May 5th 2015
I wake up with my body aching from a lot of walking and rock climbing done the day before to get to the incredible Rano Kau and Orongo which means one thing: It’s the perfect day for a beach day.
Easter Island sometimes catches some criticisms among Polynesian islands because it only really has one big beach and only one more small one. Anakena is the main one and is my destination for the day, at this point I don’t even know that the smaller and much more isolated and tranquil Oveha even exists. The criticisms though for me are utterly unwarranted, as the beaches it does have are spectacular and surprisingly not all that crowded.
My day starts back at Tipanie campsite waking up just after nine and relaxing for a short while before heading into town for an early morning snorkel and a brunch of empanadas. I see one more turtle though sadly it’s not while I’m in the water but instead on my way to the empanada stand for sustenance. Of course the bright side of this is it means you get a picture, even if it’s not a great one.
After more delicious empanadas I head back to the main street and walk towards the airport in search of the LAN office located on the corner of Atanu Takena and Pont. I’ve decided to try everything to change my flight, as 7 days doesn’t feel like enough for this wondering island. Sadly, after waiting a while in line the employee checks my flight and tells me it is in no way possible to change it, so looks like I’ll have to make do with 7 days. Still if you’re heading to easter island and can afford the time I definitely recommend at least 7 days and I think I could have entertained myself thoroughly through two weeks.
That hope abandoned and noon now in the rearview I walk over to the road/highway which runs alongside the airport and start waking to the main goal of the day, the Anakena beach I’ve heard so much about. It’s some 18 km from town, but I’ve got a plan.
I walk the maybe 20 minutes to where the road splits in two sticking to the path straight ahead which cuts through the centre of the island. Once I’m past that point the thumb goes out. Maybe 5 vehicles clearly rented by tourists pass me without stoping, the last followed closely by a taxi so I withdraw my thumb. The taxi though stops anyway and I’m invited into the front seat by the incredibly friendly local driver and his fare payers, a friendly Argentinean couple on their way back from Tahiti with just a brief layover to explore the marvels of this easternmost Polynesian island.
We chat and I get myself in a bit of trouble gushing about Rano Kau and Orongo as the driver apparently didn’t feel like including it on his three hour tour. Still the mood stays jovial and I’m dropped off with them at Anakena beach, a place of unspeakable beauty.
I walk through an ample glade of massive palm trees towards sparkling white sand and a bright blue ocean ahead.
It’s basically what most people think of when the phrase tropical paradise comes up, only at this beach there’s one added touch. A wide Ahu near the back end of the beach holds seven imposing Moai looking in on the palms and adding a certain je ne sais quoi to this surreal scene.
I take a few photos for the Argentinean couple and get one or two in return before we say our goodbyes. They’ve got ten minutes here, I intend to spend a whole lot longer.
I find another more worn ahu closer to the ocean behind the five which make it impossible to forget where you are. small dunes lead down from the palms and the moai’s to the pacific ocean, small waves rolling in though they break as if they were bigger. the sand is brilliant white, the sky is brilliant blue, and the reflections of it’s light make the ocean seem like a million gemstones smashed together.
I scramble down the tiny dunes lightly peppered with emerging green grass and onto the beach proper. For a place so beautiful, in a place so frequently touristed, the beach is surprisingly uncrowded, especially since it’s the peak beach time around 1:30 Pm.
As I walk cross the beach to a few lonely palms I marvel at a local man climbing up the smooth tree trunk with ease to fetch coconuts which he seems to both sell and drink.
I snap a few last pictures of this before tossing my bag down under the last palm left and quickly pull a towel change before rushing into the water snorkel in hand. It’s pleasantly cool without being bone chilling and I send at least 45 minutes swimming around, trying to snorkel, though the water here is sandy and marine life is negligible. Still the sun shining down on me, and the beach to look at from the water, it’s about as tranquil as tranquil can be.
I climb back out onto the beach and grab my camera before wading back in and snapping a few pictures from the water, to help recall the view that’s emblazoned across my mind from while I was swimming.
That done I walk to the edge of the beach and climb up onto the rocky outcroppings in bare feet. One downside of volcanic islands, the rock is anything but smooth. I manage to tip toe across the rocks out to a point where a diving truck is parked. They say you can see some stuff around the point but it’s already close to 4:30 and I’m hitchhiking back so I don’t want to push my luck too much.
After walking out to the rocky coast line for a few minutes I head back to the beach and return to my bag only to find a person has set up almost right beside it. Mildly annoyed I pack up and move over to the base of one of the dunes, taking a seat in the sand and reading a few chapters of the excellent if brutal Joe Abercrombie.
All that blood on my mind I pack up my kindle nook, careful of the sand, and, skin pleasantly toasted by the sun, head back into the ocean for one last dip.
