Moby Dick, Tortuous Bus Rides and Lap Dance Sushi

Our last day in Maui was devoted to visiting the west part of the island (also known as “the head”). After getting a late start to the day in order to finish our packing, we made our way to Napili for a late breakfast and an oceanside view at The Gazebo restaurant. While we stood in line awaiting our table, we chatted with some amiable fellow tourists, one of whom spent time in Bhutan filming a documentary with the king. We were also struck by the almost uniform demographics of our fellow visitors. Hawaii, after achieving statehood in 1958, was recolonized in successive waves by the Japanese and the Californians. While in Maui, we saw plenty of the latter, but virtually none of the former. This is almost certainly a reflection of the highly-successful Bush administration policy to protect the U.S. from terrorists by first ridding it of all affluent Asian tourists.

Afterward, we drove down to the tourist hell of Lahainia to inquire about whale watching trips. Unfortunately, the tours conducted by the Pacific Whale Foundation (the most reputable and eco-friendly operator) were sold out. As the skies grew increasingly overcast and the whale watching boat pitchmen grew increasingly obnoxious, we settled on passively watching the whales from the shore. Despite our best efforts, we were really only able to catch a glimpse of one speedy sperm whale’s backside, which caused Kaberi to grumpily pronounce, “we came all this way just to get mooned by some whale?!!”

With the west side of the island pretty much a washout at this point (our hopes of taking the scenic northern route of west Maui dashed by increasing precipitation), we decided to make our way back eastward. One of the locals had told us earlier that if it was raining on one side of Maui, it would likely be sunny on another. We found this phenomenon amazing, kind of like finding out that John Kerry moonlights as a motivational speaker in his part time (well, maybe not). Back in sunny Kahului, we ran a few errands before making our way to the airport to take an earlier evening flight out of Maui.

After a short flight, we touched down in our friend Martin’s hometown of Honolulu. Staying only one night before catching a flight to Tokyo didn’t allow us to take advantage of any of Martin’s helpful suggestions, so we contented ourselves with the notion of having a nice dinner. As we awaited the arrival of the Honolulu City Bus, we had no idea what was in store for us. Apparently, Honolulu’s bus system is managed by the same superstars who run Boston’s MBTA. The City Bus showed up about 20 minutes late, stopped once every 13.5 feet, generously boasted enough seating for about one quarter of its ridership and took 90 minutes to cover the 6-mile stretch between the airport and Waikiki. Thrilled to finally arrive at our hotel after being jostled around like crash test dummies, we quickly sought out a dinner recommendation. With the concierge desk closed, we found a friendly bellman, Marvin, who suggested a sushi joint around the corner.

When we showed up at the restaurant, we immediately recognized its appeal. Situated in a seedy, neon-festooned strip mall fronting an unmemorable back alley, it sat directly next to the Tres Jolie exotic dance club. Vik’s suggestion that we forego the sushi for some “visual” nourishment was immediately dismissed out of hand (and, in his opinion, without being given even the appearance of due consideration). All kidding aside, Vik was actually voting for finding a less seedy alternative, but Kaberi, being the daughter of the ultimate adventure traveler, overruled him. It was a wise decision as the meal turned out to be pretty spectacular. The self-satisfied grin on Kaberi’s face lasted for at least 4 hours.

Heaven's Gonna Burn Your Eyes

On Wednesday, we awoke at the ungodly hour of 3:00 am to make the two hour drive to the summit of Mt. Haleakala. Haleakala means “House of the Sun” in Hawaiian and is positioned smack dab in the middle of the island. We were heartened to learn that the volcano last erupted in 1790, earning its now-dormant status. While the drive up was winding, it was not nearly as nerve-wracking as the drive from Christchurch to Akaroa on New Zealand’s South Island (during which Kaberi took a nap while Vik invoked the divine intervention of his ancestors) or the drive up Pike’s Peak in Colorado (which Vik had the “pleasure” of doing in a rental Hyundai).

Vik ferried us up to the top of the mountain, 10,000+ feet above sea level, early enough to find a parking spot and take a breather under the vivid star-filled sky. We’d been forewarned by a number of folks that it would be cold, so we wore all the layers we could – five on top and three on the bottom – and although it felt surreal being so bundled up in paradise, we managed to stay warm in anticipation of a grandiose sunrise.

