Things to Do in Tarawa

About Tarawa

Tarawa doesn’t feel like an island; it feels like a thin, sharp line drawn between ocean and lagoon, where the road is the only geography that matters. The scent hits first — salt spray mixed with diesel from the pickup trucks that serve as buses, and the sweet, fermenting smell of coconut husks drying in the sun. You’re never more than a few hundred meters from the water on this V-shaped atoll, but the two sides are different worlds. The ocean side at Bairiki is a relentless, windswepped expanse of crashing surf and WWII bunkers slowly being swallowed by pandanus roots. The lagoon side, from Betio to Buota, is calm enough to hear children laughing as they wade for clams, its shallows the color of mint-green glass. The main road, a single paved artery, connects everything: the Parliament House in Ambo, a modern concrete complex; the thatched-roof maneabas (meeting houses) of North Tarawa, where a ferry ride costs AUD 2 (about .35); and the rusting hulks of Sherman tanks still sitting in the shallows off Betio, where one of the war’s bloodiest battles turned the water red. Infrastructure is basic, power cuts are routine, and the internet moves at the pace of a drifting outrigger canoe. But that’s the point. You come here to feel the weight of history in the iron of a sunken tank, to eat tuna so fresh it was swimming an hour ago (grilled on a coconut-husk fire for about AUD 5/.25 a plate), and to understand that resilience isn’t a metaphor — it’s a woman weaving a pandanus mat in the shade while the tide comes in.

Travel Tips

Transportation: Getting around South Tarawa means riding the ‘public’ trucks — converted pickups with bench seats that run up and down the main road. Flag one down anywhere; a ride from the airport in Bonriki to Betio, the full length of the atoll, costs about AUD 2 (.35). They don’t run on a schedule, they run when full, so patience is your real ticket. For North Tarawa, you’ll need the ferry from Betio. It’s one rusty barge, costs AUD 2, and its departure ‘schedule’ is famously fluid — ask at the Betio market the day before. Renting a motorbike is possible but tricky; the main road is potholed, and you’ll be sharing it with chickens, pigs, and children. Walking is only viable in short stretches due to the heat. Your best move: hire a local driver for the day (expect to pay around AUD 50-70 / -45) — they’ll know which causeways are flooded and where the trucks are actually stopping.

Money: The Australian dollar is the official currency here, and cash is king. ATMs exist in Bairiki and Betio, but they’re prone to running out of notes, especially on Fridays before the weekend. Withdraw more than you think you’ll need. Credit cards are accepted at the two major hotels (Catherine II and Mary’s) and maybe one or two other places, but everywhere else — from the market stalls to the truck fares — operates on wrinkled Aussie notes and coins. Tipping isn’t a local custom, but rounding up or offering a small extra amount for a guided service is appreciated. A major pitfall: assuming you can pay for a homestay or a boat trip with a card. Always confirm payment methods in advance and carry small denominations. A surprising budget-saver: the local betel nut (buaka), sold in little bundles, is a stimulant chewed by many locals. It’s not for everyone, but for a few dollars it’s a cultural experience that costs less than a coffee back home.

Cultural Respect: Kiribati society is deeply communal and modest. When visiting a village, especially on North Tarawa, it’s expected you’ll first seek out the unimane (village elder) to introduce yourself and state your purpose — a simple “Ko na mauri” (hello) and an explanation goes a long way. Dress conservatively: cover shoulders and knees for both men and women. Photography requires permission, always. Taking a picture of a person, a maneaba, or even a canoe without asking is a serious breach. The etiquette around the maneaba is strict: never walk across the central floor space, always sit cross-legged, and try to enter from the side, not the front. A simple, respectful act: when offered food or drink (likely coconut water), accept it with both hands. Refusing is considered rude. The biggest potential for offense comes from a lack of patience; things move on ‘island time.’ Frustration or visible irritation is seen as a personal failing, not a justified reaction to a three-hour ferry delay.

Food Safety: The rule here is simple: eat what’s cooked, drink what’s boiled or sealed, and embrace the coconut. The safest and most spectacular food is the fish. At the Betio fish market, you’ll see wahoo, tuna, and reef fish laid out on banana leaves at dawn. Buy a fillet (about AUD 5-7 for enough for two) and take it to a nearby family-run grill — they’ll cook it over coconut husks for a small fee. The result is sublime. The national dish, te bua (pounded taro or breadfruit), is always served cooked and is safe. Be cautious with raw salads or unpeeled fruit from street stalls, as washing water can be scarce. For drinking, sealed bottled water is available, but it’s expensive and plastic waste is a huge problem. A better solution: buy a young green coconut (te ni). The vendor will hack it open with a machete for about AUD 2 — the water inside is sterile, delicious, and you eat the soft jelly-like flesh with a piece of the shell. Avoid ice in drinks unless you’re at one of the major hotels. Your stomach will thank you.

When to Visit

Your experience of Tarawa is almost entirely dictated by the wind. The year splits into two seasons, and your preference depends entirely on your tolerance for humidity. The Aumeang (dry season) runs roughly April to October. This is when the te bau (easterly trade winds) blow, bringing lower humidity, slightly cooler temperatures (a relative term — still 28-32°C / 82-90°F), and far less rain. This is objectively the most comfortable time for visitors. Hotel prices are at their peak (though ‘peak’ here means around AUD 150-200 / 0-130 per night for the best rooms), and flights from Fiji on Fiji Airways are slightly more expensive and book up faster. This is also festival season, with Independence Day celebrations on July 12th turning Bairiki into a week-long party of canoe races, traditional dance (te kamei), and feasting. The Aumaiaki (wet season) from November to March brings the westerlies. Humidity soars, daily downpours are intense but brief, and the heat becomes stifling (30-35°C / 86-95°F). This is the off-peak. You might find flight and accommodation deals, with prices dropping maybe 20-30%, but you trade that for frequent power outages, muddy roads, and a higher chance of your lagoon tour being rained out. For cultural purists, this is when local life is most inward-focused, offering a rawer, less performative view. For families or first-timers, the dry season is likely your best bet. For the budget-conscious adventurer willing to sweat, the wet season has its own stark, storm-chased beauty. Avoid February if possible — it’s often the wettest, most oppressive month. The sweet spot? The shoulder months of April or October, where you might still catch a lower rate but the skies are mostly clear.