The Big Island -- Getting There

The flight from Baltimore to Phoenix, Arizona (the first leg of our trip to the Big Island of Hawai’i) left at 7am on Saturday, December 20. We stayed at the Sheraton near the airport Friday night so that we could just roll out of bed in the morning, hop the airport shuttle, and leave the car until we returned in a few weeks. Much easier than getting up at 3am and driving in the hopes of making it to the airport on time; I’m always eagerly happy to alleviate any amount of stress during the adventures of travelling.

Made the flight on time, but was sad to find out that when the refreshment carts rolled around, we were asked to PAY for drinks and food. This was so different from my flights to and from France; on those flights, everything was gratis (yes, I know I probably paid for it somewhere, but still . . .). We had delicious meals with bread and cheese and wine and even Champagne on the return trip. And now, here I’m finding I am asked to pay $7.00 for a half sandwich and a few pieces of fruit. Sad, sad, sad.

But I digress. The first leg was a little over six hours, with the second running about seven hours. Elliott was surprisingly easy to keep busy as he had just received a PSP game system from his grandparents the night before for Hanukah. I found it hard to sleep in those cramped seats and wished the whole row would clear out so that I could stretch out and snooze. A little stress arose when the pilot announced that we were running a bit late and that those of us going on to Hawai’I may have a run to make the connection.

Run we did, and we made the connection with just minutes to spare. On the next flight, I mused about how we had gotten to the point of taking such a big trip as a family. A friend from my Fellowship owns a house in Pahala, on the K’au side of the island. (After being there for a few days, I called it the “wild” side because it was so far away from the resort side and we could drive for miles and not meet another car. That, and the fact that the Kilauea volcano exploded again as early as April of this year.) Anyway, my friend mentioned the house, she had taken a friend with her, and he showed me a picture of the volcano and the seed was planted in my head.

I do things rather spontaneously, though I do like some planning, but for some reason, I knew we had to go to Hawai’i. The fact that the house was off the beaten track helped; I love staying at a resort as much as the next person, but you really don’t get the flavor of where you are visiting by staying in a hotel or resort. You’re shown only a certain side of the place unless you choose to travel outside the resort. By staying in a village with mostly permanent residents, we would be in the mix. I liked that idea.

So, almost as soon as I got back from Europe, we worked on getting this trip together. Quite a few people were surprised that we opted to bring Elliott along, thinking it would be a romantic getaway, but it was never a question for us. We knew he would love it; he’s a beach boy at heart.

When we got to the Kona International Airport, we were happily surprised to find an almost quaint airport; we disembarked via air steps (last time that happened was in Mexico) and the airport was mostly open air. What a refreshing change from endless glass walls and monotonously long hallways!

Retrieving our baggage, I jokingly asked where the Hawai’ian girls were with the leis who are supposed to greet us when we land. Too many viewings of Elvis Presley’s “Blue Hawai’I” have jaded me. Alas! That tradition is no longer.

After our bags had been fetched, Elliott and I grabbed lighter shirts and went to find a place to change. As we met up again and turned the corner to meet up with Gary, there he was with leis for the both of us. How wonderful! The beautiful scents washed over us and I finally felt we had arrived.

We rented a convertible car for the trip, so, with top down, we started our trip to the house in Pahala. We drove by coffee plantations, art studios, surf shops, macadamia nut plantations, rain forests, and too many flowering plants to count. Up and up we went and our ears popped. The scents were delicious, the sun warm, and the surf was up.

The house in Pahala was perfect; we pulled in under the carport, and settled in. A large yard surrounded the house, with springy, yes, springy, grass in the yard. It felt like you could bounce on it. Flowering and fruiting trees in the back yard drew us in with the colors and aromas. Pahala is a small town, with a mixture of folks, but since Hawai’I is made up of a variety of people, we were not surprised.

We had done some grocery shopping just south of Pahala on the way to the house and suffered from a bit of sticker shock until we realized that most of the items we picked up had to be shipped from somewhere else. The fresh fruits and some meats were very inexpensive, surprisingly. We picked up a loaf of Hawai’ian bread, which proved to be the beginning of a sweet addiction. The local bakery there in Naalehu, called the Punalu’u Bakery, bakes fresh every day a wonderfully delicious bread that they shape into long loaves, rolls, or buns. They also bake buttery shortbread cookies enhanced with amazing flavors of banana, coconut, coffee, ginger, guava, passion fruit, and pineapple. Here’s their website in case you’re interested in some of their goods: www.bakeshophawaii.com

That night, groceries unpacked and luggage stowed, we snuggled down in our beds. We all had a hard time sleeping, not just because we were in a new place, but because we knew that we were in a very special place and blessed to have the opportunity to spend time here discovering the Big Island’s rugged beauty and sultry charm.

Next: Black Sand Beach, Yellow Butterflies, and Green Turtles