To understand just how far away this piece of paradise really is, here are a few facts about it – it lies 3514 km west of Chile and 2075 km east of the nearest island. It is rightly called the end of the world and is the most remote point on earth.
The most wonderful thing is that there are flights from only two locations – Santiago, Chile and Tahiti, French Polynesia. Flights don't arrive every day, which keeps the island from becoming overrun with tourists. There is something for every taste – from tents at 9 dollars a night to a luxury spa resort with prices from 600 dollars.
As soon as I boarded the five-hour flight from Santiago, I knew I would leave part of my heart on this island. I met many people like me right on the plane – people with packs on their backs, setting out to discover lands new to them.
Of course I was going to sleep in a tent, just like my new acquaintances. A campsite in the heart of Hanga Roa, the only town on the island. The tents looked out over the endless ocean. From the moment I arrived, I was already part of a community that had come together for a short time.
In the very first hours I found company, and we went on a 6-hour hike that ended with one of the most beautiful sunsets of my life. The setting sun against the majestic statues called Moai.
Dinner was modest, with groceries from Santiago, but with about 20 people from at least 5 or 6 different countries, stories, laughter and new acquaintances.
On the second day it was time for a serious hunt for moai. I filled my bag with water, sandwiches and coffee, and now all I needed was a bike. I found one quickly and for a minimal fee. It turned out to be harder than I thought – the island isn't as flat as I had imagined. I covered over 50 kilometers, but on the most beautiful roads, past blossoming trees, horses, cows, bulls and the most beautiful cliffs hanging over the stormy ocean. I stopped often and sat down to enjoy the solitude; it was wonderful to be alone with myself and my thoughts.
I returned to the campsite happy, with lots of photos and sore legs. We decided it was a perfect day for a campfire and a guitar. Some guys from America had found the fish market and bought 5 kilograms of fresh tuna; they said it was their treat, because it had been a year since they started their trip around the world. Everyone brought out something, everything was shared, and the table kept getting bigger and richer. The dinner was like a gift from the gods – a feast of the freshest and most delicious food, the smoothest wine and wonderful company. We all knew that the sunrise awaited us in the morning, and it was early, but no one was in a hurry or thinking about going to bed. The hours slipped by, accompanied by smiles and stolen glances. The stories had no end, and the guitar strings awaited each next chord. We went to bed happy; I lay quietly in the tent listening to the wind and the waves crashing on the rocks a few meters away from us.
The sun was on our side – it rose at 8 o'clock. We got on the ATVs we had already rented and at 6:30 AM headed to the 15 moai that greet the sunrise every morning. No one dared to say a word; for 1 hour we watched the colors change every minute and the clouds put on the best show for us. We spent the day touring the whole island; we were fast but not in a hurry, we were free and we were flying. Our line of 10 ATVs was impressive and earned us more than one photo from random tourists at the spa resorts. When we returned at dusk from an endless, wonderful day, the fire was already lit and waiting for us. Everything was shared – every product, every piece of clothing and every song.
The next day was one I had long been waiting for. Horseback riding to the highest point of the island and the surrounding area. People quickly realized that the horse and I liked each other right away, and they let me gallop ahead. I broke away from the group and gave in to the racing rhythm of my heart. After 7 hours of riding, I wasn't sure I would be able to stand on my feet when I got out of the saddle. I realized that this was my last evening; every day some people arrived and others left. Tomorrow it was my turn to say goodbye to this place. The chance of ever coming back here is minimal, and that made everything even more precious and intimate. The night was wonderful again; I lay in the tent for a long time enjoying the sounds of nature and the feeling of the endlessness of this world.
My flight was at noon; the last walk was short and slightly nostalgic. More than 15 of us were leaving that day on the only flight of the day back to Santiago. We were like one, as if we had been traveling together for months. Wearing our hiking boots and waterproof jackets, we were seen off by rain and a rainbow. The flight was long and sad; we exchanged emails and social media. After collecting our luggage we said "bye" – maybe forever, or maybe we would meet again at some other end of the world.
I looked back only once and continued on my way alone …