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The louring clouds hung like dirty smoke on the horizon and a light rain was falling.

“It is a blessing,” said the philosopher-groundsman as he swept the pool area. Just then a sound like rocks in a celestial cement mixer signaled we could add thunder to our list of blessings.

“Many babies in the lagoon now,” he said “Fish need thunder to spawn.”

I have no idea if this is true but if so then my time in the Cook Islands was accompanied by a mass rush of fish fertility. For it rained and rumbled on and off most of the time I was there.

But did anyone grumble about the rumbles? Not the locals who always referred to it as a blessing. Not the tourists who shrugged and said “At least it’s warm rain.” And certainly not me sheltering in the comfort of luxe digs as I journeyed through Rarotonga to Aitutaki.

Luxe is not a word you usually associate with the Cooks (in fact it may not even be a real word). I can remember the proud claim made by tourism folk years ago that if you wanted a five-star experience, try Tahiti. The Cook Islands were for people who wanted a more ‘real’ holiday. Well real is still here but now, so is fantasy.

The Pacific Resort got in early but its younger sister in Aitutaki is the real star. Now there’s a sentence I thought I’d never write. The last time I was in Aitutaki (quite some time ago obviously) I saw the building site that would become the resort. We all tut-tutted sadly about the showy pony coming to ruin this quiet beauty.

The Aitutaki Lagoon Resort, the most upmarket property of the day, was enough we felt. How times change. Now that resort looks tired and muddled while the Pacific is simply splendid.

There’s something inherently luxurious about landscaped tropical foliage. It’s so rampant and vivid. Even in the rain, the foliage sparkles. And the privacy those enormous fronds afford is handy in a large resort.

Etu Moana does great foliage too. In fact the gardens of this boutique lodge are drop-dead gorgeous with great splashes of red, yellow and green broken by huge clouds of frothy white blossom. Etu Moana doesn’t just give you great property. They’ve created ambience. There is a difference.

But you can’t sit around admiring the ingenious construction of your bungalow all day even if it is raining. You have to drive around the island. Okay. Did that. Ate up half an hour. And then a lagoon cruise. Yes, in the rain with choppy sea and the wind cutting up rough. Not even torrential downpours put people off. I know why too. It’s because you fear you may never pass anywhere this lovely again for a very long time and you wouldn’t want to miss it.

Aitutaki Lagoon is large with turquoise waters clear as gin thanks to the presence of all those unpleasant looking sea cucumbers lying on the sea floor. They are the vacuum cleaners of the lagoon apparently and I should be kind to them. Don’t worry. I had no intention of standing on them.

Before we get to our snorkeling destination we are dropped off at two islands en-route. One is the former refueling stop for an airline of yesteryear, TEAL, the other is known as mahogany island (three guesses why) and was also featured in Survivor where it was called Sharkey’s Island.

Our final stop is One-Foot Island where you can send a card postmarked with the one-foot island stamp plus have the distinctive mark put in your passport. You can also eat a fine barbeque lunch of tuna, salad and fruit as your reward for a hard day’s snorkeling. Fortunately fish don’t know it’s raining. Or perhaps they do. Next time I shall ask my philosopher-groundsman if rain heralds any other fishy carry-on.

One lagoon cruise is not enough. Another on Rarotonga is a must. Okay you can snorkel yourself and see much the same pretty fishies, defunct black pearl farm and spongy lipped clams but you won’t get an umu-cooked lunch and you certainly won’t get the best day’s entertainment to be had on the island. Captain Tama’s Tours are manned by some very smart, very funny, very handsome local talent. Reason enough to go frankly although I did take issue with their cheery commentary about my accommodation.

“Look over there,” says our guide pointing wildly. “That’s Rumours Luxury Villas and Spa. Costs $1200 a night. Whoa. Imagine that. And they’ve got fish swimming under glass floors!” Sharp intake of breath.

Well not quite Sherlock. The fish swim in little streams running along the villa’s walls. Still pretty amazing. As amazing as your own pool, spa, gift basket, giant telly and in one villa an entire movie suite.

Rumours and its neighbour Te Manava Villas & Spa are both discreetly decorated in earthy tones with similar romantic fancies such as canopied beds and outdoor showers. Te Manava is cheaper up front but you pay extra for services provided at Rumours. I spent quite a lot of pointless time trying to work out which was best but gave up. They were both lavish.

Privacy seems to be the in-thing for upmarket resorts. The Crown Beach Resort takes it to new heights by creating a mini-walled city within its precincts. The courtyard rooms are well-appointed if you like black and white and offer the obligatory private pool but after spending time there I felt like I was in a very luxe prison and happily went out and joined the hoi polloi at the perfectly nice public pool. My suffering was also greatly assuaged by a skillful aromatic massage in their Ariki Spa.

So the final day dawns and I have done nothing but work work work. So now it is time for me because I deserve it. I deserve a morning eating at the Saturday market even though the fatty food destroys the memory of the great meals I had at The Little Polynesian and the most excellent Tamarind House.

I follow this with shopping where I don’t buy black pearls, Annie Bonza clothing or cushion covers from Tivaevae Collectables because I am having a minimalist year and not buying baubles. Instead I head for Kay and Ian George’s gallery and purchase a painting which costs a lot more than any dress but will look good for longer and that’s a saving really isn’t it?

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