Hawaii 2.0 ...
Day One: Uncle Billy's Kona Bay Hotel
Our first glimpse of Hawaii came as we landed in Maui at sunset. As soon as we stepped off the plane, we were enveloped in warm, super-humid air. It may have been just a concrete airport, but the air and the rustling palms were tantalizing morsels of what was soon to come. We were anxious to get on with the vacation part but the layover was unavoidable. We passed the time snacking on nachos and French fries in an airport cafe. Kelly and Joshua drained a couple of beers. Our second flight was mercifully short: about eight minutes after being told that we could turn on electronic devices, we were asked to turn them off again. Our plane touched down in Kona and we de-planed back out into that warm air. The whole airport was open. It was baffling to be outside in the night air, and feel suffocated because we were wearing long sleeves and pants.
We split into two groups: Erin and I waited for the bags to arrive, while Kelly and Joshua picked up the rental car. Our bags came exceptionally quickly, and we lugged them over to a spot by the road. It was rather entertaining to watch pedestrians and drivers alike get yelled at by a particularly crabby security guard; "Stupid ass!" he called one lollygagging dude. Erin and I agreed that it was not very laidback of him. Hawaiians are supposed to be mellow. Then again airport security is a supremely sucky job.
Kelly and Joshua drove up in our adorable Chevy Hhr. It was similar to a PT cruiser, but slightly boxier. It had lots of head room which was handy for Joshua, and there was plenty of space for all our luggage. Ahh yeah. As we drove toward Kona, Kelly commented that he wished we were going directly to the Nintendo house, rather than a motel. At the time, Joshua and I agreed, but in truth we had no freakin' idea what we were talking about - neither of us could really imagine the splendor that was in store for us.
In the meantime, we drove through the sweet, touristy, sleepy town of Kona and arrived at our glamorous destination: Uncle Billy's Kona Bay Hotel! As Kelly checked us in at the outside lobby, we noticed a mongoose lurking around the deck. Suspicious. But when we entered our room, it wasn't so bad. Smelled a little bit like chlorine, decorated on the hellishly ugly side, with a ghetto toilet like one you'd find in a public school restroom. But it was clean, bug-free, and had plenty of space for the four of us. Through our deck doors, we could hear exuberant karaoke from a nearby bar. We changed into summertime clothes and set out to find some real food. At 9:15p.m. on a Thursday, many places were already closed, as we quickly discovered. But just down the street, Pancho and Lefty's beckoned. We had some very tasty Mexican food: Kelly - Mexican pizza; Erin - chicken quesadilla; Joshua - fish taco; Emily - Ceviche. It was the first of many, many delicious fish experiences. Ono was the fresh catch: meaty, flavorful, juicy-licious. By the time we finished, we were practically asleep on our feet. Thankfully, the nearby music had ceased by the time we climbed into bed.
Day Two: Paradisible
Joshua and I awoke early, still on Seattle (and Boeing) time. We said good morning to Erin as she stirred, then slipped out to explore. The birds were singing and it was already very warm, although there were some hazy clouds in the sky. We wandered across the street and through a public park, crossing a lawn scattered with fallen coconuts and palm fronds. The turquoise ocean was beckoning us. We tried to ignore the massive cruise ship docked not far from the harbor. Other than that the view of the horizon was unmarred. Joshua and I slipped and slid in our chacos across the wet lava rocks. Among the tidepools were spiny sea urchins and scrabbling black crabs. We explored for a while, dipping our feet in the warm surf.
As the sun rose a little higher, we strolled down the sidewalk and found our way to Lava Java. Several people were already sipping coffee and reading the paper, although it was barely 7 a.m. (the cafes we'd passed earlier didn't even open until 9). We sat outside and dined on coffee and a gigantic, freshly-baked mango-cinnamon muffin. Sparrows hopped around and fluttered up to eat crumbs from our fingertips. We got ahold of Erin and K.P. by cell phone, and they joined us, along with an oat bran and a coconut vanilla muffin. The Kona coffee was amazing.
We still had some time to kill before we could take possession of Hale Pueo. Kelly napped while Erin, Joshua and I explored Kona. We wandered through just about every little shop in the area. Some were cute, some were arty, some were silly. Some held very beautiful jewelry, which all three of us admired. Most were kitschy but what did we care? We were in Hawaii. The air smelled like plumerias and felt like silk. Birds sang, palm trees rustled. It was, in a word, paradisible (to paraphrase Erin Simmonds and sisters). Joshua also managed to find some practical items: a straw hat, flip-flops, big rockin' sunglasses, and a lovely blue sarong.
