Day 5: Kayaking for dolphins, Luauing for pigs

What makes a man wake up at 5:35 am while on vacation, head out while it’s still dark and paddle around in the ocean in a kayak even before he’s fully awake? Dolphins. Apparently, right after sunrise is a great time to see dolphins do whatever it is dolphins do – which shall remain a mystery to me, because unfortunately, we didn’t see any dolphins. So long and thanks for all the nothing, dolphins! However, we did see whales. There’s something about a humpback whale spouting off a jet of water a hundred yards from you that sends excitement and joy coursing through you. The ocean swells were higher than usual (often higher than our heads), making it harder to spot and follow the pod. But the sight of those enormous tail flippers swooping elegantly through the air before disappearing under water will remain with me (thanks in no small part to this blog which serves as a crutch for my abysmal memory).

Friday evening was luau time for us – a much-awaited occasion to sample (read: binge upon) vast quantities of island chow. The venue: Royal Kona Resort just off of Ali’I Drive, by the ocean side. Now, the first rule of Luau Club is – there will be lines. A line to get in, a line for the bar, a line for the food. You’ll also notice that there’s usually a way to circumvent at least some of those lines – a prepaid voucher will get you into the place without too much of a wait and having a reserved ‘travel company’ table will probably get you a seat closer to the stage, and perhaps the buffet table. I’m not making this experience sound very appetizing now, am I? Well, it gets better. You see, when you bring together hula/fire dancers + a 130 lbs roast pig + an open bar, it more than makes up for any inconvenience :)

So once the live band picked up the pace and the dancers were on the stage (and SEVERAL mai tais had been imbibed), that luau definitely picked up.

The pig or pua’a is roasted in an underground oven called an ‘imu’ for several hours before the event. The meat is wrapped in banana leaves and chicken wire – the latter seems necessary because at the end of that precious pig’s subterranean simmering, the meat is so tender that it simply falls apart. Best damned pulled pork I’d ever had. Also, I thought the two dudes unearthing the pig were somehow appropriately intense-looking.

The hula dancing was enjoyable. No, there were no hula hoops involved. The dancers depicted tales from Hawaiian and Polynesian history and represented traditions from Samoa, Tahiti and of course, the Hawaiian islands themselves. A word about how good-looking these dancer-folk were. The sight of those chiseled, impeccably sculpted Hawaiian/Samoan men made me want to put down my fork, stop stuffing myself, and see if my gym would let me back in. The sight of the hula dancing women made me want to cancel that last thought and just take one of them home instead. Yeah. Wait. I mentioned there were several mai tais, yeah? Okay, good. The most impressive part of the show however, was its finale – fire dancing. A very gifted chap spinning two torches which were lit at both ends, creating bright blazing circles against the night sky everywhere he moved. Quite impressive.

If I weren’t so incapacitated by my err.. modest dinner, I might have taken some more pictures. Favourite foods:
Poke (po-keh) - Diced cubes of raw, fresh fish (probably ahi), marinated in sesame oil, onions, spices. Surprising and delightful. I miss this already.
Ono fish - finally. Takes on the flavour of the marinade so well. Btw, 'ono' is also the Hawaiian word for 'tasty'. How apropo.
Lomilomi salmon - Diced tomatoes, onions and salmon come together to form something delicious that resembles Maharashtrian koshimbir. Shocking, yeah. But yummy.

What I did not like (Yes, it's true. There are certain food items in this world that I do not love.): Poi. Put simply, this is taro paste. And I do not get the point of it. Feels like industrial adhesive that somehow made its way to a buffet table.

Day 4: Dear Snorkeling. Where the hell have you been all my life?

I’ve never snorkeled before this. Were I to paraphrase my time snorkeling, I’d wind up typing “Ooooh. Aaaah. Look at all the pretty FISHIES” about twenty times; but for the benefit of all my one and a half readers out there, I’ll be a little more descriptive.

