wednesday 1.16.08 (roatan, honduras)

Posted in western caribbean cruise on January 20th, 2008 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: beach, caribbean, central america, cruise, dancing, honduras, kayaking, ocean

Wednesday morning, we got to sleep in. We had gained an hour overnight, and our excursion didn’t leave til 11. I was too excited about being in Honduras, though (my first visit to Central America!), so I got up at 8, showered, put on my bathing suit and sarong, and sat out on the balcony, staring at the mountains off in the distance. We were going to Roatan, an island off the coast of Honduras, but you could see the mainland from the ship.

Roatan didn’t have its own tender service, so we got to ride in the lifeboats. The whole way there, Wendy and Matt and I giggled about hopping on the Royal Caribbean ship and stealing rolls for the Costa staff to eat. It’s a long story that’s probably only funny to us. Pulling up to the dock, we went right under the bow of the other ship.

The port area in Coxen Hole consists of a giant tent full of vendors, a bar, and a parking lot full of shuttle buses. We were really hoping to get on the Jesus shuttle, but we ended up on a school bus instead. We all got wristbands for Tabyana Beach, and we were off.

We drove along the coast down toward the West End. The homes outside the little port area were as expected: ramshackle buildings on stilts, with laundry hanging all over the place. It wasn’t actually as depressed as I’d have expected, but the whole island is really resort-oriented.

We headed uphill through the interior of the island, and the bus ride all of a sudden became a roller coaster. The bus would come up on a tight curve slowly, the driver would try to peer around the corner, then he’d sound his horn (which was modified to be a LOT louder), and go tearing off. We went up and down really steep hills at alarming speed; I think the bus just needed the momentum to even keep going. It was awesome.

At the top of a big hill, the driver stopped to let cars pass. The view was amazing, and reminded me of Maui.

We passed through the shops and restaurants in the West End, and arrived at Tabyana Beach around noon. I was so excited, I wanted to climb out the window rather than wait for everyone to get off the bus.

We had to stand around and wait for an attendant to get beach chairs for us, but that was fine because there was a bar right there on the beach. I’m considering that as a career option, actually.

Once our chairs arrived, I took time only to throw my bag and towel on one of them, and take off my shirt and shorts. I couldn’t get the in ocean fast enough.

Wendy and I agree that the day we spent on the beach in the Dominican Republic was one of our favorite days ever, so we couldn’t wait to repeat it. This time, though, there weren’t even tiny jellyfish in the water. It was absolutely perfect, and we were even allowed to bring our drinks into the ocean.

We spent a lot of time just bobbing around talking. We practiced wrestling moves, and I killed Cindi like an alligator. I attached myself to Matt in ways that would otherwise have been inappropriate in public. We took off our bathing suits and held them overhead just like I did in the DR. When we ran out of beverages, Cindi yelled, “WALTER!!!” and our server waded out into the water to take our orders. I could maybe live in Roatan.

After a while, we decided to take a break from chilling in the ocean, and go visit the souvenir shop. I’m pretty sure everything in the entire place cost $2, except for the coffee Matt got, which was $6.

The reef is only about 50 feet from the beach there, so we’d thought about renting snorkels. They were $10 each, whereas a kayak was $15. I was nervous about it, because I figured we’d flip over or something. Matt promised we wouldn’t, so we rented a 2-person kayak and set off to see the reef.

Holy crap, it was amazing. I loved it far more than canoeing, and it felt even more steady. In places, we were only a few inches above the reef. I stuck my camera underwater and took pictures.

We returned the kayak with about an hour left at Tabyana Beach. We ran back into the ocean, and it was there that Wendy and Matt and I invented SEAPOUND. It’s not as dirty as it sounds.

wendy doesn’t want to leave

accomplishment!

We got out of the water with enough time to catch one of the last buses. SIGH.

sometimes after a few cocktails, drinking 2 beers at the same time seems like an awesome idea.

wife guard!

have i mentioned that i’m madly in love with this boy? because i am.

We took the rollercoaster bus back to the port, and had a small amount of time to check out the shops in Coxen Hole. We headed into a big building full of little market stalls, and picked up a few more souvenirs. I’d have liked more time to see the town, but that’s good reason to return!

We tendered back to the ship and had some quality meat-locker time til about 7pm, then went to the card room to play Oh Hell. Jones came by and showed us a card trick; it was pretty much the cutest thing ever. We then headed to dinner in the restaurant, and they’d outdone themselves.

I had a fruit salad, a fruit soup that tasted like pina colada, a salad with balsamic vinegar, and a risotto cake with sweet potatoes, cranberries, almonds, and dandelion greens. Everything was amazing. In the middle of dinner, the staff started marching around, and a group of waiters went up to the balcony for SEXY DANCING. So funny.

After dinner, we went to find Pete. He was just waiting to teach us dirty words in Italian.

pete’s italian lessons

Our favorite was vafanculo, the Italian equivalent of ‘fuck off’. When Cindi asked him how to say ‘blowjob’, he told us he’d need to go consult the magazine in his cabin. While we were sitting there, Jones came by to tell us the disco was open, in case we didn’t know!

We didn’t want to go to the disco that early, so we went upstairs to see Niner. There was a guy on the violin accompanying a pianist, and a few people sitting there watching. After a while, we realized everyone was gone, and the two musicians were practicing together. We wanted to take credit for clearing the place out. Also, Jumi got lei’d!

We headed down to the disco, where people were actually dancing for once. We met Rob, Chris, and Barbara (known as Jersey and his crew). Jersey requested the Cha Cha Slide (you probably know this as the ‘everybody clap your hands!’ song), and knew the whole dance routine. By the end of the cruise, we’d seen him do it multiple times, and now the image of a ponytail boy from New Jersey dancing a stiff cha-cha is conjured every time I’m at a basketball game.

Wendy was doing her best to make sure we drank every single beverage on the drink menu, so she stole a sip of Chris’ Budweiser. I was dancing barefoot, and Disco Selva had officially become the Gay 90s. We even had lemon drops. When Soulja Boy came on, we all went out and danced, following the Helper Monkey’s lead. Arsenal and Man U were upstairs watching, but refused to come downstairs and dance.

We left around 2:30, knowing it was going to hurt the next morning.

thursday 3.29.2007 (dominican republic)

Posted in eastern caribbean cruise on April 1st, 2007 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: beach, caribbean, catalina island, cruise, dominican republic, la romana, ocean

We got up at 7am and had breakfast, then hung out on the deck watching the approach to the Dominican Republic. It was sunny and perfect outside, which was good, because it was time for the beach.

They loaded us all into tender boats (which also happened to be the lifeboats), and ferried us to Catalina Island.

i hold to the belief that ‘beach chairs are free’ is the dominican national motto.

It was perfect. There were beach chairs and umbrellas for everyone, waiters bringing drinks to us on the beach, and lunch served in a big pavilion in the midst of palm trees. We spent very little time in our chairs, and most of it just floating around in the ocean.

sport cup with strawberry daiquiri

There were tiny jellyfish that would sting us occasionally, and they managed to chase Stephanie out of the water. Wendy and I spent at least three hours just bobbing around, and swimming up and down the beach. I also made a point of taking off my bathing suit in the ocean and holding it above my head.

