Hawai’i Pt. 3 // The time we drank from Akaka Falls

I have this ‘thing’ with Mother Nature. I guess you could call it a love affair since Honey’s okay with that. When the sun is shining bright (and the temperature is above 60 degrees Fahrenheit) nothing can keep me locked indoors. Okay, except maybe season 5 of Sons of Anarchy, or season 50 (I’ve lost count) of Grey’s, but that’s for a different conversation because, oh yea, we’re talking about Hawai’i here!

Anyway, on this particular Hawaiian day, the sun was shining bright, the temperature was somewhere between 75-81 degrees and there was hardly a cloud in the sky, which surely we’d all agree is just the right recipe for a PERFECT day. And perfect it was! If you’ve ever dreamed of driving through real Hawaiian country (click HERE to see the route we took), I suggest you get your pretty little self a plane ticket right this instant. It. Was. Divine. Perfectly perfect (which is way better than perfect) and absolutely THE MOST beautiful, or so we thought, until 2 hours into our perfectly perfect drive from the Leeward Side to the Windward Side when we fell upon Akaka Falls State Park and ‘absolutely THE MOST beautiful’ turned into ‘absolutely-positively THE MOST incredibly-wowza beautiful’. Now believe you me when I tell you that my breath was literally taken away. Like that lovely little island just up and punched me right in the lungs. How all of this beauty can reside on one small island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is beyond me, but it does! It really exists! And it’s beautiful! And breathtaking! And unbelievable! And amazing! And, oh my goodness, enough with my crazy buffoonery, just see for yourself!

 

You’re Welcome.

Hawai’i Pt. 2 // Kailua-Kona

Although we made sure to fill our short time doing and seeing something different each day we were in Hawai’i, we diligently kept ending up at the Kailua Village Farmer’s Market like our lives depended on it. It wasn’t just the tropical fruit that eagerly hurried our little tastebuds over, but also the amazing trinkets and treasures that were found around every corner of that humble and humid tarp covered market community. It was a personal favorite of mine, mostly because of the $2 pineapple I’d get to enjoy while wandering about and treasure hunting, but also because I’m a product of my garage-sale-lovin’ Mama and it’s just about physically impossible for me to say “no” to a good bargain.

One night, after our daily farmer’s market excursion, we wandered about Kailua Village and happened upon a Hula competition taking place at Hulihe'e Palace, a historic vacation home of Hawaiian royalty. We stayed long enough to see one lovely hula, however most of the competition involved a whole lot of talking and joke telling and not so much dancing. Reminiscent of one of our family reunions (it’s an islander thing), our ocean loving bones were aching to get up and explore more of the historic village, so we ditched out early and had ourselves an adventure. Shelby fished for pearls (the kind you have to pay $15 for), we filled our bellies with delectable New Zealand cuisine (Kia Ora!), hit up just about every ABC Market on every block (because you really CAN get Anything But Clothing there!) and finished our night off with fresh Kona coffee and toasted coconut macadamia nut ice cream, and let me tell you, there really isn’t anything better than Kona coffee and toasted coconut ice cream together on the beaches of Hawai’i. I’ll bet my money on that.

Hawai’i: Pt. 1

Perhaps it’s the single digit temperatures and shameful weather we’ve been experiencing here in Salt Lake City that made me cry real big tears this week when I had to bid ‘Aloha’ (it means goodbye too, peeps) to the big island of Hawai’i. Real tears. The kind of tears that make your heart break and your face turn red and contort into all sorts of hideous shapes. You know the kind of tears I’m talking about.

I spent a blissful week in the purest of paradises, and because I’m a true island girl at heart and by birthright (thanks Dad!), I felt right at home. Needless to say, my heart’s home obviously has very little to do with frozen slush and puffy jacket’s and ears that get so freakin’ cold they almost fall right off your head and shatter into a million pieces. No. My heart wears hibiscus flowers and flip-flops and resides, for most of the year, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on the islands of my ancestors. What can I say? I can’t help it. It’s in my blood.

Brace yourselves. I’ve been lost to the blogging world, but I’m back! (you were worried, right?) And you’re about to get days and days and more days of endless Hawai’i posts. I’m just not ready to let go yet.

Aloha ‘oe!