posts on the lonely planet website, I approached the kiosk of the only one I recognised only to be told it was full. Not to worry the helpful guy passed me over to the friendly faces in the next kiosk along and within minutes a deal was struck and we found ourselves in a taxi for the 5minute drive to our home for the next week.

Cabanas Vaianny turned out to be a house with several cottages in a walled garden filled with fruit trees and exotic flowers. Each cottage had its own ensuite and plenty of space for storage, plus a veranda where you could sit out and chill. We were told to come to the main house each day for breakfast or at any other time if we needed help or advice with anything. The house was located just 2 minutes walk from the “main” road of Hanga Roa with shops and restaurants and 10minutes walk to the “main” harbour. “Main” is given in apostrophes as on an island with just 180 km2 surface and a total inhabitants of less than 4000 people nothing is that big, the tarmac roads only arrived 15 years ago and the harbour takes in a few small fishing boats and not much bigger.

Day 1 on Easter island saw us waking at a leisurely hour, enjoying the fresh fruit at breakfast and making sandwiches with the other food provided for lunch then ambling off for our first explore of the island. The weather was overcast and blowy but still warm, warm enough in fact for me to be happy in shorts and a vest top despite the high winds which should have been somewhat of a warning as to just how strong the sun was. We trecked on up the coastline out of the town viewing our first Moai (stone heads) very excitedly, named collectively as Ahu Tahai, Kote Riku, the northernmost of these three ahu is unique in having eyes made of coral and obsidian that were added at a later date during the restoration of the altar in the 1970s. Most of the altars that are seen standing around the island have been restored back to that position at some point during the twentieth century, as tribal wars that took place centuries earlier, coupled with the introduction of Christianity to the island led to many of the heads being toppled and their topknots dislodged and/or destroyed. This same period also saw much of the deforestation take place which led from what was once reportedly a tropical paradise to the barren island that remains today. That said, Easter Island is a place of true unspoilt beauty, you can walks for miles and not see another soul and the sea surrounding the island is a beautiful clear crystal blue.

Our walk the first day took us up half of the coast north of town, adopted by the local dogs who seem to take great fun in joining whoever seems to be walking ahead at the time as their new owners. We returned at night windswept and a little pink from our travels and we asked the owners of the house if it was possible to book us on a guided tour of the island for the next day.

Day 2 dawned greyer than day1 and we were met with the disappointing news that the tour was already fully subscribed for the day so we’d have to wait another day for it (the tour we’d chosen only took 5 people out as a maximum, as we didn’t want to feel we would be herded around in a large group and this gave us more options for adapting the route to suit the group). Disappointed, but glad we still had it booked for the next day we decided to explore the town, visit the markets and the craft gallery. The local gallery had stall upon stall of miniature Moai sculpted from volcanic stone, wood and harder stones such as the local obsidian, as well as the shell, feather and bead jewellery, sarongs and t-shirts. None of the pieces seemed particularly cheap though, one noticeably fine wooden head retailing at US$60! The local fruit market appeared a much better option, with similar pieces being on offer at a much discounted price. After the markets we were keen to set off out of civilisation again and headed south out of town in search of Ana Kai Tangata, a cave with pictographies (cave paintings), before long the heavens opened and we were slipping and sliding our way through red mud down to another harbour with still no sign of the elusive cave. Like drowned rats we returned home and discovered it was still early, so with the rain over, a bite to eat inside us and a fresh set of clothes we set off again in search of the cave, this time wisely looking at the map.

Getting to the cave you approach from a clifftop above and scramble down some steps well hewn out of the rock. With the storm only just abated the power of the waves crashing into the mouth of the cave was immense, the water still a deep grey blue bursting into a bright white spray as it hit the rocks on its way into shore. The cave paintings were only just discernible as much of the ceiling has come down. Traditionally the roof would naturally come down in the form of slates which they would use to roof their homes, then the local artists would paint new pictures using local minerals and dyes to create the colours of the paints. Unfortunately noone now remains with the knowledge and skill to paint these pictures so before long they will cease to exist altogether.

