Kiribati

Kiribati is a country of contrasts. I based myself in Betio, the country’s main urban area, which was one of the roughest places I visited in the Pacific. The streets were crowded, much of the infrastructure was run down, and there was little of the idyllic tropical paradise many people imagine when they think of Pacific islands. Tourism was almost nonexistent. Most of the people staying at my hotel were Australian construction workers on temporary contracts. The upside was that they were always up for a beer, and I spent several evenings swapping stories with them after long days of exploring. Walking around Betio, I carried a stick to keep stray dogs at a distance as I passed abandoned World War II relics and neighborhoods that offered a glimpse into everyday life in one of the world’s most remote countries.

The other side of Kiribati couldn’t have been more different. Through a fellow traveler, I was connected with a local guide named Molly, a wonderful woman in her seventies who had spent years introducing visitors to her homeland. Together, we drove north before taking a small boat across to North Tarawa. There, the crowded streets of Betio gave way to pristine beaches, swaying palm trees, and crystal-clear water. It felt like an entirely different country despite being only a short distance away. Kiribati may not have been my favorite Pacific nation overall, but North Tarawa showed me a side of the country I’ll always remember fondly.