Hawaii day 5

July 28

We meant to pack before going to bed last night, but yesterday's fun lasted until around midnight and we went to bed without doing so. Our room was scattered with items this morning that needed to be closed up in their proper suitcases. We had much to do when we awoke and time seemed to be running too fast. Razelle enjoyed her scrambled eggs (bought from Ken's House of Pancakes the night before and reheated in the microwave) while I packed. We got everything into the car and then I went to settle our bill. I finally got to meet Penne. She had had the impression we were staying one more night, so she promised to return the extra charge to our account within the next three days. We thanked her for a wonderful stay at Aaron's Cottage. We will never forget our experiences here.

We drove into Hilo and filled the car's tank with gas while it rained on us. During the short drive to the airport the rain stopped. I unloaded Razelle and our luggage at the curb and a porter appeared to take Razelle and the luggage to the check-in counters. This was more convenient than trying to wrestle with carts and all the logistics this would have entailed. The porter had no set fee. Razelle paid him a bit more than a cart would have cost.

I returned the car without complications and found Razelle waiting for me in her wheelchair. We headed for security, but first I had to drink the can of energy drink I had with me before we could go through. The shoes-off routine was not a surprise to Razelle this time, but she still needed to be inspected thoroughly by two female security officers. They had a sense of humor and Razelle was in rare form. She entertained them with her life story and they came out from behind the screens all smiles. I don't imagine we'll find that pleasant of an experience with security anywhere else ahead on this trip. We're counting down the airports left by now. Not counting this one we have only three more airports left to take off from: Honolulu, New York and London.

Razelle had no water with her when we boarded the plane and had to buy a bottle for 2 dollars from the steward just so she could take a pill against the effects of the altitude. There was no provision on this plane for a small paper cup with a little water in it. This was, after all, a domestic flight. "Nothing free here, Madam. This is not an international flight," the steward said.

I got to see the topography of the big island out the windows as we flew past it and to review the places we'd been. In about half an hour we were back in Honolulu. We walked down a ramp onto the tarmac and a huge Daniel-type ethnic Hawaiian man wheeled Razelle ahead of me. The cost of carts here is off-putting. We stacked the bags near the door and watched for a shuttle from our car rental agency to come by and stop for us. The driver helped me wrestle the bags into his bus, and we continued around the airport picking up more passengers and their luggage. Two oversized bags looked like body bags to me. I joked with their owner about that. He said the bags contained golf clubs. Of course golf clubs! How interesting that I from the Middle East first thought of body bags?

The car I rented here is smaller. It's a compact orange hatchback. The seats fold down to make it into a tiny station wagon. I don't care much for it; the luggage just fit in the back. We used the GPS to navigate Honolulu traffic and reach our hotel in Waikiki. This is a fancy shmancy city here; lovely landscape, tall modern buildings, trolley cars and sightseeing buses. Streeeeetch limmmmozines! Homeless people and well-heeled tourists. Lots of tourists. The tourists are more fascinating than the city itself. Our hotel has valet parking. We couldn't check in for several hours so our bags were stored by a concierge. This place was like the hotels in Fiji we were glad we hadn't booked into, yet here we were doing just that in Honolulu. We had no choice. The money had already been spent the moment I made the reservation.

We put several vital items into our back packs and left our luggage with the concierge, then ventured out to pass time exploring Honolulu for food and maybe a Wi-Fi hotspot. I discovered that the street our hotel is on is THE main drag of Waikiki. Fashion houses line the street. We looked at the menu of a Hard Rock Café, and moved on. A mall we came to had several food courts in several linked galleries on several different floors. We tired of searching and settled for what was at hand. Razelle couldn't walk any further. We had spinach and mushroom pizza.

When enough time had elapsed we returned to our hotel. Along the way Razelle found some souvenirs to buy. We learned that our room was ready; a corner penthouse on the top floor with view of the ocean and another of the Honolulu skyline. Not too shabby! Our bags arrived after us. Razelle tipped the bell hop. We were out of our element, but we'd adjust. I discovered that I could surf the Internet. I called the front desk to find out what the charge for this would be. Free Internet comes with the penthouse. That alone made adjusting to this place a pleasant prospect.

