Pacific Summer Series: Easter Island (Part 2)

Through January, I'm running a series of my previously published print articles about Pacific islands.  

Last post, I described my first day on Easter Island in 2005. Now the adventure continues...

Now we reach the jackpot: the moai quarry at Rano Raraku, a volcanic crater from whose sides the statues were cut by hand.

This is the sight of the day.

Rano Raraku’s steep slopes are peppered with gigantic stone figures, many buried up to their noses or heads beneath the soil.

There are also unfinished moai, partly carved but never freed entirely from the rock; and a curious early statue with a more realistic head and a kneeling posture, which looks a lot like a statue of Buddha.

Though they’re much younger, the statues remind me strongly of archaeological remains I've seen in Egypt.

There are hundreds of moai here, and hundreds more across the island, carved by hand without the aid of metal tools. Nothing is roped off, and we wander everywhere, astonished at the sheer quantity of abandoned work.

Standing in front of a selection of massive late-period moai, with their curiously distended heads, pointy noses and pouting lips, it's easy to see how theories of alien visitation began.

By now I’m feeling like one does about cathedrals in Europe or obelisks in Egypt: I've had enough for the day. It’s also seven hours since we've eaten. But at our final stop, Anakena Beach, the kiosks have run out of their skewers of barbecued chicken or fish.

It's a beautiful place, however. The one extensive beach on Rapa Nui is a deep swathe of sand bordered by a broad sweep of grass dotted with palms.

Above it are more moai on a sand-swept ahu, marking the spot where the legendary first king of Rapa Nui, Hotu Matua, arrived with his band of Polynesian emigrants.

The moai here had been well-preserved after being immersed in sand, so their faces and the decorative details on heir backs (thought to represent tattoos) stand out clearly.

There are more tours to take, but there’s more to Easter Island than moai. Hanga Roa is a surprisingly pleasant town, though it’s never going to win awards for sheer energy and excitement.

Instead, it’s a great place to chill out, with its quiet streets, slow-moving traffic and laidback restaurants with their outdoor terraces.

As we look out on the Pacific from an eatery near the fishing harbour, a Polynesian horseman comes riding by, shirt off, long hair flying, backpack slung over his shoulders. Then he’s followed by a compact 4WD, a striking contrast of old and new.

With many everyday items being imported from mainland Chile, most restaurants have a similar range of dishes. The standout ingredient is tuna, we realise, as it’s locally caught.

With this in mind, for our late lunch we share a large carpaccio of fresh raw tuna in lemon juice and oil, with a parmesan-like cheese and capers. Exquisito!

The empanada is also a popular local choice. Chilean fast food, it’s a pastry envelope filled with ingredients like beef, tuna, cheese or vegetables, then fried or baked, and served hot.

There are more mysteries to be discovered within Easter Island’s half-forgotten heritage, and more spectacular sights to see.

They include the beautiful freshwater lake in the volcanic crater of Rano Kau; the sacred cave and islands of the Birdman Cult; a wall of misplaced Peruvian-style stonework; the curious symbols of the Rongo-Rongo tablets; and the excellent Anthropological Museum that pieces it all together.

There’s even nightlife, though it’s mostly of the disco and pool table variety.

On our last day, I feel sad to be leaving. The locals are friendly, cars are left unlocked, and tourism’s employment opportunities have removed any need for crime.

In many ways, Easter Island epitomises the romantic view of the island hideaway, where you can shed your troubles and remove yourself from the outside world. On top of this is its intriguing Polynesian culture and its fascinating archaeological sites.

Will time and tourism change all that? It's another mystery to add to all the others.

Pacific Summer Series: Easter Island (Part 1)

Over the rest of January, I'll be running a series of my previously published print articles about Pacific islands.  

This article was first published in 2006, so some details may have changed, though the destination retains its allure. For first up is mysterious Easter Island...

"There are 3,500 people on this island, and 3,500 stories."

Mystery is the essence of Easter Island's attractions: for centuries, its hundreds of massive hand-carved statues (moai) have puzzled and fascinated visitors.

How did people living on such an isolated, food-poor location manage to create these great monuments, then transport them across the landscape to their final destinations?

And what exactly did the statues represent?

But for the moment, there’s a more pressing question right in front of our eyes, as we leave the humble terminal building at the Pacific island’s Mataveri Airport.

Namely, why does the bloke with our names on a board, waiting to transport us to our hotel, have an Aussie accent a mile wide?

It turns out that Bill Howe, the co-owner of the Taura’a Hotel, once worked in the film industry, and came to Easter Island for a job on Kevin Costner’s epic movie Rapa Nui.

He came, he saw, and he ended up marrying a local woman. Now he and Edith run the Taura’a, surfing the increasing tide of tourism washing up on their shores.

Bill may seem an improbable fixture on this remote Polynesian island run by Chile, but then everything seems improbable on Rapa Nui (its Polynesian name).

The triangular island, the product of ancient volcanic eruptions, is only twenty by ten kilometres at its extremes.

