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0330 calls are included within inclusive minutes package on mobiles, otherwise standard rates apply.
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20 May 2025
Cook Islands
We offer a wide choice of cheap flights to the Cook Islands together with Cook Islands hotels, tours and self-drive itineraries.
Other New Zealand & South Pacific Reviews
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- 6 of the best - New Zealand
- Stein on wine, Kiwi style - New Zealand
- Singing the Praises - New Zealand
- No frills? Not us! No expense spared - New Zealand
- Geyserland! - Rotorua
- A perfect 10 for Polynesia - Tahiti
- Captivated by a Kiwi odyssey - New Zealand
- Floating in my own South Sea bubble - Cook Islands
Floating in my own South Sea bubble
With a scarlet hibiscus behind her ear and a guide who looked like Tarzan, Esther Rantzen was in her element in the Cook Islands
1 Frolic in the clear blue sea 2 Floating off a pristine beach 3 Meet the friendly locals
DURING SCHOOL HISTORY lessons, I know I drifted. One on the South Sea Bubble, which I vaguely remember being a speculative scandal in the 18th century,was one of those moments. But the phrase has a new meaning for me now I’ve been to the Cook Islands.
Because for one glorious week, I lived inside a South Sea bubble that was iridescent and sunshine-filled. I was surrounded by the shining waters of a lagoon, gardenia perfumed the air, and I spent most of my time there with a scarlet hibiscus bloom perched behind my ear.
It was winter in Britain, but 12,000 miles away, on a dot in the middle of the Pacific, I feasted on fresh mahi mahi fish and mango, and everywhere I went I was greeted with smiles and kisses. Touch down at Rarotonga, the capital of the Cooks and the only island destination with a regular air service, and you know you’ve left Heathrow far, far away. The reasons for this immediate sense of well-being?
Partly the cheerful man in Arrivals serenading me with his ukelele, partly my guide Papatua waiting to lassoo me with an ei, a garland of gardenia and allamanda. Partly the smiles, the warm air, the coconut palms.
The smiles, the warm air, the coconut palms
Partly it was my hotel, The Little Polynesian. As I walked in I saw a huge arrangement of cerise ginger flowers and an azure infinity pool. Beyond was an aquamarinelagoon, rippling out to the white froth of the reef and the deep blue of the bottomless Pacific. ‘I thought,’ I later told Dorice Reid, the hotel owner, ‘that I’d died and gone to heaven.’
She, for her part, gave me a cup of locallygrown coffee, smiled, and kissed me on both cheeks. The Little Polynesian has ten luxuriously-appointed bungalows, each with a veranda looking out across pearl-white sands, littered with black volcanic boulders.
And I soon discovered the hotel chef had a light, delicious touch with local produce.
The staff are the nicest of people
Every meal was delectable, and no matter how strict you normally are with yourself, do not miss the citrus tart served with vanilla ice cream and mango, a seductive mixture of sweet and sharp. Dorice is not only the owner of the hotel, she is also the elected chief of her clan, the Te Tika tribe.
Though Cook Islanders are fervent Christians, and 19th century missionaries did their usual best to destroy the Maori customs, the current generation are doing their best to restore them. Dorice took me to the marae (the sacred ground) where her investiture took place 20 years ago.
Indeed, one excellent change the missionaries did bring with them was the concept women could take on a chief’s job. Queen Victoria was a particularly impressive female role model, after all. Before we could step inside the marae, I had to wear a necklace of rauti, special leaves stripped and twisted together, for spiritual protection.
She then showed me the altar where a pig was ceremonially sacrificed. At her own investiture, Dorice had to bite the pig’s right ear, symbolising the fact she would always listen to the cries of her clan.
To inhibited Europeans, the traditional dancing looks a little risque. The island girls wear wreaths around their hips, and twitch and rock them, while they smile and lift their hands gracefully.
As the drums beat vigorously, the men stamp and knock their knees together, displaying yards of muscular thigh.
From Rarotonga, a plane takes you to the most popular of the other islands, Aitutaki. The Pacific Resort is a big, splendid hotel with a luxurious pool and a huge, broad beach. I took a cruise around the lagoon there to visit its islets.
The Pacific Resort is a big, splendid hotel
On One Foot Island, I fell asleep under a palm tree, my head and feet resting comfortably on coconuts. I tried lazily to count the colours of the water - the dark green of a distant island, bordered with a bright topaz blue, a streak of aquamarine, and bright lemon over a sand bar.
Our guide there was a beautiful young giant, Philip, son of the local chief. He summoned us back from our explorations by blowing on a conch shell.
On the way home across the lagoon, Philip played bongos while the captain played ukelele, never missing a beat while he steered with one elbow – as I listened and gazed over the sea, hoping my South Sea Bubble would never burst.