Razelle had no energy left for more exploring. She remained in the room while I went out again to find a florist. Razelle wants to bring our hosts for Shabbat tomorrow some flowers. I found a public parking garage and learned that our valet parking cost was comparable. I wandered into the Hilton Hawaiian Village complex. This "Hawaiian village" (such audacity to call it that!) was even glitzier than our hotel was. Shops of every kind a proper tourist resort must have were here. I found the florist shop; all it sold were orchid corsages and leis made out of real blossoms. This Honolulu was too much of a dreamland for me. I found a MacDonald's on the way back to our hotel and brought Razelle some food she could eat.

We can't wait to see other parts of Oahu. Honolulu is too much.

Hawaii day 4

July 27

I awoke today to hear the call of a northern cardinal, a red bird with a crest on its head. I know its song and I can imitate it fairly well myself. It is the state bird of Ohio, for one. I had learned that cardinals were an introduced species in Hawaii. I followed the sound and saw my first cardinal in the USA on this trip, far from where I'd expected. I wonder how they got here? While watching the cardinal for a few moments, I saw a mongoose skulkily scurrying along the roadside ditch. This is an introduced species, too. How amazing is that, to take in a mongoose and a cardinal with the same gaze? It comes with the privilege of waking up in Aaron's Cottage in Hilo, Hawaii.

This morning I drove off to the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Gardens by myself, as Razelle agreed I should do, provided I bring her back a meal from Ken's House of Pancakes on my return. Fair enough. The botanical gardens are about 8 miles west of Hilo, down a scenic road off the highway. This time I made a point to stop at an overlook I'd passed yesterday. No one was there this morning, while yesterday no space was available among the cars already there. The small cove at this turnout just begged to be photographed. I obliged it.

I parked at the botanical gardens and went into the gift shop to thumb through the botanical books they were selling. This quick procedure always helps me familiarize myself with the topic before I get lost in a garden of new plants I've never seen before. I then walked up to the clerk to pay for an entry ticket. She remembered me from yesterday (which I found flattering), when I had stood before her to ask if my disabled wife could sit in the air-conditioned gift shop while I visited the gardens. Since there was no place for Razelle to sit, we didn't stay. Today I asked the clerk how many faces she must have seen yesterday and why out of all of them she remembered mine? She laughingly said she didn't know the answer. Every sentence she spoke was followed by a laugh; another one of the ways (I've discovered) that Americans serving other Americans disarmingly charm the people they must take money from.

The gardens are very impressive. Once you get to the bottom of the bridge and enter the landscaped gully you find an explanation of how these gardens got here. It was a labor of love that took years of dedicated work by a retired couple to assemble. I saw evidence of this all around. After about an hour of stopping and photographing one tropical plant more breathtaking than the last, I realized that these people were as obsessed with tropical plants as are some people I know in Israel who have impressive cactus collections. This is what comes of a hobby that outgrows the bounds of a backyard. The collection is so exemplary that school groups come here on field trips and are admitted free of charge to encourage learning.

I spent two hours in the gardens. Someone took my picture next to what I thought was a prayer plant (I was mistaken; it was a close relative – a zebra plant). This was important to me because I bought a prayer plant for my sister Miriam during my last visit to Toledo to help her recover from her cancer treatments. Seeing such a plant here had significance to me for that reason.

I kept my promise to Razelle and bought her her lunch at Ken's. She was grateful to have this meal and ate it with gusto.

At 3:05 PM I double-checked the note Jo Jo gave me with the time our tour was to leave for Mauna Kea. I was sure it was supposed to be at 3:30 PM, but to my horror I saw that it was 3:00 PM and we were already late. We quickly tossed a few important items into shoulder packs and raced out the door. Within 3 minutes we were at Arnott's Lodge, but our tour bus no longer was. However, Jo Jo was able to call it back, and when it showed up we sheepishly climbed aboard. Our guide and driver was Daniel. He is a large half-Hawaiian, half-Caucasian (his words) 28-year old man with four jobs: tour guide/driver, bouncer, singer, and Hawaiian language teacher in elementary school. He is licensed to administer CPR (he jokingly said he only administers it to women, though). He told us he had parkas against the cold for us and oxygen for altitude sickness, should anyone need it. Daniel is very good at this job and because of the vocabulary he taught us during this trip I am sure he is good at teaching Hawaiian. From the size of him, I wouldn't want to be the one he had to bounce out of a bar. He sang for us once at an altar that has cultural significance to Hawaiians and his singing voice was very nice to hear.

