When people fly five hours to an island 3,700 km away from the mainland, they want photographic proof of having been there. Lots of photos. Tourists were walking up and down in silly poses before each stone statue on Easter Island, photographing themselves with cameras mounted on ski poles.
I don’t do that. After all, I have a brain to record memories.
Only after walking around the crater of Rano Kau, I was apparently too exhausted to pull my legs out of the photo in time.
And in Tongariki, I was so lost in thought that I walked into my own picture.
And these are all the photos of myself from one week on Easter Island. I was probably the only visitor who left without a photo of himself grimacing in front of a statue. But I did get to explore more of the island itself; a full report will be published on this blog soon.