We had a picnic lunch at noon, then went back into the ocean until it was time to go around 2:30. Though we kept reapplying sunscreen, Wendy was getting even more burnt. It looked painful.

The rain arrived just as it was time to go. We got back on the tender boats, and were in our cabins by 3pm. We showered and examined our awesome sunburns, then went to go have a snack before it was time to get off the ship again. We went to Bar Casanova and got drinks; I ordered a Cuba Libre and Rodrigo asked, “Would you like a strong one?” Yes, please!

We went to the card room to play canasta, and the crabby lady running SuperQuiz in the next room shushed us for laughing too loudly. We saw that we were nearing the port at Casa de Campo, so we ran downstairs to line up, and were in the first group off the ship.

I’d done some research about the Dominican Republic, and read that Altos de Chavon, the only excursion destination, was basically a fake tourist village. While almost everyone on the ship was going there, we decided to follow the internet’s advice and go into the town of La Romana. We grabbed a cab with another couple, and the driver took us into town.

We talked to the couple about where to go; the map indicated a central square with shops in the area, so we all decided to go there. When we got near there, though, the driver didn’t want to let us out. He was apparently planning to drive us around on an hour-long tour for $5/person, stop at some shops, and then bring us back to the ship. We didn’t like that idea at all. We finally convinced him to let us out, but the couple decided to go along with him. They were intimidated by the scene at the central square: it was most definitely a very poor city.

We got out of the cab and stood on the street, trying to get our bearings. A man approached us immediately and said, “I’m one of the people who helps people get around!” and asked us where we wanted to go. We thanked him and told him we didn’t need help, and set off in the direction the cab had gone. We were clearly the only Americans around.

We had walked two blocks and were waiting at an intersection when a bus pulled up . A man hanging out of the doorway jumped off and said hi. It was the same dude again! He said he had seen that we were headed toward a very bad neighborhood, and wanted to stop us. He told us his name was Johnny, and he could show us the best stores to visit.

We agreed, but very warily. I could tell Stephanie and Wendy wanted nothing to do with him, but I figured that he’d have trouble raping and murdering all three of us before we could fight back. Plus I was sure he was just trying to make some cash, so that was fine. We set off with him in another direction, the two of them hanging back while I walked with him.

I heard Johnny’s entire life story on the way to the tourist shop. He was 34, and had a 14-year-old daughter. He asked right away if I had a husband. We talked a lot about how the Dominican Republic loses all of its good baseball players to the US. He led us carefully down the sidewalk, warning us to watch out for holes, which were actually large enough for people to fall inside. I wanted to go slower and see everything, but at the same time, I was really happy to hurry. La Romana was very different, and intimidating.

He took us to a store, and it had everything we were looking for. (This fact made me trust him a lot more, too.) I was in search of Mama Juana to bring back with me, and Wendy wanted a cigar for her boss. They had Mama Juana in all manner of different bottles and sizes, none of them marked clearly. The shopkeeper came to help us, pouring out a sample of the stuff. It was awesome. He told me that once the bottle was empty, I could just refill it with any kind of rum, and it would last forever. That’s already been proven true!

Also in the shop, we ran into the only other Americans we’d see in La Romana. They were two girls from Kansas, there on a missionary trip. Eesh.

Johnny tried to take us to another shop, but it was already closed by the time we got there. Men were yelling at us from across the street (we called it the ‘gringo alarm’), and he almost got into a fight with a couple guys he passed. We were jumping over holes in the sidewalk, and rushing to follow him.

He told us that La Romana was so poor because the government didn’t want tourists there. They built Casa de Campo and Altos de Chavon for cruise ship passengers, and would do things like shut off the electricity in the city to discourage people from visiting. It was nearing 7pm, and we could tell that the city was shutting down. We asked him if there was a bar where we’d feel welcome, so he led us to La Tinaja. I found it on the map while we sat there, and it was only a couple blocks from the spot where the taxi driver had dropped us off.

Johnny ordered us a couple beers, then told us he had to run and do something, so he’d be back in a bit to take us to get a cab. After he left, we were told they didn’t take credit cards, and couldn’t give change for dollars. We had no local currency (the travel guides swore up and down that American dollars were wanted there, and the cab and shop took both credit cards and cash, so we didn’t think much of it). We told them they could just keep the whole $20, but they got the guy we presumed to be the manager, and he calculated out the exchange rate for our money and gave us pesos in return. We sat there staring at our 510 Dominican pesos, with absolutely no clue how much it was worth, or whether we had enough for a cab back to the ship.

Decisions had to be made, and quickly. Johnny was coming back at some point, and we felt we’d be better off taking the opportunity to escape without him. Since we had no idea about the cost of a cab, we decided we’d walk. The travel guide said it was only about a mile from the port to town, and I had paid careful attention to the way we’d come in the cab. We knew which way to go, had a good map, and were determined to get out of the DR alive, with our 510 pesos or without.

It was quite dark by the time we’d crossed the bridge over the river where our ship was docked. We stood there and looked at it, because it was very nearby. We just needed to figure out exactly which streets to take to get there. We walked past the baseball fields and headed toward the road the taxi had turned from to get to La Romana. The sidewalk disappeared and turned into a little dirt trail worn in the grass alongside the road, which was crowded, and cars honked at us constantly. By the time we were crossing a train trestle on a narrow piece of concrete, with a train rumbling by beneath us, we were all at wit’s end. The constant honking and lack of a place to walk was freaking us out a lot. But we could see the road from there, so we kept going.

A man pulled up alongside us on a motorcycle, and started yelling. We indicated that we didn’t speak Spanish. Honestly, I’m capable of understanding quite a bit of Spanish, but I couldn’t pick out a single word in his Dominican accent. Finally, he communicated to us that we should turn around, and take the path near the baseball fields. We’d crossed a sidewalk in that area a while back, and noticed some people walking there, so we’d wondered about it already. We headed back on the narrow trail, crossing the train trestle again.

When we got to that path, the guy on the motorcycle was waiting. He pointed down the road past the baseball fields, in the direction of our ship. We thanked him and headed that way. It led through a run-down neighborhood with barely any lights on, but there were people sitting out on their porches watching us pass. It felt extremely hostile, and we just kept walking as fast as we could toward the port, which we could now easily see. The only problem was that there was also a large fence at the end of the road, and in front of the fence, a bunch of guys sitting on motorbikes. We didn’t have any other good ideas, though, so we just kept walking.

We got to the end of the road near the motorcycles, and there was obviously no gate in the tall fence. There was a baseball field to the right, between us and the ship. One of the guys approached, and we asked him if he knew how to get to the ship. We couldn’t understand him, either, but he started leading us through the baseball diamond. We followed, sinking into the muddy clay, because it had rained that afternoon. He finally led us up to a hole in the fence, and pointed us through it. We could not have been happier.

We rushed our gringo asses back to the ship as fast as we could go. We went to the cabin and cleaned the clay off our shoes, then examined the spoils from our adventure. We had Dominican coffee, Mama Juana, a questionably-Cuban cigar, and 510 pesos, which did in fact equal about $14 American, a fact I discovered after we returned. It would probably have been enough for a cab.