We visited Hawaii's oldest church (1820), a pretty building made of what seemed to be lava rock, and full of lovely woodworking on the inside. We peeked at the restored royal palace, but decided to skip it when we discovered the $6 entrance fee. Nearby was a much more interesting (and free) tourist attraction: a ginormous banyan tree. It appeared to be about seven trees in one, all drapey and viney. The canopy was all a-squawk with birds. Crazy.
Kelly met up with us for a trip to the farmer's market, another overwhelming sensory experience: colorful clothes, smooth carved wooden bowls, glittery trinkets, fragrant flowers, and the fruit-the fruit! We were bombarded with samples from a very helpful saleslady: she sliced into pineapple and mango and papaya (too smushy and perfumy for Erin and I) and peeled open apple bananas and lychees. A particular kind of white pineapple was absolutely divine. We were sold; we bought enough fruit for the whole household.
Finally it was time to head for the Kohala coast. The landscape, as Kelly had warned, was nothing but blocky, blackish-brown lava rocks, with some scrubby yellow brush here and there. Along the highway, tourists had spelled out messages with white coral ("Kevin was here" "Jesus loves you") and locals had set out memorials, presumably to highway fatalities.
We decided on a little shopping center in Waikoloa for lunch. After perusing a few menus, we settled on a café, and had more tasty Ono (this time in the form of fish sammiches) and a unique watermelon gazpacho. Then finally FINALLY it was time to check in at the Mauna Lani. We had many a joke about just staying in Uncle Billy's again. But really that wouldn't be funny. At all.
Just checking in at the main building, Joshua and I began to understand what was in store for us. The place was luxurious, spacious, and refreshingly air-conditioned. Kelly got the keys and the code to the driveway gate. And then... and then... Hale Pueo.
Erin and Kelly joyously led us on a tour of what was, to them, a familiar place: the incredible $20,000,000 splendor that is Pueo house. Joshua and I were stunned, overwhelmed. The place literally made our jaws drop; in spite of photos and descriptions and our wildest dreams, we could not have imagined that house. Endless sprawling luxury: polished granite, plush carpets, glass walls that could be pushed back to open the whole house to the balmy air. Huge roomy kitchen with corian countertops, a separate ice maker, big island with a gas range, two ovens, a drawerful of spices, about a hundred drawers and shelves of every tool you might want, and-conveniently-some leftover booze from previous tenants. And it just went on and on: formal dining room with glass table; 2 patios with 2 gas grills; pool and hot tub; immaculate golf-course grass lawn; the sound of palms rustling and waves gently breaking on the beach just below the house. Suites with king beds, deep tubs with massive showerheads, sunken "living rooms", and lanais. Throughout the house were fresh orchids, birds-of-paradise, lilies, and palms. Even the laundry room was sparkling clean, sweet-smelling, and seemed like a lovely place to live.
When we toured the little beach, Joshua couldn't resist jumping in for a swim; Erin and I just stuck our feet in. warm, gentle, clear aqua waves. Soft white sand. Paradisible...
The next order of business was to enjoy the pool. We discovered a new friend: the inflatable killer whale. It was really the best pool toy ever, though at the time we perhaps didn't realize the extent of the influence it would have on our vacation.
We splashed around and tried to determine exactly how to balance on the blow-up whale (not an easy task). Shortly, a woman appeared in the yard of neighboring Honu House. She came over to visit with a bottle of champagne in hand, introduced herself as Marla, and offered us some swigs of bubbly. We chatted for awhile, and she sadly explained that it was she and her group's last night in Hawaii. We tried not to gloat too much about the fact that it was our FIRST night. Yep, pretty cool. She offered us their remaining liquor, but made us promise to come and collect it that evening. We gladly agreed, took a few more drinks of her champagne, and then she headed back to her house.
A short time later, Bill and Andrea arrived. Erin and I were still afloat in the pool. Joshua and I had met the couple briefly, but we re-acquainted ourselves. Although he and I had only just made friends with the house ourselves, we proudly proclaimed how awesome it was to the awestruck Bill and Andrea. Kelly was eagerly leading them on the grand tour.
