When I boarded the flight to Australia’s most remote island paradise, I was dreaming of days spent basking under blue skies and swimming in crystal-clear waters. What I got instead was an unforgettable adventure – just not the one I’d envisioned.
The untouched piece of paradise in question is the Cocos Keeling Islands. Located 2,750 km northwest of Perth (a five-hour flight), this external Australian territory is one of the most isolated places in the country. I felt truly privileged to be travelling there, one of just 144 visitors allowed on the islands at any given time.
Maintaining this capacity limit is actually pretty easy, given there are only two flights each week coming from Perth. As passengers soar over the island, they’re treated to one of the most breathtaking aerial views of Australia. Below, the ring-like atoll – the only coral atoll in Australia, made up of 27 islands – sparkles like an emerald jewel in the vast Indian Ocean. The surrounding lagoons glisten in shades of aquamarine and deep blue, leaving you eagerly anticipating your first swim.
Sadly, our journey wasn’t quite so scenic. Grey clouds filled the sky, and strong winds greeted us on the tarmac – a clear sign of the wild cyclonic weather ahead. For context, Weatherzone had already flagged a tropical low brewing near the islands as Australia’s first potential tropical cyclone of the 2024-25 season.
Don’t let the wild weather phase you, though. The islands typically enjoys a tropical climate, with warm temperatures year-round, hovering between 25 to 30 degrees Celsius. My experience was a rare exception, with many locals saying they hadn’t experienced so much rain for so many consecutive days in more than a decade.
I won’t deny that the weather put a serious damper on my trip – so much so that nearly all of our planned activities were cancelled, and I could barely step outside my hotel room without getting drenched. But amidst the storm, I discovered a side of Australia I’d never experienced before: the incredible kindness and hospitality of the people who call the islands home.
Of the 27 islands in the Cocos, only two are inhabited – West Island and Home Island – with about 600 residents, including around 450 Cocos Malay. Many of these friendly locals were there to greet us at the airport and help us get settled into our accommodation. We were told that hardly anyone locks their houses on the islands and to “just knock on anyone’s door if you need anything”. The trust here runs so deep that locals also leave their car keys in the ignition of their unlocked vehicles, just in case of an emergency.
After settling into my bungalow, I dashed to the supermarket to grab some supplies. Since the Cocos Keeling Islands only receive fresh food and drink shipments every two weeks, the shelves were almost bare – to the point that there wasn’t even any milk left. That’s when the islands' sense of community first came into play. One of West Island's beloved local café owners kindly gave me a precious carton of almond milk (mine had sadly been confiscated at the international airport, thanks to my forgetfulness about the 100mL rule). It might not sound like much, but with the high freight costs, that one-litre carton is worth about $15.
This warm generosity was a constant throughout my five-night stay on the islands. One local braved the rain to take us on a bike ride through the rainforest (we were that desperate to get outside), a tour operator from one of our cancelled trips joined us for dinner and instead treated us to a fascinating history lesson about the islands, and an artist opened her gallery after hours to offer a rainy day activity. On Home Island, a gorgeous Cocos Malay family even invited us into their home to make curry puffs, giving us a place to stay dry and warm while the wild rain raged outside.
The kindness of the local community peaked on the final night of my stay in the Cocos Keeling Islands when my flight was cancelled, leaving 108 visitors stranded. The locals rallied together, opening their homes to those who couldn’t secure accommodation for the night (with most places already booked out by incoming passengers). Sleeping in a stranger’s spare room might not sound like the safest option, but on Cocos, it somehow felt just right.
I can’t wait to return to the Cocos Keeling Islands and experience them the way I’d always imagined. But now I realise it's not the sun-drenched beaches or crystal-clear waters that truly define a destination – it’s the people you meet and the stories they leave with you.
Stay in the loop: sign up for our free Time Out Australia newsletter for more news, travel inspo and activity ideas, straight to your inbox.