14/1/2026 Rarotongan Kindness

It rained all night, by the bucket load, and was still throwing it down at breakfast time. Once again I was first in, and I was a bit too early this morning, the coffee wasn’t even made! It wasn’t long and one of the lovely ladies bought me one out from the kitchen,  followed a few minutes later by a full pot. I guess they noticed I'm all about the coffee. It’s some of the nicest I’ve tasted so smooth and no unpleasant aftertaste. No passion fruit today,  more papaya, bananas, star fruit and tinned mixed fruit on offer.  I tried a bit of yoghurt this morning . It literally looked curdled and closely resembled cottage cheese. I discovered the small lumps were in fact grated coconut stirred in but the appearance made it look somewhat unappealing! Frankly not the most appetising of what I’ve sampled since my arrival!  I removed that from my platter and stick with the fruit!

Due to the rain all the doors and windows were shut and as more people came in it started to mist up so no one could see out. Not that there was much to see, just more tropical rain. 

The Māori lady who was swimming with the turtles yesterday came in for her breakfast so I asked her how it went.  She explained she got a bit confused with the ticket as it said 12am, even though the trip was 0830hrs. The confusion with the times came from her having to confirm the night before which she hadn’t realised so bless her,  she had turned up ready to go but because she hadn’t confirmed they had to rebook her on. So she was going this morning at 0830hrs. 

More new guests rolled in just after 0700hrs  from Australia, checked in and came and had their breakfast.  The staff joked with them that they had brought the bad weather with them, me?! I wasn’t bloody joking about it at all, they’d definitely bought it with them! After eating my fruit and enjoying my coffee the rain had eased off so I left the restaurant and went to sit and look out over the ocean.  Whilst it had eased off considerably and just spitting, there was another cloud on its way over, wringing out its contents as it blew across the water.  Quite beautiful to watch.  

As I sat watching it blow in I felt a large hand on my shoulder, it was the security guard who had helped me with my bags on my first day here. We chatted for quite a while, the whole time he kept his hand on my shoulder and I could feel the energy coming through him, it was incredibly calming and very soothing .  He told me the Island was a healing place and that it would help me heal amongst some other extremely profound things.  He asked if I had faith, and I explained not any more, for which he said he was sorry, but he would still like to say a prayer for me. I agreed, not because I have any belief in it but more because I believed in his kindness and his energy if that makes sense. 

This month is hitting so much harder than I expected it to. and every word written below resonates. 

Those expectations I had of this month have really not been managed well at all, but all along I have known it’s where I needed to be for the anniversary of Si’s death. Like Fiji, again an incredibly painful and very difficult time, but it was absolutely the right place to be for the first Xmas without Si, our anniversary, my birthday and the dawning of a new year without him (that one hurt way more than I thought because I didn’t expect it)  It was the right place to be because of the people who were there, not just Morgan, but the Islanders. 

It’s the same for being in the Cook Islands, it’s not so much where I am, it's the people I am coming across.  I don’t want to talk to other guests particularly,  (with the exception of my Māori neighbour), I want to talk to the staff, the real people, the ones who have a ready smile on their faces for no other reason than they live in a beautiful place and that is enough of a Reason for them to be happy.  

I want to talk to the lady who cleans my room, she has a beautiful smile, is kind and works hard, these strangers who I will likely never see again once I leave here are the people who will get me through the next month and they won’t have the faintest idea.  With the exception of Suzy, the others know nothing about me or why I’m such a miserable old boot,  and they don’t need to know, but they care and they just seem to know what to say and when to say it.  I chose a resort on the island over the little beach hut Si and I had last time because I wanted the option of being around people (and WiFi) and also I know I’m not strong enough to stay there right now.  What I didn’t realise, on a conscious level at least, was that I wanted to be around the islanders. They are incredibly kind, intuitive, generous and giving people who are always grateful for what they have and where they are. The things that are most precious to them are not their belongings but their Island, the beauty that surrounds them and their people. I am not naive enough to believe there aren’t rotten apples amongst them, of course there are. I just know I am blessed to have met some truly wonderful ones so far and without a doubt they are the ones I was supposed to meet along the way. Most of all I know I’m in the right place because they remind me of my tribe at home. All you wonderful people who show up for me every single day and  just let me sit and rant and blow snot bubbles into your shoulders. The ones who know what to say and even when you don’t you just sit with me. That’s how I know I’m in the right place to get me through this fresh month of hell. 

Hopefully the rain will pass and my physical pain will ease, and I can go on the bus around the Island and hop off at a beachside cafe to go snorkelling. But even if I don’t, I am resting, and getting through it the only way I can. The food is good, the staff are lovely, the cat is pretty good company and amuses me, and there is lots of entertainment on tap if I want to participate.  

For now it’s enough to sit on a sun lounger overlooking the ocean until it rains too hard, and then retreat to my patio to read a book while the warm tropical Rain drips off the palm-fronded roof.  Sometimes a familiar song will make itself heard but other times it’s just noise in the background and I just hear the ones maybe I need to hear. It will completely take my breath away sometimes and I struggle to breathe with the immense pain a mere Song will bring, but there we go,  it is what it is. 

