Day Three
West coast. There's a good four hour trek up the west coast returning inland via a couple of Moais. It's hot, humid and my backpack is heavy - 6l of water. The walk up the coast is mind blowing, i keep on going, i've missed the turning, where am i? No idea. Thankfully a geezer doing a very good impression of Omar Sharif appears, sans camel and desert but heyho. He informs me i've gone 3 miles too far. Bollocks. I point to the hill and ask if i can walk up there, you have to stick to paths. He says no, but i should do it anyway and at the top i'll hit a path, no one will know and he says the views are amazing.
Tresspassing, another first for me. It's 500m up, it takes awhile but my backpack's weight is lessening. The view at the top covers all the island, the many volcanoes, and 360 degress of pacific nothingness. Awesome. Sit down, have a fag and listen to my i-pod - heaven.
The town seems miles away. Mainly because it is. Follow the path down and bump into a group of seven Moai. Speechless. A woman is selling mini pineapples. I've got no food so buy two. Here the cut the skin off and you eat it whilst holding the green planty top (what's it called?). Gorgeous. It then takes another 4 hours to get back. 8 1/2 hours and approx 24 miles, my legs feel fine, i'm either in shock or very fit (for me).
Another sunrise, but nowhere near as good. More ladies dancing, more beer and more kebabs. It doesn't get any better. It's Istanpool revisited.
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