We had dinner out on the back deck, then walked around the upper decks looking at where we’d been in La Romana. We could see the stars clearly. We found a bar on deck 9 and decided to try something different for once, so we hung out there for a while. There were some super-douchey guys, and girls sharing a non-alcoholic drink with two straws. Brad and Jamie came up to tell us they were in search of a certain kind of beer, and they’d heard this bar might have it. They were denied.

Later that night, Wendy lit the boat on fire.

casanova making flaming blowjobs

We went down to Bar Casanova. On the stage nearby, they seemed to be doing some kind of dirty Spanish dancing. Rodrigo asked if he could make up drinks for me, and of course I said yes. He also told us to go have dinner in the fancy restaurant on top of the ship, and gave us the number of his friend who worked there and would treat us very well.

The bartenders were goofy as hell. Rodrigo, Casanova, and Alfred were dancing and playing bull and matador behind the bar. Alfred asked Stephanie if she came here often, because he was convinced he knew her. Casanova gave us shots of Sambuca, and floated 151 on top to light them (Wendy watched me cringe, because Sambuca burns just fine on its own). He then offered to make us a flaming blowjob, and we all died a little inside at the idea of cute little Casanova even saying the word “blowjob”.

He made them in tall, narrow shotglasses, floated 151 on top with a spoon, lit them, and handed us straws. The first time around, we blew them out and drank. He said no, we were supposed to drink them from the bottom with a straw! This seemed dangerous, but he was the bartender. He made us another round.

Wendy forgot the most important rule of blowjobs: suck, don’t blow. The 151 shot out of her drink and onto the bar. I put out the fire, while Casanova just stood there giggling and telling her she needed to suck instead. I’m pretty sure the entire staff was drunk, too.

from wendy’s travel journal

We went back to our room to find our customs forms waiting for us. Wendy started filling hers out, which seemed like a terrible idea. We played American Gladiators again, and I put on my poncho, which upset Stephanie because apparently she thought I was going to suffocate on it like a kid in a plastic bag. Finally, we all managed to shower and go to bed.

monday 5.29.2006 (the beach)

Posted in orlando on June 1st, 2006 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: beach, family, florida, ocean, orlando, visiting friends

The next morning, Alison was moaning about her hips and thighs, and I realized that I no longer get sore after dancing all night. Clearly, this means I must go even more often, ALL THE TIME.

Monday morning, we were up bright and painfully early, because we had a convertible to pick up and take to the beach. I had reserved a Sebring, but when the guy told me there was a Mustang available, how could I resist? I had even considered buying one at one point, but realized a RWD car is kind of retarded in Minnesota.

Anyway, I loved driving that car. It wasn’t as fast as Miguel, but it was powerful, sounded awesome, and was heavy like a muscle car. We spent the day driving along the coast with the top down and laying on the beach at Melbourne. I wore very little clothing, which is something I’m rarely brave enough to do, but holy shit! I was in a hot convertible driving along the ocean. It was the right thing to do.

And oh, we were sunburnt. We reapplied sunscreen several times, but I think the sun there is just too much. I had the awesome raccoon-like mask from my sunglasses, and parts of my body that rarely see daylight, like halfway down my cleavage, were pink. But, man, it was great.

We drove back to Orlando and I called Alina for dinner. It was so awesome to see her again; I can’t believe how long we’ve known each other. She reminded me of the time we saw a midget riding a Segway in Celebration. I hate how I can spend an hour or two with someone and feel like they’re part of my life on a regular basis, and then realize I don’t get to hang out with them all the time. That’s so strange to me. However, the really funny thing? The condo she just moved into is three blocks away from my brother’s house. AWESOME.

Taking the car back to the rental agency, my sister was driving Scott’s car, so I was alone. It was dark and had cooled off quite a bit; I was blasting the radio with the top down and the wind in my hair and it was so fucking perfect. And then I drove by the creepy sheriff’s car with the coconut head in it and freaked out just a little. What the hell??

friday 01.27.2006 (nassau)

Posted in bahamas on February 1st, 2006 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: atlantic, bahamas, beach, casino, nassau, ocean, paradise island, snorkeling

Friday morning, I awoke at 5:30 because the sun was already up. We put on bathing suits and sunscreen under our clothes and went to breakfast in the hotel. From the dining room there, we could watch the cruise ships pulling into the harbor.

A shuttle came to pick us up to take us to the harbor on Paradise Island, and we were not surprised to see that it was Frankie again. Watching Frankie drive, I was surprised we arrived anywhere safely; he only seemed to be watching the girls on the street, turning to look back at each of them as we passed. We got a tour of the Paradise Island hotels again, and then he dropped a busload of us off at the marina.

on the catamaran

We boarded the boat and went up to the top deck, even though it was only in the 70s. There was sun, dammit, and we were going to enjoy it. We laid in deck chairs and watched the islands disappear into the distance as we went out to sea.

It took about an hour to reach Rose Island, a little sliver of land that seemed to have only one property on it apart from the tour company’s outpost. On the side where the boat docked was a stairway leading down to a little inlet, which opened out onto the reef where we could snorkel. The other side of the island was a beautiful white-sand beach lined with palm trees with hammocks. On the top ridge of the island was the large deck where they served lunch. They had bathrooms, changing cabanas, two bars, and an equipment house with snorkels, sea kayaks, and floaty things for kids. That little island was hooked up.

island dog

We got masks and snorkels and headed down to the inlet. The water was cold, but it was just a matter of dunking a couple times and yelling loudly to get used to it. A couple showed us how to use the snorkels correctly; they didn’t allow flippers because they damaged the reef.

snorkeling

I thought it would be really disconcerting to breathe underwater, but it was fine. We could even talk to each other through the snorkels. We both had trouble getting the mask to seal completely, so water would slowly seep up around our noses as we swam. It didn’t really bother me to have water in the mask until it started fogging over, and then I discovered the real fun when I went to empty it: for some reason, whenever I came out of the water, I’d automatically breathe in through my nose. Salt water up my nose and out my mouth; I nearly threw up (we called it chumming the waters). After doing that three or four times, I finally managed to force myself to not breathe in while I ripped the mask off my face. YUCK.

Besides that, though, I loved snorkeling. It was amazing. Yeah, I know all those fish I see in aquariums actually live in the ocean, but I didn’t expect to see them right there. I didn’t see fish at first, and then I started to notice them hanging out in the shelter of corals, looking at us. Then I saw them everywhere. We saw friendly blue fish and nervous green fish. We saw eel-like fish peeking out of holes in the coral. We saw purple fan coral and yellow brain coral. I was experiencing the Discovery Channel live. When they called us for lunch, I didn’t want to go.

Here are several of the shots I took with my disposable underwater camera. The composition isn’t great, but I was kind of wearing a mask at the time. If you look closely, you’ll see a bunch of fish.

