All the locals live in the small village of Hangaroa, the only one on the whole island. The rest of the island is covered by yellowish-green meadows, mountains, and extinct volcanoes. Moai are located around the perimeter of the island. Here, you will not be bothered by the hustle and bustle of a big city, no irrelevant sounds nor events that constantly need your attention, only beauty and silence. If you go further into the island, you might think that it is lifeless, as if all the inhabitants had gone underground, into their caves. This is what they used to do in the past, during the unsettling and troubled times. The whole island is channeled with underground tunnels and covered with caves that look more like mousetraps that are hiding masterfully covered, tiny entrances. Some of the caves are open, so you are free to enter, just bend your head and go. Others, carefully concealed with stones, and can only be found by special signs. Some of them penetrate the whole mountainside and lead straight into the ocean. I immediately remembered how in New Zealand, halfway down into the Waitomo cave, I experienced a sudden claustrophobia attack and almost fainted, but still decided to continue walking all the way to the end, through all the intricate labyrinths of underground tunnels. Here, I didn’t dare to risk again and figured I’d better stay out of the narrow passageways of the Paschal caves.