ALOHA! Considering the general state of the world, and the U.S. in particular, we’re pretty darn lucky. We’re still alive, not yet completely decrepit, blessed with good friends, and reaping the meager rewards of decades of living below our means. So, party till you drop! We just got back from a week in Maui, at the Wailea Elua condos just below Kihei (southwestern shore). We were “helping” our old friends, Chuck and Alice, to celebrate their 40th anniversary. We had the good fortune to introduce them all those decades ago, and have enjoyed the benefits ever since. They “won” the bidding at a charity event for this private condo, which was absolutely super. Of course, we’ll go; what are friends for, eh? (Chuck’s a transplanted Canuck.) The above photo looks north towards the Lahaina/Kaanapali end of the island, and shows part of the walk path that runs for a mile or so in front of the beachfront resorts and condo developments, including ours. Loni and I rolled out early each morning on the path to take our daily speedwalk, and what a setting.
The condos occupy 24 acres of beautiful grounds, stretching from the sand up to the main road leading in.
Yes, we could get used to this! Groundskeepers scurried around constantly removing any fallen leaf or frond. Everything was immaculate. The condo itself was perfect. I guesstimate our 2br 2ba to be about 900 sq. ft., and it felt very spacious. This is part of the living room looking towards the dining room; kitchen (better equipped than our own) is to the left of the dining room.
It had a large lanai-balcony from which we could see the ocean horizon and the island of Lanai (to the right, below).
Our flights over & back were on American, probably my least favorite airline due to their historical culture of being in the forefront of screwing passengers every way possible, thanks to former CEO’s Casey and Crandall.
We decided to cram everything for the both of us into one suitcase to minimize the checked bag charge at $25. We did take carry-ons, but made sure they fell within the limits set out on American’s website. We needn’t have bothered. They were letting steamer trunks on as hand luggage. The idiocy of a checked-bag fee combined with lax or no enforcement of carry-on restrictions should be profoundly evident to even the dim bulbs at American, but I guess not. It was amusing to watch those who boarded after us try to force oversized valises into already-stuffed overhead compartments. It wouldn’t have been so funny had we boarded after them. That being said, I really can’t say that I have any complaints about the flights. They left and arrived on time, the plane was reasonably clean, and the attendants were seasoned pros. Actually, one was the most, er, mature attendant that I’ve ever seen. Keep on truckin' gal, keep on truckin.’ The movies were lame (“How Do You Know”) to unbearable (“Gulliver’s Travels”). I watched the first, if only to break up the 5 1/2 hour flight, but had to turn off the second. Awful. They did have a very decent jazz channel, and with the Sennheiser noise-canceling earphones it actually sounded quite nice. I switched to my iPod Touch later and it sounded even better.
Landing at Kahului,
we collected our bags and jumped on the shuttle to the Budget car rental. I’d gotten a decent deal using Cosco’s links, which saved us the “extra driver” daily fee of $13. Budget proclaims that it features Fords, and trumpets the Fusion in its ads, it being the “full” size car it pictures. Having had one of these when we visited the Big Island a couple of years ago, we opted for it again. Not. Despite their ads, despite having “reserved” that specific car, oops, Budget doesn’t even own any Fusions on the whole island. So, we got “upgraded” to a full size car: a Mercury Grand Marquis, only inches shorter than the Queen Mary, just as maneuverable, with unlaughable gas mileage.
Uncomfortable seats front and rear. The only saving grace was we could get our luggage for four into it with careful squishing, despite the trunk largely being occupied by a full-size spare. The design of this boat predates Ford’s current nascence, and it truly is a child of the 80’s. I mounted our GPS (carefully toted from home) and we took off. Uh oh, red light glowing from the dash, but absolutely no indication what it is for. Not wanting to risk being charged for a new engine, we circled back and informed the nice girl at the desk. She came out, puzzled a while, looked in vain for the manual, went over to another copy of the heap, played around there, came back and cheerfully announced that it was no problem. The other one did it too. What is it? Dunno, but don’t worry about it. Oh, kay. I noted it on the damage checklist for our car, relying on that to shift the blame if we fried something. We wound our way south to the condo and settled in. A quick trip to the market for essentials (read: booze). The sun definitely was over the yardarm in Los Angeles, so we welcomed ourselves to paradise.
We first visited Maui with C&A over 35 years ago. None of this development was here then. Kihei was almost the end of the road. Time has changed all that, but one tradition remains from that visit: home made ersatz pina coladas! Coconut flavored rum, pineapple juice, crushed ice, and vanilla ice cream. Blend well. It slides down. Oh yes, it slides down. This scene was to be repeated throughout our week. And thank you to the condo owner for stocking an incredible array of glassware.
My main objective here was to snorkel every day and, except for arrival day, we accomplished that, even on departure day. The beach right in front of our place was a gorgeous crescent of sand, with a rocky jetty that segued into a decent coral reef that went out quite far.