We stopped at a waterfall before leaving Hilo. Daniel used our camera to take a picture of us with "no evil" our stuffed toy monkey. He was amused. He's seen many a stuffed toy included in photos before, but this was his first monkey.

We paused at the saddle (alt ~6,000 ft) between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea where the Hawaiian religious altar I mentioned is located. Before we could ascend Mauna Kea, Daniel asked us to bow our heads reverently while he sang a traditional prayer of supplication in the Hawaiian language. We also paused here to become acclimated to the high altitude.

Our next stop was the visitors' center at ~9,000 ft. As we piled out of the tour bus I noticed some young men walking around with fringes hanging out of their shirts and skull caps on their heads. It didn't register immediately that this was unusual; I've seen this often enough back home in Israel. But we were not in Israel! We were half way up a remote volcano in the middle of the big island of Hawaii! Razelle and I introduced ourselves. We found out that these guys come from many different cities around the US to attend a Chabad summer camp in Kona on the big island. While we were adjusting to the altitude at this visitors' center, one of them brought me a pair of phylacteries (tephillin) so I could pray with them. They get to you, even up here! I declined, but I did offer to pray the evening prayers (mincha and ma'ariv) with them around sunset, if possible.

They were selling Milky Way candy bars in the visitors' center. It wasn't at all by coincidence. I bought one. They were also selling specially filtered glasses for viewing eclipses. I bought two of these.

We next drove to the top of Mauna Kea, we being an entire parade of buses and cars. Some of these cars had no business using this road; rental agencies forbid it, but their drivers didn't seem to care. At the top we parked and learned the identity of the different domes and structures.





In the distance, we saw other mountain peaks poking above a sea of clouds; one such distant peak was the highest part of the neighboring island of Maui! The highest peak of Mauna Kea was not the one we stood on, but one just beside it. The group of Chabad youth climbed up that peak to the site of the Hawaiian religious altar, to say their evening prayers. Daniel was pleased to see that the sacred altar was serving as a prayer site. I took a picture of them up there. I call the photo, "The Minyan on the Mount."

Razelle felt unwell up there and was quite concerned about it. Daniel didn't seem worried, though. He'd seen far worse on other trips. Razelle has never experienced this sort of thing before so she was easily agitated by it. Daniel brought out an oxygen tank and mask for her. She fought back tears as she inhaled deeply; she felt much better in a short while.

As the sun set I felt cold enough to request a parka. The weather was still and crystal clear. It was 39°F up there (about 4°C); as cold as winter had been in Australia. Daniel said visibility was the best he'd seen in some time. It was exciting to be nearly 14,000 feet above the ocean at that moment. It was the highest place on the planet Razelle has ever been.

Half an hour after sunset, we were required to leave the mountain top. We descended to just above the visitors' center to receive an astronomy lesson from Daniel. He taught everyone the four cardinal directions in Hawaiian and then pointed out some of the key constellations in the sky. I have a background in teaching the constellations too, and just had a similar lesson on the night sky while in Australia. When we were asked to guess the identity of a planet he pointed at, I blurted out, "that's Saturn." Daniel was actually grateful to have me identify it, and the constellations Draco and Hercules too, when he traced them with his laser light. He claimed that this gave him legitimacy. In the past, groups he'd taught this stuff to thought he was making it up as he went. He thanked me.

At the visitors' center we lined up at the telescopes to look at Saturn, replete with its rings and several of its moons. It was the cap to a great experience. Razelle was very happy she'd agreed to come along.

On the way back to Hilo, Daniel played authentic Hawaiian music for us from a DVD. It is sung falsetto. One of the songs included his voice, so we got to hear him sing again.

Daniel is quite a guy.

Back in Hilo, we drove again to Ken's House of Pancakes. We ordered takeout pancakes for tomorrow's breakfast. For us, there is no other place to eat in Hilo. If you ever get there, try it and see what we mean.