Happy with our cave find we bumped into some others from our boarding house at a café on the way back home and arranged to go and see a local dance show that night. The restaurant where the dancers were on had a wide choice of the local fish available so we each chose a different dish/fish and weren’t disappointed. I popped to the loo before the performance was due to start as you had to cross the stage to access them and found all the performers changing for the show. With the girls dressed in feather skirts and bikinis and the guys in grass warrier outfits it looked set to be a good show and Andy and Rob’s faces when the girls got up on stage confirmed that. Boy can they move their bums! Its like they were controlled by the drum beats, the lads were mesmerised. I was just trying to work out how they did it. Fantastic, even funnier when Jenna and Andy got dragged on stage to join in.

Day 3 was set to be the day of the tour and the day dawned clear and blue. We were met by our guide after breakfast and shown to the VW camper that was to be our tour bus for the day. The morning saw us heading up Rano Kau volcano, with the most incredible lagoon in the top and views out to sea and across the island. The sea today was a bright cobalt blue, even viewed from up high you could see clearly through to the coral reefs below, simply stunning. We went on round to Rapa Nui national park, from where you can access Orongo, a collection of stone huts where the traditional birdman competition was held. The competition saw men climbing down the cliff face, swimming out to an island in search of a particular type of bird egg, the first to return with such an egg then became leader of the tribe. The competition could last for many days and even weeks so huts were constructed for the men to live in while they watched for the birds to arrive on the island and the seas to be suitable to cross.

We went on from there via ahu akivi (unique in being the only moia to look out to sea) to the te pahu caves, a series of caves that ran 2km from inland to shore where the local tribes could take shelter and barricade themselves in at times of war. On one of the days later in the week Rob and I returned by travelling up the coast and traced many of the caves inland. The one at the coast was called the cave of two windows (dos ventanas caves ana kakenga) as you could walk through it and out into the cliff face.

From the caves we backtracked around up the east coast past more and more Moia until we reached Rano Raraku Quarry. This must be the most spectacular sight on the island. The quarry, actually a volcano, was the site of construction of many of the moai on the island. Today over 300 moai still exist in the area, some fully complete moia stand upright on the side of the volcano (both inside and out), many buried up to their necks in silt over the centuries giving an impression of almost a showroom for the moia to prospective customers. Many others can be seen partially carved out of the rock face in various stages of construction. We climbed to the top of the volcano from where you get a terrific view right across the island and down at the closest shore to Ahu Tongariki the site of a long line of Moia reconstructed by the Japanese and apparently a particularly stunning sight at sunrise as the sun rises over the sea behind them.

A final trip round the top of the island saw us taking in Te Pito te Henua, a big perfectly round stone referred to by locals as the “centre of the earth,” or “uterus of the planet” it is thought to hold special powers that are transferred to the individual when lightly stroked. The stone did leave your hands with a strange tingling sensation and it was discovered in recent years to hold a massive magnetic charge so that could provide an explanation although it would be nice to think I’d just got some magical powers instead! From there we stopped at Anakena, one of only two proper beaches on the island and at the time we arrived rather surreally being used to film an advert for the latest Peugeot 307. A nice looking car although no doubt someone would be in trouble as they had already dented the estate version and with ferries only coming that direction once a month it was unlikely a replacement would be sent across.

The following days around Easter island were spent chilling, enjoying the now gloriously radiant weather, taking in turns to get sunburnt, hiking up the coastline and chilling some more. The night before we were due to leave, having enjoyed some quite superb empanada (a bit like a Cornish pasty) Rob came down with severe vomiting, within 2 hrs he’d emptied his system and I started with D&V. We felt absolutely retched, relieved only that we weren’t travelling that night. Whether it was the empanada, or a local bug (we found out that 3 others in the same boarding house were also ill that week) we don’t know, but the last day eating nothing and lying in the heat left us exhausted for the onward flight to Tahiti.

Competition Over

The last week or so has flown by without me realising eg. I was totting up how many nights we'd stayed at the hotel in Boituva and I thought it was 9 but it was in fact 16, I'm struggling knowing what month it is let alone the date or the day of the week. So we're now back in Sao Paulo for a couple of days, catching up with admin and getting the essentials in while we're still in civilisation (I'm thinking that an island of 2800 total population won't have many shopping malls...?)

The world parachuting championships in Boituva is now complete, there were 17 teams in just the class Rob was competitng in so a really good turn out especially given the last minute change of venue. After much to-ing and fro-ing between the DZs the competition finally ran from the new DZ, Jame's place, so new in fact that much of it was still a building site. The poor guys working out by the swoop pond laying fresh turf, only to have it ploughed up by the guys washing the speed off their downwind landings.