Notice the windmills snaking up the old volcano to the north. It’s the Kaheawa Wind Farm, consisting of 20 windmills, each 180 feet tall. I think it is a visual blight, but it’s claimed that they provide 9% of the island’s power needs, enough for 11,000 homes. Can’t argue with the need for alternative energy, but I wish they had painted them in browns, to blend in better.
Anyway, we established a pasties-only beachhead,
and decided to gear up with our “rashguard” shirts (for surfers, you know) with their 50-SPF rating to avoid burning our milky bodies while we snorkeled.
Yeah, yeah, hold the smirks. I look like a blue-footed Booby (Sula Nebouxii for youse Audibon types). At least I managed to find a mask that doesn’t fill with water, but I hated the mouthpiece of the snorkel. It felt like one of those “dam” thingies that dentists use these days when doing extensive work on you. I launched, and started exploring.
This is a nice reef, and there were plenty of fish to see, including whole schools just hovering motionless except for swaying back and forth in the wave surges. I have a thing for the weird tube fish, and there were a number of them. I managed to get into the rocky area, which is not a particularly bright idea, as the wave surges raised and lowered the water level by a couple of feet at a time, making navigating over shelves a little tricky. Timing is everything. My rash guard shirt wouldn’t help if I got dropped onto the reef. I was in a near fully enclosed pool, pondering my next move, when I glanced to my right and was almost eye to eye with a giant sea turtle. He/she was at least 3 feet long at the shell, and caught in the same enclosure as me. We swayed in the surges together, and I moved a few feet away so as not to get raked. It started to swim out and over a ridge, so I followed, fortunately on an upsurge. I then followed it through the rocks for a couple of minutes, before it finally went where I dared not. But it was quite an experience. On the way back I saw a large moray eel slithering into a hole, then popping its head back out and giving me the eye while its jaws were opening and closing. I kept my distance, and swam back to shore. As I was sloshing out, I met a guy who asked if there was anything good here. I assumed my best Cousteau impersonation, and gave him the benefit of my vast experience. Notice the enthralled audience. (Why are they all grinning?)
All this work takes it out of a guy. Fortunately, the condo boasted a very nifty library, and I found a Ruth Rendell that I hadn’t read. Let’s see, page 1, . . . .
I guess I’m at that age where an afternoon nap cannot be denied.
We spent 7 nights here, ate out 5 and grilled 2. There was a nice grill on the deck, so we bought some marlin steaks, veggies and potatoes and set to work. Couldn’t find the switch to the porch light, so the camping headband light came in handy to see how things were progressing.
And they progressed quite nicely, thank you. That’s a homemade orange pepper, cucumber, sweet onion and tomato salsa on top of the fish. Yum!
Chuck is an accomplished amateur photographer and had just purchased a new camera he wanted to try out on a sunrise over Haleakala. This is one of those must-do things when you visit Maui, but only once. We had all done it before, so Loni and I slept in while he and Alice got on the road at 4:30 a.m. It’s quite a drive, with a 10,000 foot elevation gain, so it takes a while. Can you imagine the gas that MGM pig was sucking on that climb? Yikes. Anyway, they had the good luck of hitting it on the only morning of the week when the peak wasn’t shrouded in clouds, and got some very nice shots. Here’s one:
While C&A were bagging these views, we moseyed on down to the beach to snag views of our own. The condo property owns a beautiful little point of land that is fenced off from the public by those hedges at the left.
They place lawn chairs out there so we poshies can lounge in comfort and watch the little people on the beach. Ah, so THIS is how the other half lives.
Although our little reef was fine, there are more spectacular places to snorkel around Maui. The diving guidebooks say that little Molokini, an almost entirely submerged volcanic half-cone a few miles off shore, provides the best snorkeling in all of the Hawaiian Islands. You can only get there by boat, so we signed on with the Boss Frog outfit to take us there. The trip leaves from Ma’alaea, which is up the coast, just about where the darker shadow mountain line reaches the sea in the picture above. Check-in was at 7:15 am, so we rolled out in the pigmobile at about 6:30. Good thing we did, as the parking was extremely limited since all the dive boats leave from this small harbor. We were on the “economy” cruise, so no double decker for us, just a basic boat.
It was more than adequate. The bigger boats serve a barbeque lunch, but the cold-cuts sandwich bar we had was just fine. They serve decent pastries, fruit and drinks on the way out. It took about an hour to get to Molokini, which is entirely unremarkable above the water. No trees or significant vegetation. But it’s shaped like a crescent, and the bay formed by the arms is sheltered from the prevailing winds and currents, resulting in relatively still, clear waters with average visibility of 100 feet. The boats all set out long anchor lines to stay in position, then we were off down the ladders and snorkeling in the cove. Molokini is the smaller dark island in the foreground; behind is Kahoolawe.
