longer holidays we've had where we've stayed in one place. When we
fly out on Monday evening from Honolulu, we will have been in Hawaii
for two weeks, on Kauai for 12 days. We've stayed here on Kauai
before for two weeks. It was worth it then. It has almost been worth
It has been warm and lovely each day. Each day it has rained, but
almost every day we have been able to lie on our beach towels in the
sunshine as well; such is the way of Kauai, known for being the
wettest place on earth.
Each morning we have awoken to the sounds of the surf pounding the
shoreline 20 yards from our pillows. Doves and frogs burble in the
trees outside. There's the traffic I mentioned earlier. But we have
grown more accustomed to it.
Almost every morning one or both of us has got up, made the coffee or
tea, and watched whales breaching, puffing, slapping and fluking their
way across in front of our cabin. The tour boats are usually there
with them too. Sometimes not.
Each day we've watched the clouds or the vog cover the sky, but each
day the sun has battled through.
Each afternoon we have retired to our deck to read and to sup a frozen
concoction blended with fresh pineapple and coconut milk.
Most nights (let's see: nine out of eleven?) we have fired up the
barbecue and grilled a steak or some chicken: a luxury we are not
afforded at home.
Each night we have watched the sun disappear into a flare of red and
gold, always into the low-lying clouds toward Polynesia. We have been
here so long that the sun has been setting slightly more north in the
sky each night, and is now setting behind Ni'ihau, a small island off
the South West corner of Kauai. Or rather, it would be if it wasn't
usually descending into the clouds.
Most days we have been able to swim in the ocean. We have snorkeled
off Poipu and Salt Pond and seen a breathtaking array of colourful
tropical fish, as one does here.
Tonight we walked on the beach under the stars and came across a large
wedding party stretched out across the beach to the water; 4x4 trucks
and giant white lights glaring across the broad expanse of otherwise
empty beach. It was surreal. The bride danced in the sand with her
beau, illuminated with tiki lantens jammed into the sand, Big surf
crashed to shore, illuminated in the lights, and little crabs, like
flashes of light, zipped across the sand in front of us, as we walked
We are not sure if we'll be back to Kauai. Like everything in this
world, it changes. Not always for the better. We change too. And
with those changes come new horizons and new thoughts.