Hawaii day 3

July 26

Today was to be our long-distance driving day, as far as that is possible in Hawaii. We set off from Aaron's Cottage at a reasonable hour. While preparing to leave I chatted with Aaron's father, Alan; a wonderfully affable fellow. He introduced me to a student who is boarding in one of the other rooms. We talked about the disappointment I'd had trying to book an excursion over the phone to the top of Mauna Kea. They told me that the neighboring B&B, Arnott's Place, also offers such tours and that I should try to book one with them by just walking right next door. Jo Jo at the booking desk is a bubbly teenager who was really excited to meet an Israeli when I approached her desk. Sure enough, they offer such tours, and for Razelle and me they were willing to add a second vehicle, and give us a discount price, no less, because Aaron's mother Penne is their bookkeeper. Razelle met Jo Jo and was convinced by her that it was worth the risk when Jo Jo mentioned that they took up oxygen tanks for whoever needed them.

Razelle wanted pancakes for breakfast. I programmed the GPS to take us to the nearest pancake house in Hilo, Ken's House of Pancakes. The parking lot was full, it is so popular, but one car started pulling out as I approached, so apparently my luck works here too. Inside, we found a really huge humming family-run diner. We were seated and handed a menu. My Gawd, the number of choices! Ken's never closes, and you can get everything there from chop-stick fare to chili; stews to sundaes, pancakes to pork pies – and they have a nice selection of vegetarian dishes. Razelle ordered their 2X4. This is two scrambled eggs and four pancakes. She thoroughly enjoyed her meal. I ordered Ken's Famous Macadamia Nut Pie, but they hadn't made any that morning so I passed on breakfast. I'd eaten a little something at Aaron's Cottage before we left, so I wasn't hungry. I did nibble some of Razelle's pancakes and they were indeed scrumptious. The other patrons in this place were of various degrees of corpulence. It was amazing to see how much food these people were able to pack away. The largest portion Ken's serves is called a sumo sized meal. Whenever anyone orders this, they ring a loud bell and shout out "SUMO." Very interesting and very educational for someone who, like Razelle and me, has lived outside this culture for so many years. We were amazed that some of these people could fit into their booths.

We had three objectives for this trip. One was to see a family-run vanilla plantation and factory; two was to visit a family-run Kona coffee plantation and processing business, and three was to drive back across the island from Kona to Hilo on the Saddle Road and maybe stop at the visitor's center at the 9000-foot level of the mountain. We drove along a scenic "tourist route" off the coastal road and discovered the Hawaiian Tropical Botanic Gardens. It was a place that appealed very much to me, but not to Razelle; and, besides, it wasn't entirely accessible for her. We drove on, but talked about me seeing it the following morning before our excursion to the top of Mauna Kea in the afternoon.

Our GPS was programmed to take us to the vanilla factory along the most picturesque sections of the north shore of the Big Island. I drove down a steep road to a small village, but the vanilla factory wasn't there. I was directed elsewhere by a local, but the vanilla factory wasn't there either. I gave up searching after a guy on a lawn-mowing tractor directed me to a third location and it wasn't there either. We drove on.

The farther west we drove along the coastal highway the more amazing the scenery became. Lots of construction though, and one of the signs referred to repair of cliff faces above the highway in preparation for the next earthquake. Oh, is that so? The road then cut inland across a plain of dried grass and prickly pear cactus. This was a shadow desert on the leeward side of Mauna Kea. It contrasted dramatically with the tropical environment we'd traversed up until now. It was very windy here when we stopped for gas. Only a short drive further on and we were in Kona coffee country and the air was thick with fog. We found the road leading up and up ever higher onto the slopes of the mountain where this coffee is grown. In the fog I made a wrong turn (my GPS had announced my arrival at my destination before I'd really reached it so I relied on my memory of this road from Google maps). I reprogrammed the GPS and reached the plantation where "Mountain Thunder" coffee is grown.

