Hello from the other side of the globe! Yes, I know an update's been long overdue and I'm sure you've all been pacing up and down, unable to sleep or concentrate on anything, so for the sake of the British economy, love-lives, dying houseplants, malnourished pets, etc, here goes.

First I'll rewind a little. My first stop was New York. It was cold. Bloody cold! -2c in fact, which was not good considering that I had packed for summer in the southern hemisphere, i.e. v. little in the way of warm clothing. However, New York is a great place and I only had two clear days there so it wasn't a problem. I just had to make sure I kept moving... and occasionally stand over subway grates to take advantage of the warm rising air. I'm happy to report the Statue of Liberty is still there, and the immigration museum on Ellis Island is well worth a look too. I also went on a walking tour around Wall St. Naturally I dropped in and asked them what they had been messing around at recently and told them I could do a better job, but for the moment I'm busy travelling so they'll have to pull their fingers out. So expect the world financial system to pick up. You're welcome, as they say a lot in New York. Even those than can't speak English.

Next stop was LA. What a contrast. 27c, that's more like it! Though it does feel peculiar for it to be that warm and the sun to set at around 5pm. Another amusing, subtle difference I noticed was the use of the horn while driving. (Insert your own punchline here.) In NY, use of the horn conveys the message, "I'm pulling out, consider yourself warned." In LA, it conveys, "What the hell do you think you're doing pulling into my path?!" Come to think of it, with New Yorkers living in LA and Californians living in NY, it shouldn't be any surprise that you hear car horns almost constantly. And in New York, no surprise that the emergency vehicles seem to have about fifteen different siren sounds, which they switch between constantly, sounding like some manic toddler with the latest Fisher Price 'music' toy.

Anyway, despite that, I really like the US. As you'll probably have heard others say, much of it is eerily familiar, like you've been dropped onto the set of an American film or TV episode. Just as they come to an end though (except Lost of course) so did my time in the land of opportunity. In particular, lots of opportunity to put lots of weight on and be a target for marketing. Apologies, I digress.

So, I left the US and flew to Rarotonga, largest of The Cook Islands, in the south pacific. On arrival at the airport we were greeted by Jake, a man in a hat playing the ukelele as we walked into Arrivals. You don't get that at Heathrow! I joined the transfer bus to my hostel (pleasingly priced: free) and at 7am a group of us were sitting under coconut palms on the hostel's deck, overlooking the clear blue water in the lagoon and marvelling about what a beautiful place we were in whilst waiting for the office to open so we could check in.

My style of planning that you will by now be familiar with (arrive, spend two weeks in a hostel, leave two weeks later and no specific plans in between) really came into its own here. Honestly, all these project managers must obviously be pulling a fast one. After all, to paraphrase Spike Milligan, if there's no plan nothing can go wrong. So not planning to not get a cold on arrival was not a departure from the plan. On the contrary, it meant I didn't feel bad about doing next to nothing for most of the first week, just reading, ambling about a little and the occasional swim in the warm shallow lagoon. So shallow, incidentally, that you could walk right out to the reef if you wanted to. But careful not to walk too much further, as the bottom then quickly drops off to the ocean floor at a depth of about 4,000m! You see, all The Cook Islands formed volcanically, and although I didn't visit the others in the group, Rarotonga certainly has a prehistoric feel to the landscape. In fact, on a kayaking trip out to the reef I turned around to be greeted by a vista that looked like something straight out of Jurassic Park - amazing. On the same trip we also saw a large eagle ray swim right past us. It must have been real, as it wasn't (quite) big enough to have been a person in disguise like in a Bond film.

That's the other feeling I got from the island, that it's the kind of sleepy little place where 007 might charter a private fishing boat to go and check out some mysterious goings-on on an apparently deserted little islet just off the coast. However, I didn't find time to do so myself so apologies in advance if any archvillains hold the world to ransom.

The second week, my cold had cleared (or so I thought) and I got a little more active, beginning my four-day PADI open water diving course (scuba diving). My timing was excellent (naturally) as on the second day of it the glorious weather gave way to two days of torrential rain! i.e. Not great weather for sunbathing. According to the local newspaper, we had 200mm of rain in one 24 hour period. If that sounds like a lot, so it should. It certainly looks and feels like a lot! Walking into a hotel's outdoor swimming pool all geared up in scuba gear while the wind drives the rain in sideways feels hilarious, though on the other hand it's probably bizarrely appropriate, and after all, it doesn't matter once you're below the surface.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to finish the course as on the second day of open water diving (beyond the reef) I couldn't 'equalise' my left ear. An appointment with a local doctor the next day revealed a throat/inner ear infection as the cause, no doubt a remnant of the cold I had the week before. Thankfully the prescription didn't include any mysterious potions, chants, dancing or ritual sacrifice. Though incidentally, they do eat dogs on the island apparently. A vet told me that, so I'm inclined to believe it. There's some controversy that the chap employed by the police to round up 'strays' may be a little over-zealous with his rifle. You can work out the rest!

Anyway, back to the diving. Not to worry, I can complete the course at any of the many PADI centres around the world. Like in New Zealand for example, which is where I'm writing this from now. Yes, all good things must come to an end, and so it was that regrettably I had to leave 'The Cooks' having developed quite a soft spot and having been seriously tempted to extend my stay. Perhaps it helped that as we scurried across the tarmac to climb the steps to the plane, the rain was once again lashing in sideways!

I'll end this post with a question for you. Have you ever had your hair cut by a camp pacific islander whilst it's swealtering outside, Christmas songs jollily playing on the radio and the sound of chickens running around outside the door? Perhaps you should. :-)