I have some plans of things I want to do, but it is more important at the moment to look after myself and listen to my body.  I’ve got three weeks! So this week I’m going to eat, drink, read,  sleep and repeat. Next week I will leave the resort and do stuff. Good plan Bridget! 

My Māori neighbour seems to be on her first trip out of NZ on her own, I obviously don’t know her story, but just from the way her actions are mirroring my own and some of the conversations I’ve overheard her having with her kids, there is some deep seated sadness there. I was sitting outside reading my book when she came back from her trip and she was almost fizzing on the spot . She was bouncing up and down like a small child in excitement, and utterly mesmerised at what she had seen. The sheer number of turtles she saw and the difference in sizes was incredible. the whole  sea scooter excursion was very scary for her as she doesn’t swim very well, and her exact words to me when she was taken over from the inner reef to the outside of it in the sea scooter were “I fuking shit myself”. The change from the inner reef to the outer is actually terrifying when you aren’t a fan of the water because it goes from beautiful crystal clear waters with white sand and pretty fish to a deep inky blue nothingness and you can’t see the bottom let alone touch it! The first thought for me when I was diving was always sharks … it’s still the same when I snorkel … always the sharks.  She was so proud of herself, not only had she booked the trip, got herself to the right spot, and overcome her fear of the water to do something she really wanted to do. I think she’s an amazing lady.  

I don’t know her story, if she wants to tell me it she will, however I really admire her for what she’s achieving on this holiday.  

During this afternoon she was talking to her daughter whilst on her patio, goddamn rain, and as there are only wooden slats dividing the accommodation it’s very difficult to not over hear other peoples conversations.( Which is why I go in my room when I’m on FaceTimes etc) anyway, she was on the phone with her daughter, and it was just general chat, and then someone joined the conversation and shouted out happy birthday to her.  But as she’s over here, as far as she was concerned it wasn't her birthday yet.  They managed to convince her that she should celebrate it twice, once on New Zealand time the other on Cook Island time. Therefore getting a double birthday.  She agreed it was a good idea except she wouldn’t be adding to her age twice and then commented “ I can’t Believe I forgot  to bring my fucking teeth with me and now have to be out on my birthday without them. “ I was done. I had to go inside. The poor woman hasn’t got a tooth in her head, and is clearly very comfortable not wearing teeth as she manages to suck her toast ok in the mornings and eat very well without them, but the thought of going out without them on her birthday was a disaster. They are clearly her best going out and special occasion teeth bless her heart.  

I really want to ask her about her Tattoos but before I do I need to check if it's not rude or disrespectful. Her Moko Kauae (chin tattoo) is what fascinates me the most. Traditionally they represent prestige and leadership and were only seen on women of high status. There has been a massive resurgence of them amongst young Māori women who are getting them done to honour their ancestors and reclaim their cultural identity.  They used to be regarded as a right of passage, and they believe that the Moko has always been there beneath the surface and it knows when it’s the right time to appear and in what form, it’s a very deep connection between body and spirit if I’ve understood what I’ve read on it properly. Which is why I’d like to talk to her about it to make sure what I’ve read is correct. I think it would be an interesting conversation with a fascinating lady.  

Now I have 4 friends and a cat companion on the Island. I’m practically a native. 

I had to message the bank last night because I went to check that the payment from the Expedia debacle has been refunded to my account. The whole Visa card has disappeared from my account line up.  I chatted with Sandi the message bot who being a bloody machine couldn’t understand what I was asking. Which was basically where the hell is my credit card?? Sandi is a bit dull and asked me on multiple occasions to rephrase the question which was more than a little bit annoying because no matter how I phrased it the ridiculous Sandi was not understanding. I tried asking to chat with a human and then started losing my shit. That actually worked because then I received a message saying my query would be passed to an operator and they would respond within office hours and I had no need to stay in the chat as they would notify me when someone had responded. Well they responded in the early hours whilst I was mid nightmare probably, so by the time I opened the chat this morning they had left a message to call them. Turns out my card has been removed from my account by the fraud team and they have left a phone number for me to contact them to resolve it. That’s more than a little bit annoying quite frankly because I need the card as a back up. So far I have been unable to get through to them to get them to put it back on my account and unfreeze it. Whilst I appreciate their caution when I messaged them regarding the Expedia transaction I was told they couldn’t help me whilst the payment was still pending . Wankers.  So now they’ve taken the precaution of stopping it (wonderful) and for all they know have left me stranded on an island in the middle of Polynesia. They haven’t but that isn’t the point. Honestly you could not make this shit up. God hates me for sure but that’s ok because I completely and utterly despise him for taking Simon from me and absolutely everything is his bloody fault.  Stop fukin raining on me as well you asshole. You think this is bad you should see the rage writing in my notebook Morg bought me… 

Much love 

Mrs Leonard 

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