 Yes, Success! It was 3:40 PM. We sat at a picnic table and I sipped free coffee (Razelle had tea instead, made from a native Hawaiian plant they grow up there commercially). We watched a video clip from a TV show called "Dirty Jobs" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzYNNtIZu0o) that had been filmed here. At 4:00 PM the last guided tour set out. Me, myself and I were the only participants (Razelle stayed where she was and enjoyed her tea). It was very informative and because I showed an interested, more technical than the usual tour. Razelle and I were the last customers of the day in the shop on the premises. We had a warm and wonderful time talking with the proprietor. He sells his coffee all over the world, including Israel, and even has a Kaf-K heksher (certificate of Kashrut) on display in a prominent position on the wall above his products.

We drove down off the coffee plantation mountain and headed for the Saddle Road. The sun was getting lower in the sky as we climbed ever higher toward the pass between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, the pair of (usually) dormant volcanoes that formed most of this island. The fog we'd experienced earlier below again met us part way up, then cleared up entirely above a certain elevation. High above, on the top of Mauna Kea, the white domes of the astronomical observatories glowed in the pink and violet light of sunset. I can understand why this place was chosen for those observatories; the air was so sharp and clear up here. The road in the middle of the island was a pleasure to drive on, but at either ascent/descent the road was in bad shape. We reached Hilo in the dark, again after entering fog and rain in Hilo. We pulled into Ken's House of Pancakes. This evening I tried their vegetarian chili: too much mesquite for my palate and not enough tomato. Their French fries, on the other hand were delicious.

Another full day in Hawaii came to an end; a day spent sampling most of this island's different climate regions. We returned to Aaron's Cottage in the dark, satiated from Ken's cooking and from our experiences on our Hawaiian road trip. Notch up another good day of exploring Hawaii and, in the process, American culture, too.

Hawaii day 2

July 25

Finally, after two Sundays in a row, we awoke to a Monday.

We spent the morning pouring over the travel pamphlets and brochures we had gotten at Hilo airport, to plot our touring strategy and course of action for the next few days. We decided to start with Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.

Before we set out we checked out the kitchen of Aaron's Cottage. Slices of a delicious home-made cake were under a glass cake dish, pieces of the ripest juiciest pineapple I'd ever tasted with whole cherries and strawberries were in a covered fruit bowl over ice. Milk was in the fridge and English muffins were in a bag on the counter. Several types of breakfast cereals in single-serving boxes were laid out and instant oatmeal packets were next to them. The list goes on, but you get the idea. Breakfast could be whatever you chose to take or make for yourself in whatever quantity you wanted. Very nice! You could also take what you liked back to the refrigerator in your room to eat later.

The drive to the National Park was interesting. Even though we were on a tropical island in the Pacific Ocean, the vegetation was entirely different from what grew in Fiji. We saw one species of plant in particular with large yellow flower stalks that may have been either a type of orchid or ginger. I still had much to learn about these tropical plant families. Dense stands of bamboo also lined the road. We climbed steadily in elevation without really perceiving this, other than feeling our ears pop every once in a while. Every 500 feet higher in elevation we saw a sign announcing the fact. The road was wide and smooth and had paved shoulders on either side. It was so much like driving in America (because it was) and so different from the roads in Australia (where leaving the pavement required waiting for turnoffs for that purpose) and Fiji (where the road was not smooth or wide or safe to leave the pavement).

At the park entrance we were instructed to pay a $10 entrance fee, go into the visitor's center and show proof of Razelle's permanent disability and US citizenship or residency, so we could get a card for free admission for the disabled to all the parks in the system (including this one), then to drive back and go through the gate a second time with this card to be given back the $10 we just paid. Inside the visitors center I found a group of three "greeters" in ranger's getup behind a desk who were explaining the points of interest of this park to visitors. When I asked the first one available about acquiring this card she had no idea what I was talking about (it wasn't part of her training course, apparently). She sent me to the gift shop where I was sent back to the trio of greeters in ranger's getup. My temper was rising, but I held it in check. A more veteran ranger was sent for, who was more than happy to produce the clipboard with the form Razelle signed. The card was handed to us, and since the distance back to the entrance gate was so inconsequential I walked back. The reception there was a rude one. I was told not to approach on foot. I had to go back to my car and drive through. I started to walk back than wondered whether this required me to go through with Razelle in the car or not. Before I could ask that question I received redoubled rudeness and a refusal to even hear the question. I got the question out, nonetheless. Razelle didn't have to be in the car. I walked back to the car drove through, received the refund and said nary a word when the woman said cheerily, just as she was trained, "welcome to the park, enjoy your visit, have a nice day..." or something to that effect, as if the incident had never happened. I filed a signed complaint in the visitor's center.

