Originally shared on Instagram on December 1, 2025. Photography and story by Mark Middleton.
I had already spent a couple of months wandering through South America before I made it to Santiago, Chile—and then the adventure took a turn I’ll never forget. From Santiago, I flew out to Rapa Nui (Easter Island), a place that had captured my imagination since I was a kid. I’d always dreamed of standing in front of the Moai, these massive stone ancestors carved by the Polynesian settlers who arrived here around A.D. 1200. Today, only about 7,750 people live on the island, most of them descendants of those original navigators.
But the week I arrived, the island wasn’t welcoming tourists. The local Rapa Nui community had decided—quietly, collectively—to shut down every archaeological site in a peaceful protest. No one could enter. Not tourists, not guides. Everything was blocked.
Except, somehow… me.
The woman who ran the small accommodation where I was staying made a few calls on my behalf. She explained that I wasn’t just another visitor—I was a photographer who had traveled a long way to learn, to honor the place, to witness it with respect. And that morning, two locals met me before sunrise and personally escorted me past the barriers to Ahu Tongariki.
As the fog rolled in off the Pacific, fourteen Moai emerged through the mist—silent, enormous, timeless. One still wore its red pukao. The air felt ancient. Sacred. Like the island was holding its breath. I photographed in near silence, humbled and almost stunned that I was allowed to be there at all.
This was the moment that led to the only photograph I’ve ever had distributed on the Associated Press after I posted it on Twitter. I’ll share that one later this month. But today, I wanted to begin December with this image—because this morning felt like stepping into a living myth.
Rapa Nui is remote, rugged, mysterious… and absolutely unforgettable. And this quiet hour alone with the Moai is something I will remember for the rest of my life.
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