My wife and I spent two weeks in Hawai'i (one week Kaua'i, one week Hawai'i/Big Island) in 1995, longing to go back. They don't call it paradise for nothing.
Some friends live on Kaua'i, a smaller island, raw and wild, with the wettest place on Earth, Mt. Waialeale, a few miles from Waimea canyon, hot and dry, the largest in the USA except for the Grand Canyon. Kalalau Lookout ... driving to the very end of the road, park the car walk up a path to a cliff edge which hides its view until the last possible step and then ... "Bali Hi!" ... seen from on top looking down into lush green fingers of mountain valleys (a local there said he had never seen it this clear in 10 years), the Na Pali Coast ... later hiking its coast hugging rugged trail. Wet Cave, Dry Cave ... first time ever snorkeling, acid-fish trip. Hawai'i ... Big Island ... volcano rainforest ... hiking across the Little Iki Crater moonscape shrouded in fog and sulfur fumes. Ne-Ne, the volcano geese, protected and unafraid. The steam vents, hell's laundry. Driving down the slalom road at dusk to see the neon lava pouring into the sea ... the ground and air are hot with a heat not of the sun. Walking on dried lava beds that look like the crusty top of a pan of brownies. Later, snorkeling the Kona Coast ... clearest water ever, small lagoon, a riot of oceanic psychedelia. At 7 a.m. the giant green sea turtles come close to shore to feed ... they look at me with complete indifference as we all float slo-mo in the embryonic fluid. Must get back. Soon, very soon. -Fred