It was a soulful experience to be above the clouds watching the sun rise from below you. It was almost an otherwordly experience (the top of Haleakala resembled the rocky outcropping of some faroff planet) while we braved the 20 mph winds alongside a few other hardy and well-bundled up souls. All of us enjoyed the good fortune of being up on Haleakala on a very clear day, permitting us to truly observe the majesty and subtlety of the colorful sunrise.

At the visitor information center, we overheard a park ranger say that Maui is actually the result of two volcanic formations (one creating the head of the tortoise and the other creating the body) and that the island is roughly 900,000 years old. Maui’s smaller size relative to Hawaii’s Big Island indicates its older relative age as water has had more time to inexorably erode its borders. At some point in the distant future, Maui will actually cease to exist as it is reclaimed by the ocean. So we’d suggest making your travel plans to visit here relatively soon.

The drive down Haleakala was almost more fun than the drive up as we could actually see the topography change from alpine back to subtropical. Vik was thankful that he couldn’t see what we were driving up in the darkness a few hours earlier. Some of the sheer drops were nerve-racking for those of us with a mild fear of heights. Yet, as we made our way back down slowly in second gear, the vistas that we saw of Maui and the Pacific coastline were spectacular. We had the perfect vantage point to see the ocean, mountains and Maui’s towns in miniature.

We also took some time to do a few of the smaller hikes (the three-day hike was a bit out of our league and attention span). One of the hikes gave us a different view of the 7-mile wide crater itself, which is large enough to swallow all of Manhattan (insert your own joke here). Another hike brought us to a breathtaking lookout point to see the island’s uninhabited coastline unfold below. As the sun continued to rise and we exerted ourselves, we warmed up quickly. In short order, we had stripped off most of our endless North Face layers and worked up a hearty appetite. Our friend Scott (he of the Hai’maile General Store recommendation) had urged us stop at the Kula Lodge on the way down the mountain for their Bananas Foster pancakes. Suffice it to say that we did, much to Kaberi’s delight.

Still being a little sweaty from our time up on Haleakala, we decided to indulge in a post-hike swim. At the recommendation of our waitress, we drove to the pictureseque and velvet-sand beach in front of the Maui Prince Hotel in Makena (about 30 minutes south of Kihei). One of the democratizing aspects of Maui is that all of the beachfront is public property, allowing value investors like the two of us to sun ourselves next to those paying a hefty premium to stay at one of the high-end beach resorts. On this day, the water, which seemed outrageously cold just a day earlier, felt divine. With the mats, umbrellas, and beach chairs provided by our hotel, we were well equipped to lounge the morning away.

In an effort to minimize the cost of our meals and to take advantage of the poolside grill back at the guesthouse, we stopped at the supermarket (which happened to be a Stop ‘N Shop, ironically enough) to see what we could pick up for an early dinner. Instead of grilling, we settled on spicy tuna tartare and diet Cokes and feasted poolside on our cheap eats. We were also fortunate to be steps away from home when the rains came (this was Maui’s rainy season after all) so that we could easily run inside to take cover.

The day ended on a somewhat-ridiculous note when American Airlines called to inform us that the duffle bag lost between Chicago and Los Angeles was now en route to Kahului Airport five days after the fact. As we ruefully reclaimed the 30 pounds of gear that we had just recently made peace with losing, we had to smile at the way life goes sometimes (the emergence of the smiles almost certainly being accelerated by our immediate surroundings).

Highway To Heaven

Last night, after settling in at our hotel, we ventured out for dinner in Maui's upcountry (north/northwestern part of the island). At the suggestion of our friend Scott, a big-time foodie, we went to the Hali'imaile General Store and the recommendation did not disappoint. The General Store is the creation of celebrity chef Bev Gannon whose numerous accolades include a James Beard nomination and several commendations from travel magazines. We ordered incredibly well, if we do say so ourselves -- Kaberi had the salmon with tobiko aioli and Vik had a sashimi Napoleon that were both out of this world. Kaberi also satisfied her sweet tooth with an outrageously-delicious banana caramel cheesecake. We toasted the start of our trip over a spetacular meal and a sunset view and drove contentedly home afterward.