Thus far, what I had seen of the ocean floor and fish-life was limited to what the Discovery Channel showed me. I’m a terrible swimmer + I rarely vacation = > I rarely vacation under water. [My logic is flawless].

I assumed that activities such as snorkeling were beyond my ken. So the delight I felt while peering out these (oh so stylish) goggles at the world beneath was considerable.

We snorkeled off of a boat that brought us to Kealakekua Bay – a mile-wide bay blessed with calm waters and ensconced within steep cliff sides. The bay is also home to the Captain Cook Monument, erected to honour the English explorer who ‘discovered’ the Hawaiian islands, befriended the locals, and eventually.. died at their hands. Hmm. Guess that didn’t work out for him. Anyway. Ah yes, snorkeling.

The water is benevolent and warm in this part of the ocean, averaging in the upper seventies, Farhenheit-wise speaking. The visibility under water is great, and there’s plenty of fish to ogle at. Is it just me or does the coral look like giant, underwater cauliflower?

No points for guessing which one of these critters is not native to the Pacific.

Day 3: Hilo Farmers' Market & Waipi'o Valley

Do you know what a Loco Moco is? It is a very tasty stepping stone en route to a heart attack. I suggest you catch a plane to Hawaii and get one. A Loco Moco that is, not a heart attack. The one I got at Café 100 in Hilo town had a grilled mahi mahi steak on a bed of rice, topped with two eggs, gravy and Portuguese sausage. In other words, a perfect vacation breakfast. I’m glad I don’t have regular access to these things in Seattle. I’d be in a lot of trouble.

Through lucky happenstance, that day (Wednesday) was one of two days a week when the local farmers’/handicrafts market puts up. Through another, quirkier happenstance, I also became briefly employed at said farmers’ market – for about 5 minutes. Quite unintentionally of course. So there I was checking out the assortment of tropical fruit at a stand, when the fruit lady disappears behind some boxes and starts rummaging, while still talking to me. I hear “You.. you helping me move boxes.” To which I can only muster a confused “I am??” Apparently, standing around a Hilo fruit stand while feeling up bizarre looking fruit constitutes recruitment. I was a little more surprised by my compliance than her insistence, and I soon found myself hauling a couple of (rather heavy) boxes of papayas to the side of the footpath. My reward, and or payment was a ‘good deal’ – a free helping of longan in addition to the rambutan I was already buying. [These are actual names for fruit. I am not making them up. Take note of the photographic evidence.] I was absolutely delighted by the rambutan – such hilarious looking fruit. Didn’t know whether to eat them or put them under spot lights and sell tickets. Both were similar to lychees really, not bad. Oh, and I’d remiss if I didn’t mention the sublime coconut pudding we picked up. Cold, sweet and coconutty to the extreme. Spectacular.

[Just realized that a lot of my ‘adventuring’ centres quite squarely around food. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!]

Alright. It’s now time to introduce The Road. (That’s what I call it, local’s call it Waipi’o Valley Road). If you get off the North Westerly tip of Highway 19 onto State Road 240, you’ll get to it in a few miles. This almost mile-long road is a 25% grade. 25%. If you’re the kind that doesn’t understand the relevance of that number, let me use some meaningful words instead. It’s like totally, majorly, bodaciously steep. You can 4WD it or walk it. Of course, we walked it. Walking down – not very good for your knees. Walking up – not very good, period. But what that road leads to makes it all worth it. Running out of time here, so I’ll use more pictures than words.

View from the lookout at the top of the road

On the black sand beach down below

A 1450 foot high waterfall is it suddenly appears around a bend down below in the valley

Ridiculous looking spider dude we spent 15 minutes looking at

Day 2: Of papayas, coffee and lava

I left Seattle for Hawaii hankering after a thing called adventure – a vague, possibly unrealistic vision starring volcanoes, rainforests, maps, and flashlights. But god damn it, I wanted it. So Tuesday morning, Brian and I set out on a two-day romp to Volcanoes National Park, Hilo and Waipi’o Valley on the Eastern side of the island.