Around it stretches nothing but deep blue water, with the nearest inhabited island a whopping 2000 kilometres away. Mainland Chile itself is some 3700 km to the east. 

Just the fact that Polynesian migrants found this speck of land some 1500 years ago, sailing from the diverse archipelagos to the west, seems amazing. But once the new arrivals had adapted to the cooler climate of Rapa Nui, what they achieved is truly staggering.

For this limited population, with finite food sources and no metal tools, created hundreds of giant statues out of the volcanic rock and stood them on ceremonial platforms across the island.

And the moai are, of course, what visitors come to see.

Tantalised by decades-old theories of extraterrestrial intervention and UFOs, or by the more down-to-earth theories of researchers, tourists arrive with alternative theories whirling through their heads, and a burning curiosity.

There are plenty of ways to explore the archaeological sites. Various tours run daily, with full-day and half-day options, in small or large groups.

For a more flexible approach, 4WDs, motorbikes, bikes, taxis and even horses can be hired. Though the island is small, there’s a lot to see, so it’s best to break down the sightseeing over a few days.

We decide to go on one of Bill’s tours; he has a minibus that only takes half a dozen passengers, so we’re guaranteed not to be swamped. I asked him if there'll be any commentary on the tour, and he laughs.

"I give you loads of information," he says, and he’s right – he’s full of speculation, useful information and practical tips.

His personal theories on archaeological and cultural mysteries add colour to the tour; though he's upfront in telling you if his ideas are not shared by the experts. Like he says, there are 3,500 stories on the island, so a few more won’t hurt.

As we leave the island’s only town, Hanga Roa, my first impression is how un-Polynesian the landscape looks. There's little of the lush green vegetation you expect in the South Pacific.

Instead, we see rolling fields covered with short grass, occasional stands of eucalypts, and low stone walls. It could be farming country somewhere in Australia or even Europe, but for the distinctive grey volcanic stone which pokes up everywhere through the eroded soil.

Our first stop is Ahu Vaihu. This ahu (ceremonial platform) has eight toppled moai, lying flat on their faces.

Around the time that European navigators first visited the island, a civil war broke out between Rapa Nui’s tribes, partly prompted by the increasing environmental degradation of the island.

The result was the toppling of all the moai, presumably by raids on the villages they overlooked as ancestral guardians. Many have since been re-stood.

We also stop by a moai face down in the middle of a field, abandoned in the middle of its trip from the quarry to the coast. And the transport methods involved are still the greatest and most hotly-debated mystery.

There are several theories of how it was done; but the traditional belief was that the figures became infused with mana (magic) and walked to their ahu. It's quite a mental image.

Then we reach the jackpot...

[Next: The moai quarry, Anakena Beach, tuna carpaccio, and many more stone heads...]

Gastro-tourism: Make Mine a Large One

The India Times published a piece last week looking at the unexploited potential of gastro-tourism - food tourism to you and me - in the subcontinent.

Which made me think what a large part food and drink plays in my own travel. One doesn't like to sound greedy by admitting that one has an overt interest in gourmet treats overseas.

But I must admit there's been more than a few foodie highlights in my travels. Off the top of my head:

1. Sipping incredibly potent grappa, an Italian alcoholic drink created from the skins of grapes left over after winemaking. It wasn't the grappa per se, but the fact we were drinking it in San Gimignano, a beautiful hilltop town in Tuscany.

Narrelle and I had wandered away from the tourist haunts, admiring the medieval towers and picture-perfect green countryside below the city walls, when we'd stumbled across a little place that had grappa on the menu.

Wandering around the narrow quiet streets afterward,admiring the architecture while unexpectedly intoxicated from a single glass each, was loads of fun.

2. Drinking żubrówka vodka where the żubry hang out. In the far east of Poland, along the border with Belarus, sits the little village of Białowieża. Once the home of the Russian Tsar's hunting lodge, it's now the gateway to the UNESCO-listed reserve nearby, in which you'll find the only wild herd of European bison.

A bison in Polish is żubr, plural żubry, and they gave their name to the famous żubrówka vodka, which contains a blade of bison grass favoured by the animals. Drinking this in the area associated with it, after eating a traditional dish containing egg, bacon, game meat and mushrooms served up in a frying pan, gave it an extra savour.

3. Sitting at an outdoor table at a restaurant on Easter Island on a Sunday, eating a tuna carpaccio containing fresh raw deep sea tuna. It's about the only dish you can eat fresh on the island, as most other foodstuffs are shipped in from Chile. But again, it was the surroundings that added the extra flavour.

As it was most people's day off on Rapa Nui, there was a soccer game going on in the park opposite, motorbikes zipping around, and young guys galloping their horses up and down the street. And just over to the right, there was one of the island's famous enigmatic statues, perched on a plinth above the fishing port.

In the end, it's not just about eating and drinking, is it? It's about being more deeply embedded in the culture, by enjoying the food and drink the locals do; and maybe understanding their culture a little better beceause of it.