After they'd had a little time to unpack and settle in, we all got down to business: Costco. It was time to do some serious stocking up on groceries. It was a little tricky determining what to purchase, since Joshua and I ate fish but no other meat, Joshua didn't eat shellfish, and Bill and Andrea were not fish fans. It worked out surprisingly well, however. At the Kona Costco, Bill proclaimed that he never cooks, but offered to make fajitas from a package of pre-sliced chicken breast. We stocked up on basics (Doritos, "cocktail peps", chocolate-covered macadamia nuts) and Kelly and Bill also found some nice shirts. Oh, and gallons upon gallons of alcohol. By the time we left the store, the sun had set. Bill and Andrea grabbed some dinner at Costco, but Joshua and I had gotten some divine Opa ("moonfish") to make for the evening. Back at the house, Kelly worked on firing up the grill. Joshua barbecued one of the fish fillets, while I pan-fried the other. Both were amazing simply because opa is the best fish ever. Smooth, tender, melt-in-your mouth, yet still with a full savory flavor. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. (note: I have yet to find this fish in Seattle, except at fancy restaurants. This is a real problem)
But the best part was eating it poolside, by the light of tiki torches, as Bill struggled valiantly to mount the whale. DJ Kelly pumped some music for us, and mixed some drinks. Horseplay and hanky panky in the pool was a given, as was recording the action in digital splendor. We made a tipsy visit to Honu House, and made friends with the folks there (real adults, probably not a one under the age of 39, but very nice all the same). One lady was sandwiched between two air mattresses in the hot tub, which was curious. We toured Honu house and determined that it had a superior yard/view, but ours had a much nicer kitchen, was more conducive to socializing between suites and was basically better in every way. Pueo House!!!
Our buddies followed us back to our house, with their much appreciated donations of liquor (and a whole bag of frozen mahi mahi fillets!). The music got louder and we all got drunker. Bill created a fabulous new drink: bloody mary + teriyaki sauce. It was tastefully dubbed "the Bloody Yoko." The evening finally wound down as we sank into the super-hot hot tub. It was too hot to stay in for long, so Joshua and I lounged on the outer rim, gazing up at the giant yellow moon. One by one, we slipped off to our suites for bedtime, sleepy but exhilarated by the fact that we had many more nights to enjoy...
Day Three: the gang's all here
I personally awoke just a bit hungover, but nothing that a cup of coffee couldn't cure. Joshua and I were a bit behind everyone in the morning routine; by the time we hit the beach for some snorkeling, some of the others had moved on to sunbathing. The water was so inviting, and before I was even fully swimming (that is, my feet could still touch the bottom) I could see fish. And suddenly they were everywhere, among the rocks and coral in their turquoise world. Rainbow, striped, bright yellow, black and neon blue. Some could fit in my palm; others seemed bigger than my head. Darting among the rocks, bobbing in the current, nibbling on coral. The skies above were overcast, which muted the colors a bit, but the underwater scenery was still incredible.
Back on dry land, Joshua and I lounged and read from the illustrious publication "Heeb." Before long, the heat prompted us to drift back up to the house. Everyone else had created and devoured chicken salad and tuna salad sandwiches. With some tuna and leftover opa, Joshua and I created some tasty salads. Andrea and Erin had retrieved the pink and yellow air mattresses from Hale Honu, and were floating around the pool, soaking up the sunshine (in spite of the hazy skies, there was plenty of warmth, brightness and UV rays). Joshua, Kelly, and Bill experimented with the inflatable whale, attempting to remain mounted while jumping into the pool. It was hilarious, but they actually became quite successful as time went on. I never mastered the airborne mount, but could bob around the pool on whaleback for quite a long time.
The golden moments passed along lazily, until the exciting news that Jerry and Nick were arriving stirred us into semi-action. When they sauntered into the backyard, we gave them a cheerful welcome. They were introduced to Bill and Andrea, and given the grand tour of Hale Pueo. Nick shocked us all with the revelation that he never wears shorts, and in fact only owns one pair. We convinced him if there was ever a time and place to wear shorts, it was here and now (he changed into them).
As the sun began to dip toward the western horizon, we continued our poolside lounging, chatting, and messing around. For some of us (I won't name names) cocktail hour had commenced at 10 a.m.; for others, the afternoon signaled the beginning of drinky time. Jerry and Nick were duly impressed by the supply of liquor we had laid in.