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen

rose island (reef side)

We had lunch up on the deck, from which we could see both sides of the island. It was really windy, but the sun was warm. We ate beans and rice, bread, and bananas from a giant pile of fruit in the center of the complex. We took advantage of the ‘unlimited free wine’, which was served from gigantic glass jugs (but was totally boxworthy).

perfect beach

After lunch, we went down to the beach side of the island. The waves were huge. I stood in the surf laughing my head off as each one hit me and I stumbled to stay standing. After getting knocked down twice, I followed Stephanie down the beach to explore.

exploring the beach on rose island

She disappeared on one of the secluded beaches down the shore; I decided to head back and lay in the sun. A couple guys from New York were swimming nearby, but otherwise we had the whole thing to ourselves. Right as she got back, it clouded over, and even rained for a few minutes. We gathered our things and wandered around the island for a while, then finally decided to hang out in hammocks. A bunch of the older people from the boat apparently spent the afternoon on the deck drinking the unlimited free wine, which seemed kind of silly to me when there was ocean and palm trees and hammocks to be had. You can sit on your own porch and drink cheap wine whenever you want, really.

in a hammock

The sun is out in full force until around 3:30 or 4 in the Bahamas, and then clouds start to come in the closer it gets to dusk. Stephanie insisted on riding on the top deck of the boat again on the way back, even though it was cold in the wind, without the benefit of the sun. I was wearing my bathing suit, tshirt, board shorts, hoodie, and I had wrapped myself mummy-style in my beach towel, but I was still cold. I demanded to know why we always have to be hardcore (even though I already knew the answer). We didn’t go downstairs until it started to rain.

The entire group of 25 or so were down on the first deck. The female half of the couple who had given us snorkeling advice was beyond drunk, presumably on unlimited free wine. She was demanding loudly that her husband get her another beer, that she needed help in the bathroom, and that she really really wanted to hold one of the New York couples’ babies. She sounded like a loud, whiny four-year-old, and it was something to behold. New York guy came and talked to us for a while, and he was drunk on unlimited free wine, too. There was a dad dancing in a really frightening way with his teenage daughter at the back of the boat. So, boat ride back to Nassau? Quite a spectacle.

We got back to Paradise Island, and everyone shuttled back to their hotels, saying bye to everyone else as they left. All the old people were pals, and as each couple got off the bus, the others would review their life stories out loud. I was glad we were the last ones off the bus.

We hurried to change at our hotel, because we wanted to go back to Paradise Island, but we weren’t sure how late the ferry ran. The sign said 6, but that was Bahamas time, which meant ‘whenever we feel like it’. My hair was turning blonde, and was completely straight from swimming in the ocean, but it looked awesome. It’s unfortunate that I cannot reproduce that look at home, but there is sadly no ocean about.

We walked down to the dock and waited for the ferry. It was about 5:45. At ten after six, we gave up and walked up to Bay Street to get a taxi. It costs $8 plus the $1 bridge toll to get from downtown Nassau to Paradise Island. The fares are set by the government because they used to have so much trouble with tourist-overcharging.

paradise island

We planned on exploring Paradise Island the next day, so that night we were just in search of dinner. There were four or five restaurants in Atlantis, but they were all really upscale and we were underdressed. We walked the length of the resort, then followed signs pointing to restaurants that were located outside; they turned out to be located in Marina Village, a cute little walk lined with shops that really, really reminded me of Downtown Disney.

We picked a restaurant called Bimini Road, and it was exactly the right choice. I fell in love with our server right away, an older woman who called us ‘honey’ and ‘baby’ (of course, everyone in the Bahamas calls you ‘honey’ and ‘baby’, but from her it was actually charming). She put a basket of plantain chips on the table, and we ordered drinks: I had an orange mojito I’m still fantasizing about to this day, and Stephanie got the pina colada she’d been wanting since we got there. I had a mushroom wrap with taro chips that was awesome. We stayed there a really long time, for once appreciating the fact that everything moves at such a leisurely pace there. I had a drink with rum and tamarind that I could barely touch, so Stephanie played wounded soldier: no one left behind. We tottered back towards Atlantis, weaving through a bunch of women dressed like showgirls, representing the Junkanoo Parade later that night.

crazy glass sculpture at the atlantis casino

I wanted to play video poker in the casino for a while, because I’m totally cheap and $20 lasts forever in that game (in Vegas, you can sit there for two hours playing $20 and get $25 worth of drinks, just FYI). The machines didn’t take Bahamian dollars, so I played the $6 American I had on me. I while later, I cashed out with $10. Oh, I am a high roller indeed. IN YOUR FACE, ATLANTIS!

We went out front of the resort to get a taxi back to Nassau. Our driver introduced himself as Gilbert, and proceeded to ask the usual questions: where we were from, how long we’d been there, first time in the Bahamas? By the time we got to the other side of the bridge, he had cranked the music as loud as he could, and announced that we were riding in The Party Taxi. For a minivan-taxi (as all taxis are in the Bahamas), it was pretty pimped. He even had XM radio.

Gilbert next announced, “Did you know that it’s legal to drink and drive in the Bahamas? We never have any alcohol-related accidents here because they don’t test for it!” He asked if we wanted to party, and made a move to pull over in front of a liquor store. We said no, no, we were tired and going back to the hotel. He tried to convince us otherwise. Gilbert liked to party. Everyone in the Bahamas liked to party. He had a cold six-pack of Kalik up front, and a case in the back. Gilbert was prepared for ANYTHING.

His conversation got more and more suggestive, and I could tell Stephanie was about to throw punches. I, however, was in hysterics. Gilbert was trying SO hard. He had his routine down. And as long as he got us to our hotel and didn’t take us to an alley to rape us, he could talk about it as much as he wanted.

I asked him a bunch of questions to try to distract him. We talked about the clubs downtown. He said they were frequented by an equal mix of tourists and locals; he liked to go there because he preferred white women. He then made some statement about why he preferred white women, but luckily it was drowned out by the music and I missed it. He tried his best to convince us to stop somewhere with him, but I told him we weren’t up for partying. Stephanie said she wanted to go to bed, so he announced that he could hear her bed calling his name. Gilbert was AWESOME.

We got to the hotel, and he opened the door for us. As I handed him his ten bucks, I went to shake his hand, because every shuttle-and-taxi driver there shook hands. He grabbed me instead and hugged me; I moved to allow him the least body-contact possible, and as I did so, he swung around and kissed my neck. He handed me his card, and told us to call if we wanted to have some fun tomorrow.

And that, my friends, is the last time I saw Gilbert. But if you want to have some fun in the Bahamas, he’s your man.

saturday 01.28.2006 (paradise island)

Posted in bahamas on February 1st, 2006 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: bahamas, beach, nassau, ocean, paradise island, señor frogs

Saturday morning, we got up and walked downtown. We got coffee, and since breakfast food is hard to find, we stopped into the supermarket. I got a banana and some apple-and-sultana-filled crackers called ‘Go Ahead’ that I ended up buying a ton more of and bringing home. YUM.

straw market

We braved the straw market, which even without a hundred tourists inside was chaotically crowded. It was the typical souvenir schlock, but there’s always something charming about the constant pestering to stop and look, the ‘baby’, ‘honey’, and ‘beautiful’. I found a big straw bag to tote my hoodie and travel guide around in, and offered the boothkeeper $8 for it. I didn’t realize til later what an awesome beach bag it is, too.

carving a parrot

We shopped up and down Bay Street, then walked all the way down to East Bay, about a mile from downtown. We went down under the Paradise Island bridge to Potter’s Cay, a market made up of booths selling seafood and produce. The mail boats make their deliveries down at the end of the dock, so the items for sale at the market are truly fresh off the boat. Apparently, most of the restaurants buy their supplies there.

fresh conch: this guy asked for a hug for this photo

Their most popular item is conch. You can get conch in endless forms everywhere in Nassau, and several of the booths were serving it at picnic tables out front. We looked at all the booths and headed towards the East Bay side of the bridge, looking at the harbor.

this thing goes in the ocean?