As it is apt to do around any skydiving activity, the weather took a turn for the worst the weekend before the comp. with high winds followed by some poor visibility at altitude (not so much cloud as smog). Still the competition managed to proceed with only a couple more hiccups. With just three lifts (plane fulls of jumpers) to go to complete round 5 the owner of the planes grounded them until he received payment for the competition. After much debate, fuelled not least by the Bank of the organisers in Brasilia being on strike the planes were finally released and airborne again. After that one of the french teams appealed against the way round 2 had been scored. The jury agreed to a rejudge and the new scores resulted in 1st, 2nd and 3rd places for the french teams in freefly. This was much to the anger of the USA, Oz and Brazilian teams who then appealed to have the decision reversed, to no avail and hence all wore red noses to the final award ceremony.

The rejudge had little effect on our guys placement in the competition with them unfortunately coming in last by just 0.1 points, a bitter pill to swallow, especially after two busts in round 2 saw them dropping 4 points which would have seen them another 4 places up the board. The guys all made me proud though, rising above the great disappointment they must have been feeling and congratulating the other teams in the competition, showing greater sportsmanship therefore maybe than many of the teams at the top.

Following the comp. , (the weather again brilliantly bright and sunny,) alot of the guys, Dan, Jim and Bec included, headed off to Rio to experience some of the beaches and nightlife for which Brazil is famed. Unfortunately with just these two days until we fly onward we didn't feel we had the time, so made the tough decision to relax in Sao Paulo for a couple of days instead.

So lasting memories of Brazil... bizarre ones - crisps that are bright yellow but when they touch saliva turn bright blue (how many e numbers?), soft squidgy toilet seats, a full range of pastries, bread and potato pears that all contain either cheese, chicken and cheese or mince and cheddar cheese that is liquid even at room temperature, yak. A killer drink cachaca (fire water) drunk neat or as a caipirinha with crushedice, lime and sugar. Incredibly cheap buffets of food where you pile stuff on our plate then get it weighed, at the DZ that usually cost R$5 for a full plate, thats £1 to you or me! If you're in the city go for a traditional BBQ meal, help yourself salad bar like I've never seen and then waiters constantly coming round with skewers full of the most tender tasty meat that they will carve right in front of you. Oh and of course, most of all, the people, friendly and helpful like I've never met anywhere before.

Boituva

Boituva is a small town about an hour and a half inland of Sao Paulo and home of Brazil’s National Dropzone, its also now home of Boituva Skydive, a privately run venture owned by James, a bright cheery guy most noticeable because of his bright ginger afro, and almost permanent smile. Boituva skydive was the home of the boogie, its opening boogie, this weekend but as it shares its planes and is separated by a just a walk across the landing area from the National centre we’ve got used to ambling back and forth between the two (ambling seems to be the required method of movement in Brazil, as the temperatures and general pace of life both lend themselves to a more relaxed outlook and attitude). The new centre is still mid construction but already the hotel is nearly completed, as is the bar, hangar and swoop pond so it all looks really promising for the future. The national centre is well established with several shops and schools operating from there, including fly factory with Fabio, Marcus, Flavio and Carlotta, plus the crash test dummies with Mico and his girlfriend Paulo making us feel particularly welcome. In fact, point to note here, Brazil is one of the most friendly welcoming places I’ve ever been to, everyone here seems happy to bend over backwards to help you, for example in nearly a week here we’ve not had to get a taxi back to the hotel once with someone offering a lift every night, very often someone who we’d not even met until a few moments earlier.

With Dan arriving, then Becs and Jim, at least Space were all successfully out in Brazil, big relief and with the arrival of Debs, Jim, Gary and Rob we’ve got a full British contingent, something not far short of a miracle after all the running around last week.

Jumping, or rather landing, in Boituva is fast, 2000ft altitude, the heat of the day and an uneven landing ground make for some interesting landings. A huge windsock is somewhat misleading too, with a slight flicker on the sock indicating a definite breeze on the ground as I discovered following the “first man down” rule effectively going downwind and whistling across the landing area at a terrific rate. The wind (what little there is of it) changes direction all the time too so checking wind direction before take off is next to useless, making me ever thankful for the huge windsock today as I landed a substantial distance away from the DZ on a hillside, amidst cows and termite mounds. From 1000ft I could still make out the windsock and so the best landing direction and so managed a safe (if not altogether dainty) landing on my feet (hopping ditches and termite mounds in the process, but this really was the best “out” in the area). Next followed a trek on foot, almost as interesting as I attempted to negotiate some rather defensive cows, a farmyard with yapping dogs and a very friendly lady who insisted on explaining to me how to get back to the road in a long stream of portugese. When she stopped for breath and I managed to get across that I was English and didn’t understand she repeated the process so this time I nodded, smiled and thanked her then battled my way across the scrub in what I hoped was the direction she had indicated. I was sweltering and wishing I a. at least spoke a handful of portugese, b. had some money on me to get back to the DZ once I reached the road and c. had some water. Boy was I relieved as I got to the road just as the DZ ambulance arrived in search of me, I owe Jonas the driver a beer!

