A sweet aroma was in the air as I entered the cabin of my Cook Islands-bound aeroplane. It came from the frangipanis in the stewardesses’ hair, saturating me with a soothing sensation. For a pleasant moment I forgot I was stuck in the aisle of a busy plane.
 
I arrived on the Cook Islands’ largest island, Rarotonga, at 3am in the morning. While the sky above the airport was inky dark, the scene below was one of colourful festivity. Resort hosts greeted new arrivals with a friendly Kia Orana (hello) as that quintessential fragrance of frangipani wafted between the crowds.
 
A passionate local played bouncy tunes on his ukelele in the arrivals lounge. His music healed my heavy legs and invited me to dance. At that hour he should have been asleep, but he stayed awake to receive us in his home. What a welcome.

And what a home. The beauty of Rarotonga revealed itself to me in the morning. A few steps away from my resort room was the mighty Pacific Ocean. Heavy waves thumped against the coral lagoon a hundred meters away from shore. The ocean beyond the lagoon was murky, but closer to shore the water magically changed colour to a pretty aquamarine. The Pacific beckoned, but I saved my swim for the warmer waters of the afternoon.

Instead, I walked to the capital Avarua, two kilometres away. I took the Ara Tapu road that runs along the entire coastline of Rarotonga. This trek took me through the outskirts of the capital, where I passed beachfront homes of the locals. A few run-down properties were scattered on this route. Occasionally I glimpsed their gorgeous backyard views and wondered why anyone would abandon such prime real estate.

Avarua is a lively township where locals and tourists mix as they relax at outdoor bistros and browse through eclectic shops. Paying a visit to one of the many jewellery stores is a must. They sell enchanting Cook Island black pearls, from spotty irregular ones to perfect glossy balls. I bought a few jagged ones, pleased that even on my budget I could afford real pearls.

Walking around Avarua was delightful, but exploring the entire island requires a car or a moped. For this reason, the police station is one of the popular venues in Avarua. Each day, tourists queue outside to obtain a licence to ride or drive on the island. I joined them and soon I held a genuine Cook Islands drivers licence.

In no time, I was in an open-top Suzuki. With a balmy breeze ruffling my hair, I returned to Ara Tapu road and began my round-the-isle journey. My first stop was an unspoiled beach on the Western coast, where I dawdled in the crystal water. Next was Ngatangiia Harbour that looks out to nearby islands, from where I took a road into the heart of Rarotonga.

I immediately entered a wilderness of lofty palm trees. I passed a banana plantation, and a couple of  loitering piglets. An old art gallery sign caught my attention and I followed its arrow. A charming artist, with a frangipani in her hair, showed me her vivid paintings, and her house, and gave me some of her ripened bananas.

My last stop of the day was at the Perfume Factory in Avarua. Black orchid, frangipani, jasmine, gardenia – countless perfumes were exhibited on the four walls of the showroom. In the centre, the owner of the Factory was explaining the process of making perfume to curious tourists. I opened a frangipani tester and that memorable soothing scent enveloped me once more.  

I returned back to the resort with several bottles of that perfume in tow. I still had a lot of exploring to do, but the essence of the Cook Islands was already with me – a spirited fragrance that would last beyond this perfect day.