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Where the Hell is Michael?

Hanga Roa, Chile


First off I have to apologise for the number of photos crammed into this bog entry, but what are you suppose to do in somewhere like Easter Island? There are some bonus ones at the end.

The six hour flight from Santiago to Easter Island was quite rough and when it came to the descent, the pilot had to back off and try again. In the end we spent two hours circling around around the island waiting for the weather to break. A few of the passengers were becoming visibly anxious and after a while we both started to wonder about the amount of fuel they carry for the flight; after all if they are completely unable to land, where can they divert to? - it's probably back to Santiago. Nonetheless we landed in one piece, prompting spontaneous clapping from the passengers, something I've not seen for many a year. Clearly there were a lot of relieved people on board.

Of course, the weather was still awful when we arrived, but this didn't stop the hostel manager from putting garlands around our necks when we introduced ourselves, as if we had arrived at some tropical paradise. The airport was tiny, though, and this combined with the garlands combined to give me a very quaint first impression of the place. It's the most remote inhabited place on Earth, over two thousand miles from Chile, and somehow I felt really aware of it as soon as we landed; maybe it was just the amount of time I had to meditate on that fact while we should have been landing, but I think there is more to it than that; maybe the way the skies look or the way the air smells or the way the sea moves. The drive to the hostel was a bit uglier than I was hoping. It may just have been the weather, but I wondered if we had made a mistake to stay there for so long.

The only other new arrivals on the minibus to be picked up with us were school children, and lots of them. Alarm bells were already starting to ring. We were booked into this hostel for three nights and we were planning to ask whether we could stay an extra two, despite what the website had said, because we really couldn't afford to stay at the place we had booked into for the last two nights. Were we really going to have to spend five night with a school party? We hid in our room and spoke to Guillermo, an Asturian who was already resident in our “dorm”. We had originally been booked into different dorms because the hostel was so heavily booked: with Joanne in a female dorm and me in a mixed dorm, but the manager must have taken pity on us and re-allocated us to Guillermo's dorm. The “dorm” looked like it was probably one of the owner's children who had been kicked out to make more space (and money). Seeing how easily he could re-shuffle we asked about the extra two days and were told it was no problem, saving us about US$100. We would be able to eat! By the evening the weather had improved and Joanne and I wandered down to the sea for the sunset.

When we woke I went through to the dining room, excited at the prospect of the free breakfast, while Joanne finished showering. I sat down and waited to be served; the table would need to be cleared first. But nobody came. After waiting some more I noticed that there were a couple of undisturbed places at different tables and I was so hungry that I collected together enough unused crockery, including a couple of plates with bread rolls covered with a paper napkin, and two glasses of juice, each covered with a napkin. Was this really how breakfast was supposed to work? We scavenged a little meat and cheese from plates in the middle of several different tables and half-used jam and butter. That was breakfast. At least there was coffee too.

We had originally planned to rent bicycles but, considering that the weather seemed quite unpredictable and the difference in price was almost nothing, we opted for a moped again. The weather held for most of the day and never turned awful like the previous day. We intended to spend that first day seeing as many of the major sights as we could, reckoning we could tick off all of the moais in one day. We set out up the East coast of the island and found the terrain to be rather worse than we had hoped, but we had been warned that the roads are not much good apart from the main ones. Soon we found ourselves at a volcano, which was odd because we hadn't intended to head that way. It was an excellent bonus though. I've never seen a volcanic crater before and this small volcano offered excellent vistas over the town, Hanga Roa, the only town on the island. From up there (not really all that high) we could easily see two sides of the island and, were it not for a couple of other hills, we would have been able to see the whole thing. It really is tiny; it's about the same size as Bute. To think of an entire civilisation isolated here, without any outside contact, is incredible; for the whole of the known universe to be just sixty square miles, I find mind-boggling. Every single person would know almost every piece of ground that the entire civilisation knew of: reality was bounded, and they could walk from one end to the other in a day. How comforting that must have been. Or maddeningly boring.