Our friend from Hale Honu, Marla, had tipped us off to the fact that sea turtles bedded down on the beach at sunset, and paddled back out to sea at dawn. Although the sun hadn't quite sank, Joshua, Erin, Jerry, Nick, and I headed down to the beach to investigate. Sure enough, a great big Honu had made himself a little sleeping spot right where we had earlier waded into the water to snorkel. Three orange cones had been placed around him, so as to discourage humans from getting too close. He looked quite heavy and tired as he lay, motionless, on the sand. His big dark greenish shell looked just like a rock, but his stripey head and long leathery flippers gave him away. His eyes were open and he seemed to regard us with weary seriousness. I was reminded of Morla, the Ancient One, the giant turtle from the movie Neverending Story.
We left him and continued along the water to the little cement jetty just to the northeast of the beach. That was the spot where Marla had described seeing turtles. Sure enough, there were a couple more Honus bobbing in the water, seemingly jockeying for position along the rocky wall. It was hard to decide what should be given more of our attention: the swimming turtles or, to the west, the fantastic sunset coloring the sky a vivid pinky-gold and creating amazing silhouettes of the coconut palms.
Also in the water was a large puffer-fish, fat and spotted, but not puffed out because apparently he was not feeling threatened, in spite of the huge turtles jostling around. Still, he looked a bit ominous as he swam near the surface of the water.
Once the sun had set, darkness enveloped us quickly. Yet there was absolutely no chill in the air; the change in temperature was so slight. It was completely warm, balmy, and comfortable; the breeze was still welcome. To remember that it was autumn was nearly impossible.
Back at Hale Pueo, we discovered that the music was pumping ("riding dirty"-don't know if that's the name of the song, but it plays in my head like a glorious Hawaiian lullaby) and the grill was hot. Steak was on the menu for the meat-eaters, and Joshua and I used the mahi mahi fillets to make fish tacos. Yum! Earlier in the day I had balked at another fish meal, in spite of my earlier determination to eat fish three nonstop on this trip. But now that it was suppertime, suddenly fish tacos sounded divine.
We made a dent in our liquor supply, enjoying a variety of well-iced cocktails. The night brought yet another round of whale-riding. I believe this is the night our whale friend was dubbed "Orky." We devised an elaborate train system, with me astride Orky and providing the propulsion, Kelly (on an air mattress) holding onto Orky, and Erin holding onto Kelly. It was quite magical, until Bill singlehandedly swamped our train and stole Orky out from under me. Beyotch.
Everyone crashed a little earlier on this night. After all, a day of snorkeling, lying on the beach, and lying by the pool can wear a person out.
Day Four: Get your sexy on
When our alarm went off around 5:15 a.m., Joshua and I briefly reconsidered the benefits of watching the sea turtles slip into the ocean at dawn. But I figured, when was the next time we'd have this chance? (of course secretly we all harbored a hope that we would find ourselves in Pueo house again someday, but it couldn't be counted on). We sneaked quietly into the warm darkness. Joshua pointed out that sunrise wouldn't be until at least 6:30 because of the mountains to our east. Oh well. It would be a nice leisurely dark morning.
Our turtle friend was still in his sand bed on the beach. As the sky slowly lightened, he stirred, lifted his head, blinked slowly. He puffed his throat out dramatically but made no audible sound. Joshua brazenly moved one of the protective orange traffic cones in order to get a photograph. Our turtle slowly, slowly dragged himself forward an inch or two with his big grooved flippers. He rested for several minutes, then exerted himself to move again. By the time the sun crested the hazy purple-green hills in a brilliant white-gold flash, our Honu had made it to the shore. Gentle waves lapped at his heavy sides, and after a few more pulls of the flipper, he was bobbing in the ocean. Water allowed him to be quick and majestic once more, and he disappeared quickly into the blue.
A quick check at the jetty: no more turtles. Marla was right; with the sunrise they all swam away. We returned to the house for a light breakfast on the living room patio (the smaller one with rocking deck chairs and a glass coffee table and glorious ocean breezes and the sound of birds chirping-but no grill).
We headed back to the beach, where I read while Joshua snorkeled. When we returned to the house, only Andrea was up and about. Before long the rest of the crew emerged and we (Andrea, Erin, Jerry and I) made a magnificent batch of Belgian waffles. There was a strawberry puree to go with it, which doubled as a base for some tasty drinkies later in the day.