A couple blocks down, we reached our destination: the Poop Deck. Yes, we totally went there because the name made us laugh every time we said it. And also because it got good ratings in the travel guide.

the poop deck

We got there at 11:40, and the guy there told us they didn’t serve lunch til noon. We asked if we could hang out, so we ordered drinks and waited. The restaurant looked out on the harbor and Paradise Island.

kalik: the beer of the bahamas

We ate a small lunch, because there wasn’t much on the menu that wasn’t seafood. I had a coffee with rum, because I’m still nostalgic about comfort coffee in Prague. We left the place giggling and headed back towards the bridge. Because we’re hardcore, we had decided to cross to Paradise Island (PI, for those in the know) on foot.

look hard at this photo to see a sunken ship, a sinking ship, and a bunch of cruise ships docked at port.

paradise island bridge with the famous mail boat

paradise island from the bridge

We headed east on Paradise Island, towards the portion that was not part of Atlantis. I was glad that the map’s scale was a little off, or we wouldn’t have walked it in the heat; it was quite a ways further to our destination than I expected. We passed the entrance to the only public beach on the little island, and headed up towards the One & Only Resort, which hosts the Versailles Gardens.

the cloister

At the top of the hill at the south end of the gardens lies the Cloister. It was imported piece by piece from France in the 1920s by William Randolph Hearst, but not reassembled until it was purchased by the A&P heir and placed on that site. They didn’t have any instructions for putting it back together, so they guessed.

the cloister

It was a remarkably serene and beautiful place, and seemed so in a more authentic way than the rest of the island. Everything else there is so manicured and well-maintained, it has an air of unnaturalness to it. Some people enjoy the luxury and exlusiveness of those fancy resorts, but I am not one of them. I like authenticity.

harbor from the cloister

We walked down through the Versailles gardens, which reminded me a lot of some of the gardens near Lake Harriet, only much more over-the-top. Some of the statues were beautiful, and they were all very different from one another.

water lily

in versailles gardens

versailles gardens with cloister

um, fdr.

We tried to cut through the One & Only Resort, but were denied. We went back to the main road, and turned at the public beach sign. Near the entrance was a neverending line of taxis, and a woman directing us to the beach. The path was lined with cotton trees, covered in puffs of cotton.

public beach on paradise island

We didn’t have our beach stuff with us, so we didn’t spend much time there. The waves were even higher than they were the previous day on Rose Island. There was a huge crowd of college kids sitting on the steps to the beach bar.

We walked over to Atlantis, this time to actually see the resort, since everyone makes such a big deal of it. It’s very much like one of the fancier Vegas casinos, Caesar’s Palace or the Bellagio. I wanted to get a peek at the beach there, but it’s nearly impossible to get anywhere on the beach side of the complex without proof you’re a guest. We had the sense that we’d be thrown in the brig if we tried to slip past security.

yachts parked in the marina

We went back down to Marina Village to cool off and relax. We had been in the sun for several hours, and were feeling it. Stephanie got ice cream, and I got iced coffee. We sat outside on the wall and watched the passers-by, gawking at the insanely hootchie outfits on some of the women. Again, I was reminded of how much Atlantis is like a Disney property: it’s totally perfect and clean. Bright colors, friendly staff, the smell of a lot of money. Considering the conditions in Nassau, it’s kind of ridiculous. It’s like it’s there to shelter people from the reality of a poor place.

We walked around the outside of the building, and ended up back in the casino. We headed out the other side towards the beach. Finally, we saw it. They had a huge complex set up, but of course it was just for guests. The rest of us could walk along the balcony and peer at it, however.

the lagoon at atlantis

While we were standing there taking photos, a woman came up and poked at my arm. She asked, “Are those yours or henna?” I said they were mine. She launched into a monologue about all the great tattoos she’d seen there on the island. She was drunk off her ass, and amusing as hell, as was her husband, Curtis.

We were expressing some frustration over not being able to get nearer to see the beach, so they assured us that there was a way to do it if you knew how. They had managed to sneak onto the beach earlier in the day. They set off with us in tow, following the balcony towards the far end. Along the way, we saw a guy feeding the huge fish in one of their several aquariums.

atlantis: the bridge-like room costs $2,500/night. minimum 4-night stay.

It soon became apparent that Curtis and Jess really had no idea where they were going (even though they were convinced they knew). We didn’t mind, because they were fun to talk to. We walked up and down, and finally it occurred to them that they had probably come into Atlantis from the beach itself, walking down from the public area. It was time for them to head back to their cruise ship, so we said goodbye.

We wandered around Atlantis a while longer, then decided to catch the ferry back to Nassau so we didn’t have to pay for a cab again. The ferry only costs $3 each way, and it’s awesome to be out in the harbor with the cruise ships.

cruise ships

They crowded as many people on the little ferry as possible, and everything seemed a little rickety. I had the seat closest to the back (the stern, duh) so I could take photos as we left. I leaned back against the railing to turn around, and it gave. It was held onto a post by twine. Thankfully, I did not fall off a ferry boat into the ocean.

nassau waterfront

straw market with cruise-people

The big cruise ship days in Nassau are Tuesday and Saturday, so the straw market was mobbed when we reached the dock. As we had several times already, we walked past Señor Frog’s, the notorious spring break bar originally from Mexico, and I asked Stephanie jokingly if we were going there for dinner. She yelled NO again, as always.

We walked back to the hotel and got our beach-stuff so we could enjoy the last bit of sun before the clouds came in. We sat on the beach across the street from our hotel and watched cruise ships leaving port. We gaped in disbelief as this monster of a ship backed out and did a 180 in what seemed to be a way-too-small harbor. It followed the pilot boat out into the ocean, and was on its way. We decided we really needed to take a short cruise sometime, because places like the Bahamas seem especially geared towards that kind of vacation. The hair-braiding woman came over to offer her services just like she’d already done four times since we arrived. We again declined. Someone tried to sell us timeshares, just like they’d already done. We got out of it by telling him we were leaving the next day.

We went back to the hotel and perused our guide, looking for dinner options. We didn’t really want to take a taxi again, lest we encounter Gilbert, nor did we want to pay the $20 to get to PI and back, since we’d just come from there. The British Colonial Hilton was nice but boring, and the several restaurants along Bay Street were primarily seafood or take-out. I said, “So, it’s Señor Frog’s, then?” She didn’t think I was serious. She should’ve known better, since we have a longtime history with this kind of thing: ‘Want to go to THAT tacky tourist restaurant?’ Joke about it 50 times, and all of a sudden you HAVE to go, just because you’ve talked about it so damn much.

we know how to party.