Just after 5 o’clock I return to the beach pack up and take a slow stroll out towards the winding well paved road. I head first back towards the incredible Moai and snap a few photos before noticing some people wearing a traditional Polynesian skirt and bikini top, their skin painted in the style of easter island women. At first I think some ceremony is about to start, before I figure out its something a tourist pays to have done for a photo shoot. I’m honestly tempted to go over and ask for the female costume for myself, thinking of the photos it would make, but time isn’t on my side so I grab a few final panoramic shots before joining up with the road and sticking my thumb out.
It doesn’t take long, the first car to pass me, a beaten up old truck stops just ahead and I hurry to catch up. The smiling local man opens the door and I see a big knife below my seat but shrug it off and climb in. He’s on his way to pick up his daughter from school and is running late, so he drives dangerously quickly as he chats with me. I’m yet again amazed by the friendly open nature of the Rapa Nui people and when he lets me off beside the local catholic church I’m quite sad to say goodbye.
I head down towards the coast again, stopping at the post office on Simon Paoa street to stamp my passport with the free stamp, a cool little service to have in my opinion. I also see a very modern cowboy.
I reach the coast with the sun just beginning to set and am amazed to see some of the biggest waves yet, with a crowd of surfers out on the glimmering blue ocean. Some of them actually prove themselves to be pretty damn good. Surfings one of those things I’ve always wished I could do, but for some reason I’m just not willing to put the time required to be good into it. Oh well, At least I can take pictures of the people who do it. Sorry for the amount of photos.
ød¡z«4G)@+9Ôöý°Ëuìn²qHEò;0ld®çƬ6æ $íMÍW个ÙÎüª8 JÔûÖ¸RJP¾ú¢Çs¨NaEèìÌB§ J×@ ,êÇgüÚòŵñ··õ^s¢mÓfjÅüÌmÊySÿÑùWÊþ±oLSZ,Fx7ù¼ÍÝ. óä¾O$iXgyYb-Pê*j* rCRêè*OzO¦Yi¾8oÒKQ¨’ #¶Õ?füjiÚ éF’1©Ê8ùµ[`J¯ëÊÎVÁâÂÖÞîÎËGõm¦^hÝ=ý²m k©éðkPèípHÏMCqÄu©éÛ dÌCkdVÚDÓOA^E¦VrS1Ð×_uÆmãlK¯Ã×ærq˳ bBIå$AÒã|ÌÀàR.ð^JRvKÅG¤|§9 ±øWªô_>8G²è/Á**@Õå"éÉ_A·ÙÇÈePèGïdHÖ¬Z§o2>!è9¯·MpÜ
