Hawai'i 04: Sun!

Wednesday, March 18th

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We woke to a fabulously sunny day. I decided then to stop checking Yahoo weather, as apparently no one but the locals has any idea what the weather is going to be (I'd seen it range 15 degrees on reports in four hours). I ate an avocado for breakfast and then, well and then realized that perhaps one *can* have too many avocados, something I'd never before been able to test. We got our beach stuff together and headed up the coast to Makalawena Beach, purported to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the islands and one I'd been drooling over since our last visit (when it was too far to drive to). We headed north into serious lava country. The road here is cut through black lava hills, dotted all over with names and pictures made out of white coral. It's a stark landscape, and it's hard to believe that there are beautiful, sandy beaches tucked into the hills.

We parked by the highway, and walked in along a bumpy lava track. It was hot and dry, and we were surrounded by tall grasses and what looked like thorn trees. We could hear goats in the grass, and occasionally a 4-wheel drive vehicle would pass us, filled with people and coolers (but not *too* many, it's still a fairly secluded beach). After about 40 minutes we made it to the beach proper, first seeing the water where the black lava and the white coral made up a patchwork effect. There were trees by the water, and sea turtles lolling in the sunshine. Dave found a young tree that had grown out of the roots of a dead tree and took some beautiful photos. We climbed over a little hill and there was...paradise! White sugary sand, aquamarine water in soft waves, heaven. We spent about 3 hours there, playing in the waves and laughing at our luck, and finally decided we should probably not spend *all* day in the sun, ha ha. We stopped by some mostly fresh water pools in the lava rock to rinse off, then headed back to the car. Slowly, as we walked, we realized that perhaps we had not applied sunscreen as assiduously as we might have done. And perhaps we should have used 50 spf, rather than 30 on our pale, pale Portland skin. By the time we reached the car, we were rapidly turning into lobsters, and feeling extremely lame.

We stopped by another beach, closer to town, to meet up with Shannon, Alex, Erin and Erin's new daughter, Malaya. We didn't want to risk too much more sun, and had dinner in town with them, eating enormous burgers and feeling increasingly like we were on fire. Dave grabbed some aloe lotion before the stores closed (Hawai'i closes down early), and after making arrangements to go to Volcano with Shannon and Alex the next day (in the cloudy, wet part of the island), we fled home and slathered ourselves with aloe but too late, too late!

Hawai'i 03: In which we are sad, forget it's St. Patrick's Day, and finally decide we can have fun even in the rain.

Tuesday, March 17th

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My understanding is that the dawn chorus only lasts a little while. Not hours and hours. In Hawai'i, though, there are a LOT of roosters, and apparently the dawn chorus starts around 12:30 a.m., really picks up steam around 4, and goes on well past 11. It was LOUD. Also, Hawai'ians tend to be early to bed, early to rise, so people, dog, and traffic noise started early too. Luckily we had earplugs, and luckier still, Hawai'i is 3 hours behind Portland, so we woke up around 7:30 anyway. To rain. And fog. Lots of rain and fog. No sign of the ocean blue at all. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't what we'd been hoping for, and we tried not to feel glum as we ate our breakfast of toast, eggs, and fresh pineapple.

We'd really meant this trip to be beach-centric, and waffled around a bit trying to figure out what to do in the rain. I'd noted that there was an Ethnobotanical Garden in Captain Cook, so we headed there, as gardens are lovely in the wet. It was a very interesting place--apparently the native Hawai'ians on most islands developed a method of gardening in a triangle (called ahupua‘a), where two sides of the triangle are bounded by streams. Because of the huge variety of climates that show up in a relatively small area, they staggered the crops down the hillsides to correspond with the different climates, and so got a huge number of plants to grow well. The big island, however, is extremely porous, due to the fact that so much of it was fairly recently created by lava flows, and they don't have a lot of streams. They grew their gardens in large rectangles, instead, and the museum had recreated some of these, and also had some original gardens they were preserving.

At first, it seemed like a small place, but paths meandered up and down, and it took us over an hour to see everything. The signage was generally good, with lots of interesting facts such as "A'wa (kava) root was used to stupefy sharks in the royal sport of shark hunting", and "Hapu'u pulu is named for the soft fuzz or pulu that was used for dressing wounds and embalming bodies." I saw a lot of plants that I hadn't before--Kava, for instance, is much crazier than I'd imagined, though there weren't that many plants currently blooming. The previous trip we'd gone to the Hawai'ian Tropical Botanical garden near Hilo, which is very different and filled with gingers and palm trees but also (that year) mosquitos. I didn't mind seeing a few less flowers and going without the DEET this time. We found fallen breadfruits, which I was later unable to find in the markets, and were told by locals that we could have just grabbed them. Oh well!