Our trip to the petroglyphs got off to a rocky start. First off, one of the complimentary mountain bikes was missing an essential piece (a gasket?) and Nick and Joshua spent awhile trying to jerry-rig it before Kelly borrowed another bike from the still-vacant Honu House. Poor Erin and Andrea slowly baked in the car while we waited. The next hitch was my own fault: I braked too hard and flipped forward over the handlebars. I was far more embarrassed than hurt, although I did gash out a couple of chunks of ankle flesh. Waah.
Still, it was awesome to glide along the super-smooth, flat black asphalt. The sun was merciless but on a bike one creates a nice breeze for oneself. The petroglyph path wound through a twisty, rocky, kind of eery forest of seemingly dead, dry gnarled trees. The dust coated our feet as we trudged along. We spotted a mongoose and some cracked rocks that appeared to be petroglyphs but it was hard to say. We whined a lot about being hot and sweaty. We thought we would meet up with Erin, Andrea, and Bill (who had driven) but as it turned out, we turned back and then met them coming toward us. When we did make it to the petroglyph field, it was certainly striking. Mysterious, endless repetitions of stick figures scattered over a vast lava flow. Was it a ritual? A census? Art? We couldn't say.
The car was parked back at the entrance to the trail, and in the adjacent park was a shower for our incredibly dirty feet. I showed off my bloody ankle to Erin and got lots of sympathy. I used that as my excuse to catch a ride home in the Dodge Magnum. Bill took over my bicyclette.
It was a much cooler ride in the car. Also there was fabulous music pumping. I heard a distinctly homosexual and synthesized voice singing, "see these shackles baby I'm your slave... I'll let you whip me if I misbehave." Erin and Andrea informed me that it was Justin Timberlake (definitely gay) and the song, as the chorus attested, was "Get Your Sexy On." My new favorite song.
Back at Hale Pueo, it was time for bathing suits. Though I don't remember exactly, Bill most likely commenced with a dip in the pool (he had already established a mission to swim 10 laps a day-or was it 20?). Erin and I geared up for a quick snorkel. Because the sun was fully out this day, the colors under the sea were much brighter and more vivid. We also were terrorized by a huge, menacing eel that undulated along the ocean floor. I thought eels were supposed to shy away from humans, but this one was clearly stalking me, so I swam away.
K.P. had grilled burgers for lunch, and Joshua and I had more fish 'n' salad. Then "the ladies" (Andrea, Erin, Jerry and Nick) went shopping while Joshua and I napped, and Bill and Kelly drank. Good times. We all came together for the requisite poolside lounging. By now mounting Orky from the side of the pool was old hat (though I admit I never mastered the skill). The new challenge involved spinning jumps and/or making a basket mid-jump. Seriously, Orky-riding should be a new Olympic event.
Joshua, Jerry, Nick and I decided to head into Kona for a little shopping, and the gang agreed to meet up with us later for a night out. We barely made it to the farmer's market, but had enough time to stock up on avocados, pineapple, apple bananas, and gorgeous flowers. We browsed through a few shops, and then had some triumphant times in the video arcade (Jerry was in heaven). Our combined forces at SkeeBall and Whack-a-Mole were rewarded with 78 tickets, enough for finger paints and erasers (which were destined to become a donation to Pueo House).
Joshua got the scoop on Kona's best sushi from a gal at a surf-wear shop. As it turned out, she directed us to Kennichi's, a super-swanky joint started by a Hawaiian sushi chef who also has a restaurant in Austin (and a couple other places). The point is, I read in "People" several weeks after our vacation that a celebrity had dined at the Austin Kennichi. So it is definitively swank. But I think the Kona one was better: amazing fresh sashimi, grilled Ono and Ahi, foamed lemon butter (Jerry's plate), delicate mushrooms, rolls with pineapple and asparagus and edamame paper, real wasabi. For dessert, molten chocolate cake and fried tempura ice cream. Divine.
We tried to find some semblance of nightlife in Kona, but at 8:30 p.m. on a Sunday little was going on. K.P. & the crew joined us at LuLu's, which offered giant Elvis tiki statues but not a swinging club scene. Our waitress said that the next door joint "Ocean's" sometimes had live music, but not this night. She asked, much to our delight, if we were from Hilo. After drinks and snacks, we realized that our night on the town really couldn't compare to Pueo House. We headed home. The next morning we were all getting up early for some volcano exploration, so we reluctantly went to bed.