z¨gèÃ!.äFp;Z£YÇ"·Ô}¶;|ü2;lö<ÜKnåDØËq¶8ÇnE¦£ró»0ÍmÀ)²®FX+a¨$ѤÂO2¬|ÑEl&ûÕö®ý|r³§7vßùGnO9ó|©yxÂk9fÎüDÐoPs/g¹uùuæy.³åùq¦¡Cö¨#ùÐÿ¯ãG¤aõ"X}vÕµC,¨PP'±÷8Ó Ü²ÖùXÉõ¦RTrM:°pqÎ"ùnúÌ1<åXWá$|kSþJÇ~ØHL9hu~1ýdvV5+ßµ°×ºÁc*Wæ"¬iÏ5éÜÀï*»[OÌõïB«q-JQ§yËÍw¾¤ÂY¶°-ãøÄ@t);òüG5Yr'ióc²PQZ~|±ÿÒëÇQ³xÿ{½¨Z¿LÙe×ñ7y$ó]Ów$ÑWzætÂ$¢N¸NªÎ¬[â-O³× r³!ÒÛYôé%"{Smq',w§^¹dñÈØjǸá,ÛTÑQR9ÍÊ¥¹°§s²Å7,e®dÒÖ²4l¤VzW&Rséר"§cïúúá0@JÝNÈ[iÒ~híïÝVu ":ðùCþ*NíO_ó4^õî={Ûff T[Æx;SzdÂô}%is,¨M«áã¥%Fâ¦q âSZWoÉÆUÑ
¡./ÌåÁåÍæ+%+ÿ8òþåÌtê¢9,z#Õ¯.¸tA'îD©#héFßõ2Ó¢M´ ßEi5a|®«7 ImF§lÃÁÑ´çã%¦¨5ÀIâõ5ä>ßà2C¿ùJAÉ0À7S]ÔÖBëu:j Í!þ9]Í$ÿS+Ï<ë÷Ù;§ Ñ=(ëÈ^@ ò©âlåC[(;¼¦QèÜý^â3¤Í¹ã¢¯/Ù_iH4ô±É½FîI4èR(mÞFu©*HMM´ë¦ÿÓ3-ÄjDjƵ¥7ûèÿ+Â^|jË´VXrÄVêµê£´v)ÃcqºjÖ7×lÏ¢Zôß(|ÛÌ%/%OÐÖVÊîÍÏ¡søÓ)$aR6Vêñû¸5Û^
{°QÛ÷b¿íûäÄ-ø"²úñ j{mÙDNév©qþ+@å8rn´?ôùmhî×3cgX-üzÊj·¶F;JY`¸ VâªüI=¹Teq»<<à {½®ÖöqÛ ´h±jüE*iµrã¦Ýu( 5Y¢nÔcº¶ùÜIj;-3Ãö·(éÅ5ÏXl"PXÖ`hÉ<àíLÄA¦ã}ÉkÀ×ò©ãZü ÏlÈgÃÈS´´9U¹Ý}°ÎvâÂbh§1ÛÄðndñÙJÝÕ%´G* :wÊ2K«Î=÷^úà)§%ßr|iÀÇ|Ĺ¡,uIÖ2¨Ç64¦Y9@4ãÏEkë.R
¶b~+SRpcÛ³É ö@jMÔj¦SÏôibÍÉ£.u@IcðÔuxqlÇ<Ïåæ½: O%E:ûeШÀNãyäÖå]6;wrR${BO%ÜuÊN6ñR8&CÈ@Ü$"CL`°¾îùCjäè»#(ÚÛK1~Õ*¿HñÉÖ&AÝ@éרOPþr³Ñ+ä°Àý)C8«eg&<ÛÖæÖ²Å*0I(ËÄH<aðæ·§ÛvVWìóybH¨QöìÖÕ*~×GÅå̹DsØÈë(w *§èÄj#t-ªÈF³Á°5_,F#pV]¨;®BM±"U ¹Y;S`«L̶è¡äiÓß1øIrÌTúÜÆU>ÝtöÈð ¤ñ´UÕôÍɺ°l1lJmIñ%ù¨N],M1Ëi7éÈz>>AÆKp K«Z2ºSp©Ê
Á#³TõeC]½·®+ãNHu?̺7q}b:¸_ë0ÉN»Q¦9± ty&¸;»-ÙÁ8¤ú>í$øB6
tÒ£+ûÈÀ’öÔï_¦6&·A,Í!·¾5-,|Ô«ÔSÓ+ñ¡Þ.NüÌÚ4£ÖÕTôûKÉ~þ9QÕ㺷&:µ|?ïW w@c=Ê0h÷øªM>ðþfëùÖñMRÑ#I¤Ya ²?^’c³mOò²Y*B0BPk¶:m¿’´,ëjÁ]DjR±²Ñ¤^-×®só^ÃÿÕ¢°(Evê)S°ZMó¬bòÑÛÏVÖmD³2TOr>’#ÄU+Ûy²ÊcÉÜPô& þ93ta÷Í3ÿiÉi,É*Éè«1E4v èrs Ëb[kpöO«K=ÙQ_wÝT¿aø¦Ü£rfÞBóÍÏtkoNîÔ’ªÕ5@+]Æã¦g`Ì$7p3b1;2}[Í6^_µ[P¼Hæ Z»à¸2Î!(È°Îð³É,7+Z¯/;Ò¥B¹s9>Kuϲ~¡?f´§í.#RBËN6þ{×亹̤ÝìÊÈ¥Sþ1V¼6Û#ù÷¯åà:rFEç½n8}1ËnæÈU¿|Fy{§ÃM’óÆ»r8Ø*Ø,g©ÀÄx3KSÃG¥|(ÿ[ÞÍ|µù³fuÚ]R&)oIñΨ4§BÙ|5 ù´KNIÛk¤þkyVöÞéÚÂäÑ^)QA&:%GãÃSÍ®zb9’ºw¼½¨]=ôSÌ¢¼XP9ÿ±Ë#2äZå GLÚò97M©ß,0&ù!¢×àby8458LÌvâ>4ß
»?d1H/ñ1± ;Æ?l+=Íi SX´±?6|©)hÍï§Á¸R7 Nýè|3Å{áι5ü»«N¶ÖZ/räúq*XÊHd3DímY1HoM®pe%êõ’°`SR2þ’Õ`µË}X¬Å~Ú¡åO»0SáÒ]æÍ6å¼»xÖêÑH©Põ /#Óíg>E»OÆ,ÓÕ¹Ù¯ü.GÍ äŬ;-Ù¯´T"GIR¦
`[£À oÿ3lõ½7ôuiÍ^rÉ’£Bªq`*_!<¶)²À6ó©E*bÉ"ôãbw?Ó!a<(;V¾Ó.æÔ4©¥±
Ba!kWêù²BUÉ®ºóMåî´nµ6R¡FIIAn empanada, a special treat, and a walk back to the campsite later I’m ready to stare up at the stars for half an hour before retiring to my tent for some sleep.