For lunch I did an avocado comparison--they were all excellent, but my favorite by far was the round "Ono" avocado. Dave pointed out that "ono" just means "good", so that couldn't be it's name. I never did find out what it was called, and after looking at the chart at the SKFS, suspected it was one of the evocatively named "N 379" or "Mex 14" types. After tasting each one liberally, we still had enough to eat avocados for almost every meal for the next 5 days. I am not exaggerating, these are BIG avocados!

We decided to head down to Ali'i Drive in Kailua-Kona. Ali'i is the main drag, with all the ridiculous tourist and bad-art stores, but also several ice cream places. I'm not normally much into ice cream, but I like it in Hawai'i. Of course, the real thing you should get in the islands is shave ice, and even better, conglomerations of ice cream, shave ice, and sweet bean paste, but we couldn't find a place in Kona that served that. We did plan to get an ice cream/shave ice combo, but after seeing a small girl come out with a shave ice cone that actually looked larger than her head, we ended up just getting ice cream, but it was wonderful ice cream. I got caramel-macadamia nut, and Dave got a combo of "Saddle Road (coffee ice cream with nuts and marshmallow)" and "Volcano (banana ice cream with chocolate and strawberry)". We ate the cones and stared at the bay and wished it would stop raining. We went to get coffee and had some more ice cream (fresh ginger) and still it was pretty damp. We headed back towards Captain Cook and stopped by a local thrift store, where I scored two Agatha Christie mysteries I hadn't read, and then stopped at a store that sold fine ukeleles. Dave bought one, and it turned out to have a beautiful sound.

Back at home, I realized that it was a bit silly to be downcast about the weather. After all, we're from Portland, where you do whatever you have to in the rain, and this wasn't even Portland, so the water and air are much warmer. We decided to go down to 2 Steps, a favorite snorkeling place, and try the water. 2 Steps is near the Place of Refuge, and is basically a flat (ish) surface of lava rock that has a sharp dropoff into a shallow bay filled with fish. It was a little choppy, but Dave dived in and swam a bit. I did not because I'm less comfortable navigating when I can't see well in the water, but I splashed around the beach near the boat dock and managed to terrify a sea turtle, much to my chagrin. We watched local teams take out canoes, and generally felt a lot better about things.

We stopped by a fish stand that the caretaker had recommended, and brought home a bunch of cold salads to go with our avocados: ocean salad, shoyu ahi, salmon lomi, and kim chee. We spent a long time in the hot tub in the rain, talking and enjoying the breeze, and met one of the local cats--a giant tabby who was very friendly and clearly well-fed. When a neighbor's dog started barking, she eagerly climbed towards the noise, making me wonder what she did, in fact, eat (the dogs around here tend to be small). I was also reminded of Mark Twain's comment that in 1860s Oahu there were about 3 cats per head, "....and all of them sleek, fat, lazy and fast asleep."

Our friends Alex and Shannon, who had arrived that evening, assured us that Erin (Alex's sister) had said it would be sunny the next day. I held that thought as I listened to the tropical downpour on the tin roof, and eventually fell asleep.

Hawai'i 02: In which we arrive, eat a lot, and consider our options.

Monday, March 16th

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We got up VERY EARLY (4:30), fed the cats and bustled into the taxi. The flight to Seattle was easy, the flight to Hawai'i was as bumpy as anything. They don't feed you anymore for free on airplanes, apparently, or show movies, but luckily we had lots of books and Dave's computer to watch Battle Star Galactica on (we are currently making our way through the entire series). Flying into Kona we saw turquoise water, and the whole plane went "ooooh!". We walked off the plane into warmth and sun. "This isn't Portland," I said to Dave. He smiled a big smile. We picked up our stuff, and asked the lady at the rental car place where we could get a good plate lunch. Four miles down the road we stopped at the Pine Tree cafe, and got a large Loco Moco (fried eggs on hamburger and sticky rice, covered in gravy) and Saimin (Chinese noodles in Japanese broth) to share, taking away hefty leftovers.

We meandered down the coast in our Dodge Caliber (Dave noted that now we know where the unpopular cars go--rental car places), readjusting to manual locks and windows. The Kona coast is lush but on the dry side of the island, so there's a lot of greenery but it's also warm and slightly humid. We couldn't check into our room until 3, so we admired views and drove down to Kealakekua Bay, where Captain Cook was killed, to check things out. We really wanted to see the monument near the spot where he was killed. We'd both read Blue Latitudes, a book about the travels of Cook (highly recommended), and had missed this the last time we were on the island. There was conflicting information as to whether kayaking across the bay or walking down to the monument was recommended. The area around the monument is considered sacred ground, so you can't drive there, and it's a long swim, and there's not an obvious kayak put-in. There are folks renting kayaks, though, and the bay looked a lot smaller than I'd expected, so at least there was an option.

