It is clear, now: Hanalei Bay is where we should’ve been staying all along. I’m not saying I don’t like the Poipu area. I do. And love the Sheraton. Our stay has been scrumptious.
But man, you want to feel like you’re driving through Jurassic Park, you stay up in the north shore somewhere. Wild, verdant, unkempt — lush jungles, cerulean bay, mammoth trees, and green green green. (Pictures surely forthcoming.)
Oh, did I mention that we saw the massive ficus trees that were home to the dinosaur eggs in Jurassic Park? True. Actually saw some of the sites where Pirates of the Caribbean 4 (why are they making a fourth film? who the hell knows) was filmed, too.
Where was I?
Gorgeous. Exactly what I had envisioned of Kauai before getting here. Again: South Shore is great, it’s hot and dry and we have a room on the ocean, but the north shore (reportedly the home of… Puff the Magic Dragon?) has that feel of old, jungley Hawaii.
Wandered the Limahuli Gardens.
Went to the Kilauea Lighthouse which — well, the lighthouse itself wasn’t any big thing (under reconstruction), but the views? Oh, mama. And that area is also a bird sanctuary, so you get those giant frigatebirds with the 7-foot-wingspans? Aka, feathered pterodactyls? Also: nenes. Tropical geese. Finally got close to the nene. That sounds like a metaphor for something — but it’s not.
Remember, all Hawaiian songs are secretly singing about vaginas.
Ate dolphin tacos, too. Mmm. Squeaky dolphin meat. With beer!
Ended our day at 22 North, a farm-to-table joint that was, by far, our best dinner on the island so far. The filet was so perfect, so tender, so stone’s-throw-from-rare. Had a African blue basil and Java plum “mojito” (not-a-mojito), and a starfruit caipirinha. Guh. Drool. Gibber! Pants off! Tasty drunken dance!
And the Phillies lost.
They just didn’t seem to have the spirit in this post-season, so, y’know. Good game, Giants. You’re probably going to get Cliff Lee’s fastball up your poop chute, just so you know. (Really, though, I don’t have a horse in that race. Whoever wins, wins. Feels like this series is lacking a narrative — Yankees vs. Phils would’ve had a narrative. Phils vs. their old pitcher would’ve been a narrative. Eh well.)
Today? An easy day of chill.
But soon, soon we leave.