Temperatures are on the up each day, reminding everyone that the Brazilian winter is most definitely over and spring is well under way (for temperatures, think Seville in summer… hot and getting hotter). Clear blue skies and shorts, even in the evening (the shorts that is, not the blue skies, although you do get the most amazing sunsets), nice. Teams from elsewhere have started to arrive, already we have some of the Swiss and U.S. plus others not yet identified. Oh and French. The French arrived in force yesterday, all 20 of them, fully paid up by the French authorities with flights, transport and, most essentially, training all covered. We’ve tried to say hello but have yet to gain eye contact with them maybe the week will see that change, you never know. Should be a good week ahead.

Where are we again?

After a nice lie-in we get picked up by Max drop our gear off at his friend Fabio’s and cross part of the residencial area of Sao Paulo on foot to grab a massage in a Japanese oasis of calm not obvious from out on the street. More relaxed than I could have imagined by now we’re happy to while away some time meeting up with Fabio’s dad in the business district and walking round the designer shopping area before heading back to Fabio’s pad. Fabio has made arrangements for us all to get a lift down to the local DZ in Boituva but says as there is currently a 100km traffic jam leaving Sao Paulo we’re probably best leaving for Boituva after 10pm.

Its probably a good time for me to mention that just a few days ago, Monday in fact, we’d heard an ugly rumour that the World Parachuting Championships in Brasilia, our main reason for visiting Brazil, had been cancelled. After several frantic phonecalls we couldn’t confirm anything but a further 24hrs later, just the day before we were due to fly, it was confirmed, the competition in Brasilia had been cancelled but they were trying to find an alternative venue. So here it was, that three days later, the day we were due to head to Boituva for a boogie anyway, that we found out the competition had moved to Boituva itself. Great news, not only was the comp still on but we were also already headed right there, so no extra hassle or travel arrangements to make. The bad news at this moment was that Boituva had a rodeo in town for the weekend so there wasn’t a room available at any of the hotels in the town. Several calls later and Carlotta, a friend of Fabio’s, had “arranged” some accommodation for us (leaving us happy and a few rodeo goers a bit annoyed no doubt).

Sao Paulo, Brazil

Arriving in Sao Paulo at 6am after an 11hr overnight flight direct from London, we tumble straight into a taxi and in the usual English manner attempt to explain to the portugese speaking driver the address of the hotel we’ve made a reservation at in the city, after a few frustrating attempts we resort to thrusting a piece of paper with the address in his hand and sure enough he understands immediately “Ah, Rua Jesuino Arrunda.” he repeats and nods his head. We’re sure it sound just the same as we’d been trying to say but it becomes quite apparent that in Brazil the level of English isn’t the same as we’ve come to ignorantly rely on in Europe.

An hour and a half later, after some of the craziest driving we’ve ever encountered (causing us to swear we’ll never hire a car to drive in the city) we arrive at the hotel. Modern, clean and stylish even by our home standards we get the first inkling that maybe this city isn’t the backwater dangerous place we’ve been lead to believe with horror stories back home.

A few hours later, refreshed with a few hours sleep and a good shower we hit the streets with Max, Rob’s coach, American but a virtual veteran of Brazil after several other visits. He show us the pleasures of the local fruit juice and coffee houses and we idle a while just viewing the local area before he leaves us to enjoy the evening. We grab a couple of beers before trying out a local sushi house and are served some of the best sushi at least I’ve ever eaten. We have time to reflect on the last 24hrs and try to absorb where we now are. The local neighbourhood is relaxed and friendly with no feeling of threat as you walk around, a far cry from what I’d imagined and its difficult to even grasp that we’re a quarter of the way round the world in the middle of South America and not just in a city in Portugal or Spain.