We drove to our bungalow, at a place called "The Banana Patch", just north of the small town of Captain Cook. We found a private drive into a long alley surrounded by a lush garden. Each bungalow is very private, tucked away and out of view (though not out of hearing, we found out) of the other bungalows and neighbors. We immediately bumped into the caretaker, a character we think goes by the name of "B", who was a bit like a mix between a hippie sea captain and Iggy Pop. He said hi, and immediately started giving us directions to several places to see the sunset and recommendations as to where to eat. This is always welcome, though the directions were so long there was no way we were going to remember them, and his comment that he would "come take us to" one of the places to eat set off alarm bells for me. I'm happy to have advice on where to go and what to eat, but the point of the trip was NOT to have to do anything we didn't feel like, and having this dude drop by on us mid-week fell into that category. I assumed he'd forget all about it, and he eventually took off and we walked up the winding staircase to our door, surrounded by banana, papaya, and coffee plants.

I'd been a little bit worried because of our last experience in a treehouse. The last time had been in an actual treehouse, out on the old lava flows in Puna, in Southern Hawai'i. It was gorgeous, but the folks who built it hadn't made sure that the place was consistently screened and we were completely eaten by mosquitos. The Banana Patch treehouse is really nicely done--no actual window panes (amazing to be in a place that doesn't need them), but plenty of screens and it was delicious to be able to feel the breezes yet not get eaten alive. There was also a small kitchen (we cooked at home a lot), comfy chairs, a very comfy bed, and a small private hot tub on the back deck.

I was very excited about the produce in Hawai'i. When we'd visited 10 years ago, the local foods movement hadn't really kicked in, and there wasn't much around, food-wise, that was very accessible. Now there are plenty of farmer's markets and restaurants featuring local food, which is a wonderful mix of Asian, Hawai'ian, American, and even Portuguese. Good stuff. I'd heard that there were 40 different kinds of avocado in the islands, and was eager to start trying them. I picked up a couple of Haas avocados on our way in, but then we had time to check out the South Kona Fruit Stand before dinner. It's a wonderful permanent stand (highly recommended if you're in town), and they had, oh, only about 6 kinds of avocados that day. Beth, the owner, verified that there are about 30 varieties of avocados on the big island alone. We ended up with four kinds--2 almost as big as my head, and Dave got an extremely juicy-looking pineapple. Sadly, they weren't all ripe, so I ended up making do with the Haas avocados for dinner (they still made great guacamole).

We spent the evening hanging out in the hot tub and drinking beers, reading Mark Twain (I'm finishing his Hawai'ian diary), and listening to the neighbors.

Hawai'i 01: in which we once again run away from Portland in Springtime

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Dave and my first trip together was in March of 1999, to Maui. Back then we went primarily to escape the gloom that had descended on Portland the previous October. We stayed with friends in Lahaina, then camped in Hana, and generally had a great time. Five years later we met friends in Kauai for a week, staying at massively luxurious lodgings provided by Mrs. Lipski, celebrated my 35th birthday there, and then spent a week on Hawai'i (the big island). I'd never been there before, and booked us into places that were interesting (a treehouse in the wilds of Puna, a Macadamia Nut farm near the black sand beaches), but situated on the wet and windy side of the island. We saw lots of cool stuff, but I vowed that next time we came we'd stay on the sunny, warm Kona coast, as we are primarily beach people. This year we both have big birthdays again--Dave turns 35, I turn 40. We wanted to do something suitably celebratory, and found out we had *exactly* enough frequent flier miles to go to Hawai'i, and returning 10 years after our first trip seemed very appropriate. We cleaned the house, arranged with many wonderful friends to take care of the cats, and packed for a temperature I couldn't even remember, it being about 30 degrees warmer in Hawai'i than it had been in Portland since October.

Home

Yup. Just got home. Long day in a series of long days. Happy to be here--Happy Solstice, everyone!

Almost home!

(I actually wrote this last night--Wednesday night, but couldn't post until this morning)

So, the Golden Nugget was sort of a bust. Sort of. We drove through some fantastic rocky landscapes to get to Vegas and then it was...Vegas. Ick. Driving in the 105- to 110-degree heat, to see the dim outline of the city through a haze of whatever passes for air these days, just made me wonder what the heck I was thinking, planning a night here. Well, I was thinking "camping, camping, big bed/pool/shower!". The Golden Nugget has this crazy pool with a shark tank involved, and I had a mental image of Dave and I lazing about in the water, watching the fishes. I forgot about all the people, though. Bleah. And things take so long to do in Vegas (because of the people, mostly). We did get our room upgraded to a suite, but (we found out) downgraded from non-smoking (if such a thing exists in old Vegas hotels) to smoking. Or shall we say "smoke-infused". We walked in and hit a wall of stale cigarette stench, and I realized that all our stuff would smell like this for days (GREAT). The suite was cool from a roomy perspective--two rooms, two bathrooms (one with jacuzzi bath and one with a huge shower), tv, huge bed, closets, and telephones next to the toilets. Swank, but way smelly. I tried to burrow down so far into the bed that I couldn't smell the smoke anymore and wasn't able to--even the sheets stank. If we'd been there for two nights I would have complained, but it would have been my whole evening to make the change for one night, as the place was full.

