For the first time in 23 years, we left the comfort of the contiguous Americas to travel off-shore, flinging ourselves thousands of kilometres into the middle of the Pacific Ocean to the balmy environs of Maui. It is an unsettling feeling to realize that one is on such a tiny speck of land in the immensity of the sea. Looking down from the aircraft, we realized that there was thousands of feet of water below us filled with all sorts of creatures, most of whom we would never meet! It was nice to finally see solid ground beneath our wings, and even nicer to feel those humid trade winds blowing over the sheen of sweat that immediately sprang upon our skins when the doors of the aircraft opened.
After our extensive experience in Mexico, it is strange to be be in a tropical locale where so much seems familiar. It started with renting a car and driving well-ordered highways to the strata-condo we had rented in the quaint (read: kitschy tourist trap) town of Lahaina. Liz and Hollis bridle at how the Hawaiian culture seems to be "overblown" as every leather-skinned, transplanted mainlander greets us with "aloha" and sends us on our way with a hearty "mahalo". That was balanced by the Hawaiian native overheard describing something as "mo bettah" and the mason who spontaneously flashed us the "hang loose" sign (thumb and pinky finger extended from a clenched fist) when we expressed our admiration for the lava rock wall he was building. Remy tried to embrace the aloha culture with a hearty lump of musubi for his first breakfast. This local gut bomb, consisting of a thick slab of spam marinated in sriracha and strapped to a brick of sticky rice with a generous strip of nori, is available in gas stations and grocery stores everywhere for a couple of bucks. It goes a long way to explaining the morphology of your average Hawaiian. A shout-out goes to Chad from work for this awesome piece of local inside cultural advice!
We rushed to the beach on our first day, and below is the obligatory Hawaiian Gothic portrait of Remy and Liz. Note that this is the last image you will see of two such white people, as Liz is already on her way to a beautiful golden hue while Remy is passing through the lobster-red phase that is required before his skin takes on a tan. The large black cliffs in the background were the launch point where all the boys threw themselves into the ocean like Hawaiian maidens being sacrificed in the cauldron of a volcano god. Or at least that is what it sounded like as each fell into the water below.
Bowen had discovered that he was on a "snow day" from online school, as a freakish snow storm belted Calgary and area. He took it hard, and really had to work at figuring out what to do with himself.
Being jet-lagged, we took advantage of our disordered sleep patterns and crammed a whole lot into our first full day on the island. After the beach, we drove up through every microclimate from Puerto Vallarta to Nunavut in a couple of hours, stopping off to visit a goat farm. Below is our kids looking as some other kids.
We continued on upward, driving the beautiful Haleakala highway to the summit of the volcanic mountain that is the source of this island. It was fascinating to watch the ambient temperature display on the rental car's dashboard steadily decline from 86 degrees Fahrenheit to a chilly 49. It was cold! But we did it in solidarity with the
poor suckers stalwart compatriots back home.
We were treated to a beautiful double sunset as the sun first sank into the bank of clouds covering the lower parts of the island, then again as it descended below the horizon and into the sea. Most tourists get talked into waking up at the ungodly hour of 3:00 AM to make the trek up the mountain in order to witness the sun
rise, but we felt "mo clevah" that we avoided the large crowds and were treated to this double passage of the sun at a far more civilized hour.
The next day, we continued as tourists in the true sense, spending hours in the car and burning gallons of gas as we drove the road to Hana. We were one in a long line of rented automobiles, stopping at various roadside turn-outs to appreciate what the rainy north shore of the island had to offer. We swam in the pool of a jungle waterfall, as the photo below will attest. It was really difficult for Remy and Liz to tread water like that!
The highway to Hana is one of the more incredible roads we have ever driven. It is single-lane in many places, usually where it crosses one of the 59 bridges on its 42 mile length from Paia to Hana. The coastline is beautiful, and the many walks through the jungle offer up some incredible flora.
Painted eucalyptus - the bark grows naturally in this array of different colours.
Big red flower. No big deal in the jungle, but a total thrill for pasty prairie dwellers like us!
The jury is still out on Hawaii. The true Hawaiian elements that we encounter are compelling, but the ridiculous food prices in the supermarket make us eager to get on with tropical second and third world experiences! That being said, the boys really enjoy the cable TV and we take the fact that everyone speaks our language for granted.
-Remy