This was great stuff. Brilliant fish, a whopping moray eel, and pretty nice coral. The visibility was as advertised, which was pretty cool. We spent about an hour paddling around, which was plenty. Although the water isn’t cold, it was cool. Definitely not bath water. No underwater shots. We don’t have a waterproof camera, and opted not to spring for the $30 it cost to rent one from the boat. After we left Molokini and the other dive boats behind (above pic), we headed for one of the spots loosely described as “Turtletown.” I thought this was one specific location, but it turns out to be a meandering line that varied from 100 yards to 300 yards off the Kihei-Makaha shoreline, running parallel to it. The turtles for some reason congregate along that “path,” and there are “cleaning stations” where the remora feed off the detritus that clings to the turtle shells. We didn’t see any of that action, but we did see two turtles swimming along the bottom, which is two more than most people reported. These were about 30 feet below us, so not the close encounter I had with the one on our reef. All in all, the trip was well worth it and we’d recommend it if you have a free day. Cost us $60 each for a five hour excursion, including food.
We were pooped when we made it back to the condos, so we flopped down on the private point and just enjoyed the view. Ahhhhhhhhh.
We really got lucky in our choice of restaurants, and we ate them in the proper sequence. I had been taken aback a bit in researching the dining scene online, finding description after description of “expensive but once-in-a-lifetime worth it.” Hmmm, not for us. During one of our morning walks, we passed a signboard for one of the resorts down the beach that featured one of Puck’s “Spago” restaurants. The menu showed no appetizers below the high-20’s, and entrees ranging from $38 to $84. Double yikes. Sorry, but food just doesn’t taste that good, unless Thomas Keller is personally manning the range. Our body clocks were slowly adjusting from California time, so we were ready to eat at earlier hours anyway. Hey, early bird specials anyone? It appears that most of the standalone restaurants, not associated with a resort, have such deals, and we found that they were terrific. Full portions, no skimping.
Our first night we didn’t want anything fancy, as we were tired from the flight. We ended up at Alexander’s, which was billed as a fish ‘n chips place, but was much more. There is NO ambiance here, unless low-rent island shack is your thing. Do not be discouraged. Three of us opted for the grilled mahi plate (rice & veggie & salad). For TEN bucks (!) it was just fine. But the winner was Alice, who chose calamari strips. Good night! These were thick, tender, non-chewy, and delicious. Flip-flop your way here for the best low-cost meal on the island.
Our second nite we moved up a bit in style, and hit the early special at the Big Wave, with a two-for-one deal. So, for $25, we got two meals of excellent fish, substantial portions. A nice outdoor area to eat in, but again nothing fancy, although a definite step above Alexander’s on the ambiance scale. Like a lot of the restaurants in this area, Big Wave is in a strip mall, so there was plenty of parking.
After a home grilling nite, we opted the next evening to start getting a little fancy, and we hit a winner in the 808 Bistro. This place would be a bargain anywhere, but especially in a ridiculously priced resort area like Maui. We ate off the early bird menu, with three courses for $25! Even without the early (5-6pm) menu, the same dishes on the regular menu are hardly any more. My brined grilled pork chops ( boneless, thick, juicy, and perfectly cooked medium rare as ordered) with caramelized onions with fruit, were delicious. C&A loved their falling-off-the-bone braised shortribs. Both dishes came with garlic mashed and grilled asparagus, a generous mixed greens dinner salad and choice of dessert. We tried all three: sweet hawaiian bread pudding with ice cream, fudge brownie sundae, and two scoops of local-made ice cream. Oye. We were stuffed.
We liked the ambiance of this place, as it had a “Hawaiian” feel to it. Outdoors eating in a garden setting, either on an open air patio or under a covered lanai. We preferred the latter. We decided to make this our final night’s dinner spot as well.
In between, went to a superb restaurant called Cuatro. This place would be a standout anywhere. They serve sushi-grade fish in all their preparations, and the seared Ahi was melt-in-your-mouth succulent. We grinned our way through the entire meal. A nicely appointed place, again in a strip mall, but not as much Hawaiian ambiance as 808. More white tablecloth. This was undoubtedly the best dinner we had, and it would stand up foodwise to the best Los Angeles has to offer at any price. But, even they had an early special, so we delected while saving. Good wine list. It’s a small place, so reservations are almost a must. We got lucky and just walked in, but I wouldn’t count on that working.
Our last night, back at 808, we took advantage of their BYOB policy (they sell no alcohol, but encourage you to bring it). We didn’t want wine, but rather more pina coladas! But how to get them there? We had the will of the dedicated lush, so there had to be a way. I mixed up a couple of batches at the condo, found a funnel, and poured them into an empty Sprite mega-bottle that Chuck had finished (he’s our teetotaling driver). When we got there, we asked for an ice bucket, and voila! They brought glasses, and we poured scrumptious pc’s from the hilarious green bottle. We were the envy of all. Or, the object of ridicule. We didn’t care.
So, our adventure in paradise ended in an alcoholic stupor. But that’s one mental image I can live with. Aloha, and Mahalo!
No comments:
Post a Comment