Inauspicious as this introduction to the park system was, we enjoyed the rest of our stay. We hardly had time to cruise around the information center when the same helpful ranger who produced the clipboard announced that in five minutes she would be leading a guided walk to the rim of the crater. I persuaded Razelle to join this walk. It was very educational.

Nicole introduced herself to the group. She is in college student studying botany. Nicole tailored her delivery to suit her mixed audience of children and adults who didn't necessarily have any background. She had a collection of colorful cards for illustration, and many interesting anecdotal stories and facts to share with us at each station along the way.

There is something "Sesame-Street-ish" about how Americans provide other Americans with information, in a way that is meant to avoid offending anyone's intelligence, just in case they are ignorant of the facts. This is my observation after being away from America for so many years. Nicole employed this technique in a disarmingly sweet way. I wonder if I could ever learn to talk that way (or ever should).

We arrived at the edge of a volcanic crater after a short distance and several stops, so Razelle had no trouble coping. It was an overcast day so the light for photographing it poor. After everyone returned to the visitors' center, Nicole, Razelle and I chatted about lots of things. Nicole found our advice helpful and she got some books for me to look at that had answers to questions she herself didn't know. I filed a written commendation on Nicole's behalf and wish her luck in this career. It was a bucket list item I fulfilled long ago when I worked for the Nature Protection Society in Israel with young women just like Nicole. I a part of me misses that career, but life unfolds as it should (Desiderata), doesn't it?

We then drove down the Chain of Craters Road to the edge of the ocean and beyond a sign that let us know we were in a tsunami risk zone (just in case we wanted to turn back!), in time for sunset. Razelle and I posed at a natural arch in the sea cliff while someone took our picture.

Razelle actually crossed an expanse of hardened lava flow just to reach the edge. The actual "end of the road" is close to a mile beyond a traffic barrier.


Many people were walking out there so I followed their cue. It's the end of the road because a lava flow crossed the pavement during an eruption in the 1980s. It took longer than I had expected to reach the end and return, by which time it was very dark outside.

  
When I reached Razelle she was standing in the road with her arms akimbo. She had been crying. She was afraid something had happened to me. She thought I was in a dangerous place, called a "bench" (an unstable section of hardened lava at the water's edge that could have slid into the sea at any moment without warning). We had been warned about these at the visitors' center and Razelle had this message in her head when I was slow to return. I wasn't in such a place, but in the dark she couldn't tell where I'd gone. She hissed, "Supermarket!" several times. It hadn't occurred to me that setting up both phones so we could call each other would not work everywhere we went. There was no phone reception down there. I told her I'd gotten some great shots of the scenery out there, but she just answered, "Supermarket" again. (You may recall this is a reference to an earlier incident in Alice Springs.)

Back up to the top of the road and around the crater's rim, we reached the best feature of the park, which we'd saved for last: the glow-in-the-dark caldera of a living volcano. Different visitors to this park at different times have told us how exciting it is to see this. For us, it was not exciting, but more of a contemplative Zen moment. There was no spewing lava nor were there flames dancing in the air; just a warm blood-red glow reflected off the walls of the crater and onto the steam emanating from deep below.

The glowing heart of the earth we live upon, and that Razelle and I are circling on this trip, is down there. It is vital and well, and we could sense that, as we watched the cloud of steam throb with the pulse of mother earth. If only the other visitors up there that night could have appreciated this moment properly and not have spoiled it with their flashlights, camera lights and headlights. It was cold up there. I stayed as long as the cold was bearable, then walked back to find Razelle sitting on her crutch-seat inside a phone booth to stay out of the wind. Very cleaver, Razelle!

We returned to Hilo in time to find a fast food place. It was nearly closing time but they let us in. The French fries and onion rings had been prepared in oil that had fried too many potatoes and onions by the end of that day. They weren't appetizing, but we were hungry. We are on a steep learning curve in the USA, but we are making notes for future reference on what not to eat when.

Back at Aaron's Cottage we turned off our lights and the glow of the day's activities stayed with us until we fell asleep, which didn't take long.