Oh, we made the most of our visit to Señor Frog’s. We ordered normal-sized drinks, but they arrived in yards anyway. We watched a bunch of drunk 19-year-olds dancing on tables near the bar, and girls with the worst voices ever singing karaoke just to get free shots. We ate bad Mexican food that somehow tasted really good. I went to the bathroom at least three times, and the last time I opened the stall door to find the janitor standing there with a mop and bucket. He said, “Oh, sorry, baby.” No problem, dude. I’m kicking it tacky-tourist-style at Señor Frog’s!

We laughed our way out of the place, me clutching most of my second yard of whatever it was. We walked back to the hotel, and met a guy along the way who asked us the usual questions. I suppose I felt some apprehension for a minute: drunk American chicks walking alone along a beach in Nassau. But he was friendly and wished us a good trip home. My drink went into the trash can in the hotel untouched, although I offered it to Stephanie (from the trash can) several times and SHE WOULDN’T DRINK IT. I loudly proclaimed from the bathroom that I was having the best pee of my life, and then I very soon after collapsed into bed.

friday 07.01.2005 (day two: the big island)

Posted in hawaii on July 25th, 2005 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: beach, big island, hawaii, honolulu, kona, oahu, waikiki

I woke at 4:30am, and we were up and wandering around by 6:30. We got coffee across the street at our hotel’s other complex, and cut through the building to the ocean. We took off our shoes and started walking up the beach. There were a bunch of old folks taking hula lessons at the south end. Plumeria littered the ground and smelled amazing; I spent the day with flowers in my hair.

Even at 7 in the morning, there were people out surfing and laying in deck chairs at their hotels. Near the breakwater, we met a guy who said he’d come from LA to Hawaii a year ago. He told us about the events on the beach, and directed us toward Diamond Head. We started off towards that hike, but once we got passed the zoo and about 20 different gardens, we realized there was no way we’d be able to walk there and climb it, see the sights, and get back to the hotel before the noon checkout time, since it was 10 already. We headed back and, of course, we had walked far more than we realized.

We checked out of the hotel, stashed our stuff there, and headed back out to find lunch, then shop. Waikiki is gaudy and amusing, and has insane amounts of shopping, even though it’s a very strange blend; they have very high-end designer boutiques intermingled with regular clothing stores, souvenir shops, and ABC Stores (a sort of tourist convenience store), which are located on at least every other block. There are endless malls, but the restaurant variety kind of sucks, unless you’re wanting seafood or a gigantic steak. But that is the way with the tourist locales.

waikiki beach

Everyone we talked to was so friendly and talkative. I was charmed by all the ‘aloha’ and ‘mahalo’. I always forget how different that is from the upper midwest, where some people are inclined to flinch when spoken to.

I managed to restrict my shopping to a few tshirts, since I didn’t want to break out the spare suitcase until I really had to. We laid in the sun for an hour at our hotel pool, and spent more time at the beach. Then we went back to the hotel and caught the shuttle back to the airport. We left at 4:45 and reached the airport at 6pm; it’s ten miles away. Thus is the very VERY annoying traffic situation in Honolulu. (I’m amused by the fact they have interstates. There’s maybe 50 miles of highway total, and they’re usually packed like a parking lot).

We took our first inter-island flight on Aloha Air. I was far too excited at the concept of open seating, having never flown on anything smaller than a DC-9. I was even more thrilled by the fact they had beverage service on the 30-minute flight to the Big Island. The plane is at altitude for 10 minutes at the most; they barely have time to pass out cups and collect the trash before landing.

We arrived at the Kona airport and got to deplane right onto the tarmac. I nearly peed with excitement. It was so oldschool and amusing. We walked the two feet to the baggage claim, waited 5 minutes, then walked another 2 feet to the rental car shuttle. The Kona airport is seriously a small group of tiki-style huts on a giant lava field. It was really starting to feel like Hawaii.

We picked up our first car, a champagne-colored Cavalier named Captain Cook. We drove the ten miles to the hotel in Kailua-Kona (I still can’t figure out which of those is the actual town), and checked into our alarmingly 60s-style hotel. It was after 9pm, so we went out in search of food in the tiny town, but shortly gave up because everything in town was closed or packed-full of drunk people. We decided we just wanted sleep instead. In true me-style, I woke up screaming around midnight, and jarred Stephanie so badly she was up most of the rest of the night.

saturday 07.02.2005 (day three: the big island)

Posted in hawaii on July 25th, 2005 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: beach, big island, hawaii, hiking, hilo, kona, national parks, ocean, volcano, waterfalls

I got up at 7 and felt like maybe I had already adjusted to the time change. Stephanie and her sunburn (which was substantial enough to constitute another entity) got up and we headed off down “Highway” 19 (highways in Hawaii are something entirely different than in the rest of the universe. They could conceivably term a cattle track a highway, from what I saw there.) We were in search of food, and soon discovered nothing was open, not even the coffeeshops. The whole town of Honaunau was without power. We finally found a grocery store in Oceanview, and bought fruit and snacks. In the midst of the lava-dust parking lot, they were hosting some kind of weird outdoor flea market thing, with fruits I’d never seen before.

old lava flows

The Kona Coast is all trees, ferns, flowers, and coffee farms. About 40 miles to the south, the lava fields begin. The first time I saw them, I wondered why all the earth was plowed up like that. It looked like a freshly-tilled field in Wisconsin, only with scrubby plants. The colors range from brown to grey to black. I thought it was what it must look like on the moon.

We drove through a cute little town with a classic car parade and a giant sea turtle painted on the roof of the main building, very close to the southernmost point in the US. We stopped to see a black-sand beach along the south coast of the Big Island; it was incredible. The sand is very gravelly and hard to walk on until you’re close to the water, and then it’s fine and powdery and warm from the sun. We climbed over lava flows and watched black and red crabs scrabbling over the rocks. I was really smart and wore flip-flops to do this. Also, we very quickly discovered that one cannot spend a single moment outside in Hawaii without sunscreen. Within 10 minutes, I could feel my nose burning.

We got to Volcanoes National Park, made the obligatory stop at the visitors’ center to pee and see if the rangers were hot, then set off for some hiking. We saw steam vents, which made walking around in the heat extremely unpleasant, and then the sulfur vents like one sees at Yellowstone.

steam vent

sulfur banks

kilauea crater

offerings to pele

We saw the crater at a couple different overlooks, then spent time walking around the gravelly lava rock. I was fascinated by these piles of rocks I saw everywhere; at first I thought they were trail markers, but there were way too many. I still can’t figure out what they were about, but I fell in love with them.

We hiked up Devastation Trail to the other big crater, then toured the Thurston lava tube. The lava tube portion of the park was the first real rain-foresty environment I’d ever seen in my life. It was amazing.

devastation trail

kali-kilauea crater

thurston lava tube

By 2pm, we were exhausted from the hiking and not having much to eat. We decided to drive to Hilo, which was the opposite direction from our hotel, and the other “big” city on the island. It was probably the lack of food that made us extremely cranky, but we were immensely pissed off at Hilo. We couldn’t find the downtown. We could only locate fast food and Wal-Mart and a crappy mall. We drove in circles until finally the guidebook led us to the Hilo Bay Cafe, one I had originally chosen.