We corrected our navigational error and found ourselves on a much nicer, bigger road. After a while we were starting to wonder where the moais were, when Joanne spotted something. It was quite exciting but a bit of an anti-climax. I had refused to even take a photo of the moai in town because I was convinced it was a reproduction or at least not a very good one because it was much smaller than I had expected, but this first one we found out of town was even smaller and in worse condition. Also, according to the map, we had already missed a few on the way. Considering the time we had taken for the detour to the volcano, we thought we should press on and return another day to find the missing moais if time allowed.

Joanne's next sighting was a vital one, and not so easy. We had been expecting them all to be sign-posted for the tourists, after all how many other reasons are there to go to the island, but so far there had been only small signs you would see after the moais. In this case they weren't so easy to see because the were all lying face down like old boys from Partick a bit worse for wear. Before we went there I had read that some of them had been vandalised by the islanders before any Europeans arrived, so it wasn't too much of a shock, and at least these ones were pretty big so we could get a much better idea of how impressive they must have been while still intact. The moais all stand (or stood) on an ahu, a platform built up from boulders. The island literature says that these have a sacred significance, so you must not walk on these. How this can be true when the islanders themselves desecrated the sites I cannot grasp, but I applaud any emotional blackmail the archaeologists can play on less respectful, but superstitious, tourists.



We picked our way up the coast, from site to site, missing several more, and they were all demolished. Some of them were huge things, though, and we could still appreciate the awe they must have instilled. But we were becoming a bit impatient: where were the really incredible sites? We started to skip sites deliberately if we knew from the guidebook that it was just more of the same. We still stopped for a really large one or a particularly intact ahu, but we wanted to move on to the big hitters. Near the far end of the island from Hanga Roa we passed close to the volcano Rano Raraku, where we knew we could find half-carved moais in the quarry there, but we continued because just round the corner was Ahu Tongariki the most complete site on the island.

Finally we could feel the full force of the awe that these statues are presumably meant to inspire: fifteen of them lined up along the coast, the biggest enormous. Of course the whole site is rebuilt. What I hadn't realised before going to Easter Island is that not just some of the moais were vandalised, but almost all of them were toppled. This site had been destroyed twice: once by the islanders and then the ahu itself was demolished by a tsunami in the 20th Century. Despite being repaired, the site is lovely. I'd had a discussion, verging on argument, with the American archaeologist we met the first night in Xiàhé about restoration. I agreed that I hated things to be over-restored, like many of the sites in Sukhothai, but he would leave everything exactly where it lay when archaeologists found it. What on Earth would be the point of fifteen giant stone statues lying facedown when the restoration involves little more than standing them up and sticking their heads back on? It's very impressive, it's very beautiful, and I don't care if it's not how the Europeans found it. Actually the first Europeans there found them all standing up, so I have a theory that it was actually later Europeans who knocked them all down but, when they later felt guilty about it, made up a story about the natives having a civil war; after all who wrote the history?

Finally totally awed by the scene, I felt obliged to pay a little tribute to Matt Harding, whose Where the Hell is Matt? videos contributed a significant nudge in finally getting it together to go on this big trip. If his videos don't make you want to see more of the world then nothing will. I don't think I quite captured his dancing but I gave it my best shot.

Matt

Me

Next we headed up to the quarry and got some nice shots, but we didn't pay to go in because the ticket only lasts one day and includes a couple of other sites on the island, which we reckoned we would be able to see all of another day. Instead we continued on to the beach at the North End of the island, which is a lovely fine sand beach with several moais looming in the background. We narrowly avoided getting stuck in the mud on the road on the way to the beach, but made it back completely unscathed and very please with the day we had.




permalink written by  The Happy Couple on September 7, 2009 from Hanga Roa, Chile
from the travel blog: Michael's Round-the-World honeymoon
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