I am impressed with The Big Island in a way that I have never been with any other piece of land. This place offers an astounding range of topology, climate and vegetation that change drastically in as little as 50 miles. Kailua-Kona on the Western side of the island are sunny and mostly dry. Our route took us across the centre of the top of the island, through terrain that was a cross between a desert, rural California, and what could be the surface of a hot, arid neighbour planet. While the first picture itself may be interesting (old cinder cone in the foreground, shield volcano in the background), it is downright incredible when contrasted with the next one, taken less than 50 miles away, along the Eastern coast of the island. On that side, you see the Hawaii you’ve seen in pictures – a lush, tropical green skirted by blue ocean.

Cruising down Highway 19 we see a sign that says ‘Scenic Route’ and dart left onto a small road closer to the ocean, and a lot closer to the ISLAND. It was here that I met the tastiest papaya of my life - at a little wayside kitchen serving up smoothies, fresh-baked pineapple muffins and fruit straight from the farm. I realise I'm glorifying a freaking papaya, but something tells me it was probably the alphonso of the papaya clan. Also present were some big, burly avocados – the kind you don’t want to come across in a dark alley on your way home from the subway station. All in all, one of the best spur-of-the-moment pit stops I’ve made. The rewards of spontaneity can be oh so sweet.


After checking into a hostel in the Hilo, we headed to Volcanoes National Park. Before I get to the lava (or lack thereof), it would behoove me to record the quote of the day. So here’s the scene: I’m in a tiny bakery slash coffee shop in a small village outside the park, aptly named ‘Volcano’. I spend five indecisive minutes peering at the baked goods and finally order a solitary coffee. “Just coffee?” they ask me (clearly the lady behind the counter felt I should have more to show for those five minutes than a measly cup of coffee). “What goes well with coffee?” I ask. Without batting an eyelid, she says to me, “Life. Everything goes well with coffee.” I guess I don’t have to explain why that moment made me hella happy. I’ll go through thousands of coffee shops in my life, but I’ll always remember that one.

Volcanoes National Park is an amazing place. Nowhere else can one carouse with an active volcano, steam vents, lava tubes, calderas and craters aplenty, and (if you’re lucky) active lava flows. Unfortunately, most of the Crater Rim Road has been closed to the public since an explosion took out an observation platform and parts of the road two years ago. It didn't help that the 470 foot wide active vent was spewing forth copious amounts of poisonous gas. As I stared at the giant hole in the ground, the rising plume seemed to connect the Earth with the overcast skies above. You could be forgiven for imagining the volcano was basically busy manufacturing clouds. Returning to the overlook at Jaggar Museum around 10 pm that night presented an even cooler view. The overcast skies and haze stifled the moonlight, and the only light source was the plume of volcanic smoke, illuminated a bright orange by the lava lake within the vent. It was awe-inspiring to just stand there in the cold still of the night, buffeted by wind, watching the glow change in intensity, reflecting the level of the liquid lava underneath. I guess the awe I felt was because in that moment, I felt like I was privy to the Earth’s living, beating heart. It’s been pounding away since before we showed up, and will continue long after we’re gone. Up there at 4000 feet, on the crest of the world’s most active volcano is a place you won’t find people reaching stupidly for their phones or Nintendo DSes. If you have any sense at all, you’ll just stand and stare, and walk away wondering. Sounds like a sappy thing to say? Yeah well.. perhaps you ought to visit.

Alright. Moving on. While it was still light outside, we had taken a short trek through an old lava tube. Part of it was lighted, bust most of it wasn’t. It felt downright spooky to be walking gingerly down the pitch-black tunnel that had been created by flow after flow of lava, all those years ago. So glad we’d picked up LED flashlights outside Hilo. It was a little daunting to come across piles of rock and rubble, then to look up and see the cavernous recess above me from whence that rocky mass obviously fell. Shudder quotient 8, coolness factor 10. We turned back at the end where the lava tube pinched off. I was little sad to emerge back into the daylight. Our topside is like.. so uncool :)

Apparently, five weeks before we arrived, the surface lava flows had diminished, and had stopped running into the ocean. Disappointeded. But still, driving to the southern end of the island did present a view of the fresh (but sparse) lava that was ponderously moving down the hillside in the distance. These pictures look cooler than what we actually saw out there – long exposure night shots can do that for you :) But still, it was pretty cool.

