Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
A: To get to the beach!
Rarotonga is the spiritual home of Free Range Chicken. Chickens roam freely around the island in vast numbers (my google-fu isn’t strong enough to get any estimated numbers). It’s quite interesting, whilst lazing in a hammock, to watch them scratch and peck at the ground, and see how they organise themselves. Even watching the order in which they cross the road reveals some kind of plan. Particularly endearing is watching a hen with her chicks.
Chickens are everywhere, even at the airport:
You may recall that my room had a garden outside, but what city-dwelling readers might not realise is that chickens cluck all night long, and that cockerels don’t wait until dawn to start crowing. This little bastard and his pals made my nights horrendous until I had the bright idea of using my earplugs:
I ordered chicken at a restaurant one day, and remarked that at least it was local and free range. It turns out this is a massively false assumption: chicken is imported into the Cook Islands from the USA. They can have the one from my garden – they’d be doing me a favour!