By Kathy Giuffre
In an try to break out from her tense lifestyles as a unmarried operating mom of 2 younger boys, Kathy Giuffre books a year-long journey for 4 in a tropical paradise. on the final minute, her boyfriend pronounces he's not becoming a member of them, and Kathy unearths herself in an unlivable apartment in Rarotonga, a tiny speck in the course of the South Pacific Ocean. Her not going savior is Emily, an 82-year-old Maori lady with a wide white condo at the fringe of the sea, which the 2 girls percentage with callous missionaries, the ghosts of Emily’s ancestors, and, in brief, a weird and wonderful couple from japanese Europe. As time passes, Kathy is seduced by means of the island and its humans and by means of emotions she hasn't ever earlier than skilled. this can be an inspirational tale approximately having the braveness to go looking for anything greater and discovering it—serenity, sensuality, and, finally, love.
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Additional resources for An Afternoon in Summer: My Year on a South Sea Island, Doing Nothing, Gaining Everything, and Finally Falling in Love
I lived there with my two children. Aiden was seven when we arrived and Tris was three. Their father had left when I was pregnant the second time, so it seemed as though it had always been just the three of us. It didn’t seem strange to be living on an island so far away from everything we knew, as long as we were together. Rarotonga is the main island of the Cook Islands, a country in central Polynesia, west of Tahiti and east of Tonga. Tiny and beautiful, it is surrounded by a wide turquoise lagoon and a sharp coral reef.
It is too breathtaking to be pretty, but is beautiful in the way that things can be only if they have something dark hidden in their depths. At the very foot of the mountains there is a road built a thousand years ago by an ancestor called Toi. Although the road peters out all together in some places, you have to follow it if you want to find the sites of ancient marae, the sacred temples where the Rarotongans worshipped their gods for a millennium before the Christian missionaries came and moved everyone out to the beach, where the missionaries could see clearly what was going on.
And I met a man named Nate Flynn, another painter. He thought it was nice I had brought the boys along with me. “Good on you,” he said twice. After we had looked at the art, the boys ran around outside while I stood on the front porch of the gallery and chatted to Ted and Tim and Nate and Kay, asking them about themselves, telling them nothing about me. We had to leave early though, because Aiden got too close to the hot exhaust pipe of one of the motorbikes parked in front and burned his calf.