The Shark Tank (tm, I'm sure) was interesting, though the big tank sticking up in the center of the swimming pool (and the multiple tiers which allow for a long water-slide tube through the shark tank) meant that most of the pool was shaded. It was weird being outside in 103-degree weather and being chilly. The sharks and other denizens of the Tank seemed pretty bored, though they are extremely beautiful. You can see through the shark tank to the pool (everything is circular), so it was sort of "silver fish, gold fish, blue fish, tourist, tourist, fish". We spent most of the evening lolling in the suite, trying to ignore the smell.

And then Dave came down with food poisoning.

MAN. Food poisoning, as Dave points out, sucks, food poisoning in Vegas when the plan is to get up early and drive through possibly 118-degree heat in Death Valley in order to get to the next night's rest really, really sucks.

We were able to get the car packed up. I located a Trader Joe's nearby (thank you, iphone) and we filled up with yogurt, water, ginger candy and other treats that might stay in Dave's tummy. Just before DV I took over driving, since Dave was getting very, very tired. Usually he drives, due to a tendency to car sickness, and because I hate driving. Also the idea of DV freaks me out. I can appreciate the beauty of desert areas, but it is not my climate. I spent small bits of my life in my early 20s around hot, dry places, with cars that tended to break down and/or didn't have air conditioning (usually and), and so I get a bit on edge thinking about situations with deserts and cars. It was gorgeous, though, and getting out at the visitor center the 108-degree heat mostly reminded me of Bakersfield, where my mom grew up (and which isn't all that far away from DV). Of course, Mom left Bakersfield as soon as she could, having grown up there before air-conditioning and plentiful swimming pools, and when we went to visit our grandparents as children, I don't actually remember doing anything besides swimming, except for the mandatory trip to JC Penneys to buy underwear and summer pajamas. DV then, did, oddly bring back vague memories of tuna sandwiches, cold buttermilk, and hours of splashing around.

In any case, I enjoyed the first part of the drive, but then we got into the really hot area (115), and then had to go up big mountains, where I remembered how I don't like driving up mountains, and then we started going down the other side of the mountains and I remembered how I especially hate driving down incredibly steep grades with drop-offs and we pulled over and Dave drove us to the bottom. I'm sorry, I'm just a wimp, and I hadn't realized how long it's been since I had to do serious driving because I drive so little in Portland. I wish I could see DV without having to drive. At the DV Visitor Center Dave picked up a pamphlet about how global warming is affecting national parks and it occurred to me that every NP I've been to (quite a few on our trip to Austin and on the way back) is designed to be driven through. Which can be nice, but it seems like it's time for a new way to see them. Hiking, horses and pack mules? Or, for instance, I would be very happy to have made the DV trip (and in fact the trip to and from Austin) on a train. Going through the Petrified Forest would have been great on a bike (people do that, but how much more fun if cars weren't allowed). Anyway, just sayin'.

Once off the mountains and out of the park I took over driving again, though Owens Valley (gorgeous) on the eastern side of the Sierras. Ah, California--my native land. We stopped for a burger--I had the burger, Dave had a rootbeer float (replacing precious fluids and sugars), and then we drove a short way to the Winnedumah Hotel (est. 1927). My cousin Dmitria recommended it and I can say it feels very like an oasis. Quiet, cool, with a nice owner (who offered us homemade chicken soup), interesting books, handmade quilts, and lovely old furniture. Aaaaaah! Now if only we can get Dave feeling good again! Tomorrow it's up 395 to Mono Lake and Yosemite, and then the next day on to Portland.

another mini trip update

Today we're in Moab, staying at Arches National Park. It's incredibly beautiful but also incredibly hot (98) and any shade is filled with bugs. I'd like to come back in October. Yesterday we enjoyed a lovely drive here from Santa Fe, and learned much about the various liquor laws in Colorado, New Mexico and Utah. We also drove the Devil's Highway (in my old atlas it's 666, now renumbered 491). It was actually quite pretty. Idyllic--somewhat like Switzerland with sage brush.

We're having a good time with Mike and Linda, tomorrow early we all depart--them back to Denver, us down to Vegas, where we're staying at the Gold Nugget (it was cheap! Plus they have shark tank now--yeep!). Hope to check in then. If not, we're then off through Death Valley to Independence, CA. Love to all!