The food was excellent, and we were both reminded of Real Food Daily in L.A. at the exact same time. Our faith in Hilo was restored.

We asked our server girl if it would be faster to take the loop around the top of the island from Hilo back to Kona, becase it seemed it might be quicker that way (technically, there’s the Saddle Road that cuts across the middle of the island, but apparently it’s only passable half the time). She said it was a nicer drive to go that way, so we did. On the way out, we discovered the real downtown Hilo, and our faith was doubly-restored. It wasn’t the industrial, boring city I had read about at all. It had a cute little downtown, an awesome farmer’s market, and a natural foods store where I stocked up on healthy treats like a crazy person.

Eleven miles north of Hilo, we turned off to see Akaka Falls. The route led us through a tiny town of maybe six buildings, with a very cute cafe where we stopped for coffee. We drove up the hill through bamboo farms, then hiked in to Kahuna Falls, then Akaka Falls.

akaka falls

This was even more rainforest than it had been at the national park. I couldn’t get over it. Monstrous trees, ferns, and dangling vines everywhere. It was so humid it was painful to breathe. It had its own little local rainshower.

It seemed as if there were hundreds of birds singing in the trees, but I couldn’t get a glimpse of them at all. It was beautiful.

We drove up the coast over valleys, each with their own waterfall. Near Waimea, we took the exit and drove up to see the Waipio Valley, along the north coast. The travel guide warned us three times to not drive Captain Cook down into the valley, as he would likely never come out. Just the walk to the overlook was so steep I was worried about falling down the hill. We got to see the sun starting to set over the ocean.

waipio valley

We drove back to Kailua in the dark, which pretty much sucks on those Hawaiian “highways”. We decided to give in to the ridiculous touristy aura of the tiny main drag in Kona, which was all bars and restaurants on second-floor decks over ABC Stores and the like. We went to Lulu’s, because the book said they were offbeat and their servers had horrible attitudes; it screamed Luce to me. Of course, no place can ever be Luce but the real thing. The main lesson of the night was do not make eye contact with drunk guys at any cost!

But the nachos were awesome.

sunday 07.03.2005 (day four: the big island)

Posted in hawaii on July 25th, 2005 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: beach, big island, hawaii, hiking, hilo, kona, national parks, ocean, volcano

We arose mas early, got coffee, and headed back to Volcanoes National Park. Stephanie made the drive in about 2 hours, which is remarkable; it’s only 90 miles, but then it’s also Hawaii. We took Chain of Craters Road 20 miles down to the southern coast, where Kilauea is still actively producing lava.

On the way, I called the 800 number to get the lava update. They tell you where red lava was last sighted in the park, and give you about a million safety precautions. You drive down to the ranger station at the end of the road (it used to be a much longer road until it was buried in lava), you hike in a half-mile, and then you start climbing. They tell you to come fully prepared for a hardcore hike, and not to even think about it if you’re any kind of pussy.

The park ranger at the station explained to us where the lava was sighted: they had four beacons set up, three following the coast to mark the do-not-cross-or-fall-in-the-ocean-and-die line, and then the fourth inland near the furthest reaches of the safety zone. He said the lava could be found somewhere around the 3rd and 4th beacons, somewhat inland. We set off on the hike.

I’m having a very hard time explaining the hike through the lava field. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before, and nothing I ever expected to see in my lifetime. It was the most surreal, barren, and beautiful landscape. It makes me cry to think about it now; it was completely unbelievable.

lava spilling into the pacific

As we climbed lava hills along the coast, we could see the steam plume rising from the ocean. We had been warned that the vapor from the plume contained hydrochloric acid and bits of lava glass. To get out to the fourth beacon, however, you kind of have to spend some time near the plume. It made me nervous.

The route out to the first beacon was marked with little glow-in-the-dark tabs to lead the way. People hike the route at night, because it’s easier to see the red lava. (Having done that hike during the day, I think anyone who does it at night is either insane or suicidal.) Once you get there, you’re on your own… you know the general direction of the beacon, but it’s way too far away to see it. You just walk and hope to find it. We managed to find 2, then completely missed 3 somewhere near the coast. As we were about to collapse from fear of being lost in the lava field, we found 4, and took triumphant photos with it (involving rock hands, as usual).

pahoehoe

I was pretty worried at that point about the steam plume. I licked my lips and had the most horrible taste in my mouth. In addition, the lava out that far was a lot less stable. There were big collapsed holes where gas bubbles had burst. I’d walk over areas that were much, much hotter than the rest. We knew there had to be fresh stuff nearby, but didn’t know how much longer we should be out there. Finally, we saw a couple walking back from much farther out; they said they saw some red rocks about 45 minutes away, but no flowing lava or anything. We didn’t want to die and were running low on water, so we decided to head back. It was a hell of a long hike, and it was hot.

fresh lava - still glass

Halfway back to the ranger station, Stephanie slipped and slid down onto a rock. Well, lava being like glass, it did some damage. She had blood running down the back of her leg like crazy. We did our best to clean it up with Kleenex, and she had to limp the last couple miles back to the ranger station. By the time we got there, we were out of water, covered in this strange volcano dust probably consisting mostly of acid, and exhausted.

We went to Volcano Village and found nothing of use, so we drove into Hilo for supplies to patch her up. We then drove back around the top of the island (which is now known as the ‘fast route’), and arrived in the Kona area around six.

We drove south 20 miles or so to the national historic park of Puuhonua o Honaunau. It had been a sacred site and place of refuge in the 16th century for warriors and people who had violated kapu (taboo). [Note: kapu quickly became one of our favorite words of all time.]

the big’un was about 6″ long.

We arrived at the perfect time. The sun was starting to set, and the place was beautiful and serene. It was a salt-and-pepper sand beach around an inlet, with ceremonial huts and tiki idols. We climbed on the lava rock amongst tidepools and and looked for sea turtles.

puuhonua o honaunau

We both spent time wandering around by ourselves, and I felt like it was one of the most perfect, calming places I’d ever been. I took almost 40 photos there, just trying to capture it.

We stood with the tiki statues at the mouth of the little inlet and watched the sun disappear into the ocean. It’s a place and time I’ll never forget.

After dark, we drove back to Kona Town and the touristy strip again for dinner. This time it was enchiladas at a Mexican place. I realized as I was sitting there overlooking the street that I had become completely accustomed to that constantly-sticky feeling one gets from excessive heat and humidity. It’s something that drives me crazy at home, but in Hawaii it just seemed to fit.

monday 07.04.2005 (day five: the big island / maui)

Posted in hawaii on July 25th, 2005 by jenni | No Comments »
Tags: beach, big island, hawaii, holidays, kahului, kona, lahaina, maui, ocean

We got up early and stopped at Starbucks for coffee before heading to the airport. I was way too excited to buy the special edition Hawaiian Starbucks card, to complement my superspecial ‘original’ card from Seattle. If I was also supersmart I’d have bought extras, because baristas always try to buy them off me. Alas, I am not supersmart at all.

rock graffiti

We had discovered the night before that the Big Island has some of the most fascinating road-graffiti I’ve ever seen. North of Kailua-Kona, it’s all black-rock lava fields. People take white rock and leave messages all over. They’re everwhere, and must look amazing from a helicopter.