All in all, a truly memorable day.

Day 1: Hello Kailua-Kona

7:45 am. Apparently, that’s when I wake up while on vacation. Whatever gene people have that lets them sleep in late, I obviously lack. Thought process while waking up: half a second of ‘God no I don’t want to go to work. Ahh this hurts’ followed by ten seconds of revelry because I realized I’m in Hawaii and I DON’T HAVE TO. Muhaha.

The day was spent exploring Kailua-Kona (Read: Walking around on the main drag shopping for the perfect pair of Hawaiian board shorts. Incidentally, it is now Day 3, and I still haven’t found these mythical perfect shorts. Something is so wrong with me). Kailua-Kona is for the lack of a better word, touristy. It’s pretty of course, bathed in sunshine, nuzzled by ocean views and serviced by breeze that clearly knows what it’s doing. But it’s primarily a tourist drag with shops, restaurants, and old couples driving Mustang convertibles. Plus, the Kailua-Kona side doesn’t get as much rain as the rest of the island, so it isn’t as green as one might hope.


Come lunchtime, I was dismayed to find that a great local food joint recommended by my revered guide book had shut down, citing ‘recent economic conditions’ as the cause of their demise. But where one door closes, another opens. Hungry, I turned to Bubba Gump at the recommendation of the Gish family. And I loved it. Yeah I know it’s a chain. But superbly grilled rilled Cajun Mahi Mahi (fresh caught) and shrimp in a spicy, creamy bourbon sauce accompanied by a badass Mai Tai cannot be argued with. All you mightily prejudiced people who write off chain restaurants (where’s that Ajay fellow?), may want to give them a chance once in a while. Who knows, it could be a meal that you’d remember fondly like I did.

Come evening time we headed to Costco for groceries. Yes, Costco. On the island. And I daresay it was the biggest Costco I have ever seen. A Costco to end all Costcos. Groceries aren’t exactly cheap on the island, so tourists and local families alike flock to this warehouse store mecca to do their grocery shopping. Incidentally, the Costco petrol pump (cheapest gas on the island) looked like the entry gates to the New Jersey turnpike. I guess everything’s just bigger on Le Big Island :)

Day 0: Aloha Big Island

The best airport building is no airport building. Until tonight, the nicest airport I had seen was Kathmandu, Nepal, where the airport consisted of one red-brick building, and that was it. You got off the plane, walked across the tarmac, passed through the building, and went home. Simple. Kailua-Kona was even better – a completely open air affair. It wasn’t so much as an airport building as a yard. When I walked through the ‘gate’ I didn’t know whether I had exited the place or was still in it :) Other airports should really learn from Kailua-Kona’s ‘that’s it you’re here, now go do what you what you came here to do’ approach. Dallas-Fortworth, you listening, you big behemoth of a public infrastructure you?

One of my favourite things on this planet is breeze. Beautiful, cooling, gentle breeze. And by breeze I mean the kind that Hawaii has, that Bombay has. Not the ‘it’s 43F and now I’m going to make it colder for you’ kind of breeze that is so abundant in winter in this country. That’s not breeze, that’s wind. Wind equals bad, breeze equals good. Anyway, the point is – Hawaii has gorgeous breeze. First check mark in the “I must immediately move here” column.

Oh and the stars. I haven’t seen this many stars in the sky since.. well, never. I swear it’s like looking at a gigantic, inverted, black-with-spangles granite countertop. Note to self: Everywhere you’ve lived has enough city glow to dim out all but the brightest of them stars – you really ought to live somewhere with zero city glow at least once in your life. All said and done, driving from the airport to Waikoloa village (where we were staying), while looking up at the sky firmly put checkmark #2 in the IMIMH column.