My recent sojourn in Norfolk Island is unquestionably a God-send. Flying direct from Auckland, I arrived at the airport with its single luggage conveyor and was warmly welcomed back to a way of living I had somehow lost touch with.

Here, the average speed limit is 40 km/h and as a general rule, livestock has right of way. Cows are the ubiquitous lawn mowers that keep the grass on the roadsides tidy. They are quite the picture of contentment often seen under the magnificent norfolk pines, chewing their cud as they contemplate perhaps not much at all.

Driving here is a breeze with not a single traffic light in sight, only one roundabout in the town centre, and chickens and potholes the main obstacles to negotiate. I’ve been told a cruise ship arrives in the harbour tomorrow. About 1000 people are about to descend on the island. Like locusts, they will invade every nook and cranny and they will consume all they can from food and beverage to crafts and souvenirs then sights and scenes. Unlike locusts, they will pay for what they consume and hopefully, the economic benefits will make up for the environmental incursion.

All day, I have not spied a single cellphone in use. The one the motel manager furnished me for emergencies, was an old Nokia that had neither a camera nor a means for storing music. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I nursed the device in my hand — it was really only good for making phone calls but wasn’t that what phones were all meant to only do? Wireless internet connection on the island is not freely available. Most visitors buy pre-loaded data cards at convenience stores so they can access the 2G network which makes surfing the internet an act of patience and  an attempt at Skype-type internet chats an exercise in perseverance.

Still, Norfolk Island takes me back to a time when life wasn’t racing along at the speed of thought and a one finger wave while still holding onto the steering is a courteous hello to the driver on the other side of the road.

The sun rises at Cascade Bay and sets at Anson Bay. Twice a day, I look on in wondrous amazement at the golden glow that must be a mere fraction of God’s glory. How awesome is our God who turns the sky from blue to gold and then to all the hues of His radiance?