The Kona airport, as I’ve mentioned, is a series of tiki huts. There’s the long building with all the check-in counters, and once you get past there, it’s a few huts for gates, and restaurant/bar hut, and a shopping hut. We spent 5 minutes in the shopping hut buying tacky postcards, and the rest of the time in one of the gate-huts writing them out. Luckily, I had about 30 of them to send, or I’d have been bored to death.

kona tiki-huts

We arrived at the usual pre-flight time, which meant way too early for such a little airport. It took about 5 minutes to return the car, get the shuttle back (the shuttles at the Kona airport are completely unnecessary), and check in. This time we were flying Island Air, and the people were just as friendly. The flight was barely half an hour long, but we still got beverage service.

haleakala

We flew to Maui on a turboprop jet that was smaller than a tour bus. I loved it. We could see both of the islands at the same time from the air. I saw the huge resorts around Wailea, Haleakala, and sugar cane fields as we landed.

wailea resorts

As before, we got to climb right out onto the tarmac. The Maui airport was much bigger, though; jets are allowed to land there.

Since it was only 9:30, we decided to set out on the road to Hana, which the book described as an all-day drive (it’s 52 miles). We got the exact same car in silver and named him Captain Hook. We stopped at what was soon to become one of my favorite natural-foods markets (Down to Earth) for picnic fare, and set off on our way from Kahului.

surfers at Hookipa Beach

The road to Hana begins in Paia, a town which quickly became a favorite. It’s on the windward side,
so it’s all about windsurfing. Full of cute shops and restaurants, it’s the kind of place I love to wander. Past Paia, we wandered around Hookipa Beach at the overlook, watching the surfers and gawking at the color of the water in the tidepools. It seemed that the ocean along the beaches in Maui looked a lot different that it did on the Big Island; much more clear and turquoise.

The drive up the road to Hana is amazingly slow. There wasn’t even much traffic at that time of the morning, but it’s a tiny 2-lane ‘highway’ that turns into a single lane on bridges, of which there are more than fifty. You round a switchback at the edge of a cliff, drive down into a gulch, stop at a one-lane bridge, wait til it’s clear, then cross. Then up out of the gulch, around another tight cliff-switchback, and repeat. Each gulch had its own stream and/or waterfall coming down from Haleakala. We saw gigantic groves of bamboo, dense hanging vines, and the road was littered with flowers. We saw banana, pineapple, sugarcane, coconut, and papaya farms. It smelled like eucalyptus the whole route.

We turned off to drive down to the Keanae Peninsula, a tiny old village on a lava flow. The coast was lava rock and tidepools, with waves slamming up over the rocks. I couldn’t believe how picturesque Maui was. It was almost too much to absorb.

Outside Hana, there were roosters running around all over the road. I was a huge fan of Hawaiian Road Cock (not so much of the Hawaiian Road Weasels we saw in both living and flattened form… apparently they were some kind of mongoose). We made it to Hana close to lunchtime, and visited the famous Hasegawa General Store. I tried Maui potato chips and was unimpressed (they also made me sleepy). We considered driving the 20 miles past Hana to the 7 Sacred Pools entrance to Haleakala National Park, but the road was tiny and I later read that we weren’t actually supposed to take our rental car out there. We went back to Hana and had our picnic lunch at the beach in town, which had reddish-brown sand. After lunch, we headed back down the way we had come.

waterfall and pool

Right as we left Hana, it started raining. It was mostly heavy mist, which didn’t prevent us from getting out of the car and hiking around by a waterfall, even though we came back drenched. Then the rain really began, and we all of a sudden knew the meaning of rainforest. It was insane driving on that tiny, winding road in a downpour. I also started to understand why they said those little streams could turn into raging rivers within seconds.

bamboo grove

As we turned out of one gulch, we saw a giant rainbow. Even though we saw them daily in Hawaii, it was still amazing. We drove back to Kahului and checked into our hotel. It was another of those tacky 60s-style a-frames on the outside, but the rooms were awesome. We changed into bathing suits with our regular clothes over the top, and headed over to the other side of the island, to the resort beaches.

The western side of Maui is the leeward side, and Lahaina is the biggest town (it’s 22 miles from Kahului to Lahaina). North of there, it’s mostly beach resorts. We drove to Kaanapali and found the well-hidden public beach access. For late afternoon on the fourth of July, it wasn’t terribly crowded. The beach was a few miles long with golden sand, and we could see both Lanai and Molokini Crater from there.

kaanapali beach

Now, I haven’t gone swimming since I was in high school, and my skin crawls at the mere thought of putting on a bathing suit. But, dammit, I was in Hawaii, and I was going to swim in the ocean. We laid out our towels and bags, and as Stephanie stood there telling me how she really didn’t want people there to see her in a bathing suit, I ripped off my clothes and ran into the ocean.

It was wonderful. There were big waves coming in, so we jumped around in them and fought against the current. I didn’t like walking in the seaweed that was 20 feet out from the shore, so I started swimming up and down the beach. Stephanie got caught by a big wave and yelled at the top of her lungs, “IT’S PULLING ME OUT TO SEA!!!” I laughed so hard I almost drowned.

We watched the sun set over the ocean again, then decided it was time to head to Lahaina for fireworks. We showered and rode back into town wearing our towels, then got dressed in a parking lot. We went to a little outdoor taco place with 800 varieties of salsa, and took turns going to the bathroom on the other side of the strip mall to wash up. While we were at Starbucks getting the critically-important evening coffee, we heard the fireworks starting. We walked a block down to the main street and found an open spot from which we could see them being fired from the harbor. The fireworks were OK; they were the same standard seen in most places in the country, set to painfully-cheesy patriotic hits such as Born in the U.S.A.. However, it was incredible being there in a huge crowd of people from all over the world, gathered in that little town on Maui.

As the fireworks were ending, a couple teenagers tossed a big firecracker into the middle of a bunch of people. A woman yelled, “MY BABY!!!” exactly in that way panicked women yelled, “MY BABY!!!” in superhero cartoons of my youth. Apparently, it went off too close to her kid’s stroller for comfort. She set her husband on the teenager, and a fight started. Then the shrieky lady was crying, trying to hold her husband and his flying fists away from the stupid kids. The whole group of them had had way too much to drink. Then the cops became involved, and the fun ended.

We wandered in and out of shops along Front Street. I liked Lahaina for its touristy but not-too-tacky atmosphere; it reminded me of a clean version of New Orleans. There were a bunch of surf shops, 10 or so ABC Stores (about 5% of what Waikiki has), various galleries and souvenir shops, and lots of restaurants. I bought some clothes and a bamboo purse. We decided to come back to Lahaina during the day to see the rest of the sights, so we headed back to the car. On the drive back to Kahului, we noticed THE STARS. I had never seen the sky like that before. It was late and we were tired, so we decided to save that for another night as well. We went back to the hotel, showered sand out of our butt cracks, and went to sleep.