The West Coast

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secret treasure


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The leeward side is hotter and its bare slopes run a ragged course skyward with only spiky shrubs for company. It feels wild and lonely, but under its surface it hides little gems if you care to look. Our airbnb host took us on a whirlwind tour of her home, arms pointing out the car window as we followed behind making our own commentary in the car behind with our new upstate New York friends. The weather was wild and misty and rainbows blossomed from the fertile ground. Strange patterns in the grass gave it a sacred feel. My flip-flop (as I shall call them whilst in the States to avoid embarrassment!) fell to pieces on the rocks so Dylan piggy backed me back to the car laughing all the while.
The highlight was the secret turtle beach, reached by squeezing down a narrow path between two houses. Three massive sea turtles sun baked whilst local children ran riot around them. They just dozed, lifting their heads occasionally, almost too much for them as they dropped their draw to snooze longer. All the more magically because it felt so secret, so safe.


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The North Shore

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What is the real Hawaii?


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If the west coast is the “real” Hawaii, the North Shore is what we dreamed Hawaii to be. We sat under a tree sipping on a coconut watching surfers navigate big waves. Behind us some locals began playing Ukelele and singing. Dylan ran and I read, while a woman carrying her baby bounced to the music. The atmosphere lacked that overcrowded tension you get on a touristy beach of a thousand people trying to relax together. It’s a laid back, beach shack, chips by the beach kind of place. Maybe we loved it because it reminded us of home with a Hawaiian soundtrack.

We took a hike into the forest and found it overgrown with Eucalyptus and blackwood, taking the Australian vibe a bit too far. When we got deeper in the forest got wetter and more tropical, orchids flowering everywhere. As we ascended there was the sound of a distant thundering, too constant to be natural, the army wasn’t too far away; it added to the atmosphere of adventure. Emerging from tangled trunks we looked down into a fern covered valley, all was quiet, no birdsong.


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diamond head

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It’s funny the memories that continuously bob to the mind’s surface, and this day had a particularly eclectic collection of imagery for me. A red headed bird I was too slow to photograph, an Amish family climbing the Diamond Head calling out Aloha to everyone they passed (the incongruous juxtaposition of this touristy place and their lifestyle made for merry conjecture back at the Airbnb, are they even allowed to fly?), the camaraderie of claustrophobes entering the tunnel, children swinging in aerial roots and a elderly woman’s delight on seeing our icecreams when we got back down to the beach (apparently it was a brand from back home). Of course the view was spectacular, but that old lady just sticks in my mind, so strange.

As we walked along the beach, killing time until we picked up the hire car (yes we caved, another 2 hour journey by bus at 7am was just too much, soft I know) it began to rain and the beach cleared, a lei floated in the suddenly empty water below. Suddenly a Honolulu beach to ourselves, we had our first swim, perfect.

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the arizona

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carpe diem


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Sometimes it’s a relief to fall into the hands of someone who trusts in serendipity with their whole heart, grasping any opportunity that comes your way. The Dallas Canadian, our Airbnb housemate, was the very man to nip our indecision in the bud, I don’t have any plans, let’s drive and see where we end up. If it hadn’t been for the rainy day we would have been long gone on the agonisingly slow 2 hours bus ride to Honolulu at 7am.

We found ourselves at a little organic farm for lunch, taking the back roads, relief from the highway. Vegetarian burgers and hawaiian salad, all courtesy of our new friend, he told us we could just Pay it Forward. He was an interesting guy, an ideas man, brain never stopping, only slowed enough to avoid sudden overload narcolepsy by ADD medication. A self confessed Sensitive with a capital S to the supernatural, an IT genius, Republican and a dedicated dad. After the meal, like he promised, we just drove and when Pearl Harbour slipped into the conversation we were suddenly on our way there. They had run out of tickets to the main event, a boat ride to the USS Arizona memorial, but as we wandered towards the ticket booth the clerk waved three free tickets at us, something electric was definitely in the air.

So many years later oil still leaks from the wreck below, a shimmering rainbow above the grave. Plastic dollar ponchos flapped in the breeze, suprisingly beautiful against the steal skies. It was a different world to the one where bullets and bombs rained from the skies, water lapped and names glistened in marble, solemn and peaceful. It’s not something we would have thought to do on our own, but it gave us an incredible appreciation for the history of the place, beyond the soaring towers and tourist filled beaches.

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