The next day, we got an early start on the day and embarked upon the Road to Hana, a picturesque little oceanside hamlet on Maui's southeastern coast. The Road to Hana is affectionately referred to as the "Highway to Heaven" for its breathtaking vistas. It winds 57 miles clockwise around Maui's eastern coast and encompasses numerous lookout points fronting small waterfalls, tropical rain forest and expansive coastline. The road is in itself exhilarating to drive (although it is much more gentle of a drive after being repaved a few years ago) with its windy sweeps, 180 degree turns and numerous one way bridges.

On the drive back, we stopped at Wai'anapanapa State Park (near mile marker 32) for a pleasant hike past the black sand beach and sea caves (one of which forms a natural stone arch). Just in case you wanted to know, black sand beaches are formed when volcanic lava meets the ocean and shatters. The ocean waves then naturally crush, churn and sift the particles into sand or in Wai'anapanapa's case, small pebbles. It made for a stunning view and an engaging hike. Kaberi convinced herself that she'd worked off the honey-roasted macadamia nuts she'd been shotgunning during the drive.

After making our way back westward, we stopped in at H.A. Baldwin Beach Park near the very cool North Shore town of Paia for a barefoot sunset stroll along the beach. The park was formerly a private entertainment area for Hawaii Sugar Company employees and is named for a former Hawaiian congressman. We ventured in to get our feet wet but nearly got upended by a rogue wave. It impressed upon us the wisdom of never turning your back on the ocean. After drying off, we made our way to Mama's Fish House at the suggestion of our friend Bill in Chicago, who is a longtime Maui vacationer. Even though we only ordered an entree each, the meal was definitely a splurge. But the sound of the waves lapping nearby as we sampled the lemongrass-cilantro salmon and macademia crusted mahi-mahi made it a luxury we did not regret.

Maui: The Cure For What Ails You

We felt a little guilty while getting on the plane for Maui this morning after glancing at the USA Today and seeing that the forecast high for Chicago was 4 degrees Fahrenheit. It just doesn’t seem fair for a city to have to endure brutal cold and Rex Grossman simultaneously. Five and a half hours southwest of LA, we felt our excitement for the trip mount as we made our approach into Maui’s north shore. The sight of serene, deep aqua waters amidst a backdrop of volcanic mountains and lush greenery made us realize that we weren’t on the mainland anymore. It was half past noon when the distinctive reddish-orange roofs of Kahului (Kaa-hoo-loo-ee) Airport’s terminals and hangars came into view. Vik’s head cold has turned into a scratchy cough that is only slightly less annoying than Anderson Cooper. Vik considers himself lucky that the folks sitting in front of us on the flight (incidentally from Boston) didn’t smack him around while we were deplaning. Granted, they looked to be in their 70’s and were a little distracted (they spent half the flight smooching, not that we were peeping Toms or anything). The silver lining of our lost luggage was not having to wait around for baggage claim. So, we were able to sprint over to the rental car counter to procure an SUV (primarily to perpetuate the self-delusion that we’re actually outdoorsy). Soon, we were venturing out into the welcoming arms of Maui. After a pit stop for lunch at Da Kitchen, a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant recommended by the rental counter agent, we made our way past a couple of strip malls, a large sugar factory and grassy fields to our hotel. Maui is shaped like a tortoise sticking his head out of his shell. We were staying in the town of Kihei, in the northernmost part of south Maui, or roughly just below the curve of the tortoise’s neck. Kihei is like any other beachfront resort town with seemingly tons of high-rise condos for rent. In short order, we got to experience the legendary Hawaiian island friendliness firsthand. After being rerouted by a detour sign around construction on South Kihei Road, we pulled into a Longs Drugs parking lot to get our bearings. After a few minutes of headscratching, Vik walked over to an older gentlemen getting into his truck. When Vik’s mention of the hotel and street address didn’t register, he assumed that the conversation was over. Instead, the gentleman got out of his truck, walked into the Longs Drugs, came out with a local phone book and spent 5 minutes with Vik poring over a detailed South Maui street map. Vik was so stunned by this demonstration of genuine kindness that he responded the only way he knew how to as a native Bostonian … he stole the guy's wallet. So, the rest of the Maui trip was charged to Mr. Underhill’s American Express card. Want to know the number.  NOTE:  The conclusion of this past was merely a gratuitous Fletchreference.  No wallets or credit card numbers were stolen.