The internet is terrible and I’m having a helluva time uploading pictures or really doing anything network related. The flight from Santiago to Hanga Roa on Easter Island (Isla de Pascua to Chileans and Rapa Nui to the indigenous people) takes about five and a half hours. Right now we are, I believe, about halfway between Chile and New Zealand. Or: literally in the middle of fucking nowhere. All to wander through the mysterious fields of moai (giant stone heads). 

Tomorrow morning, David will run up one of the volcanic craters while I walk up it with notebook and binoculars. We will maybe walk to some caves afterwards. And in the afternoon we will ride horses to the top of the tallest volcanic cone. We’ll have one more full day after that. 

Already the ceviche here has won us over. The rain is  falling hard on the tin roof of our room and all of the birds have quieted down. There are bougainvillea and cannas and banana trees everywhere. It’s muddy and colorful and the stray dogs are all beggars. This is the farthest edge of  Polynesia. This is as far as Maui sailed his boat.  

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