Go Westie: Part 1

Admittedly, our posting pace has been flagging recently. Unfortunately, your beloved today's blogspot crew has been engaged occupationally and otherwise of late. However, to bridge the blog gap, here are some excerpts from an unfinished, relatively unedited travel piece I started ages ago. It's about a trip around the outside of Hawaii's big island in a white Westfalia pop-top.

Mahalo.


HILO, HAWAII— I had seen the travel commercials and heard the tales from resort-friendly acquaintances. I had expectations of Hawaii.

I expected to see acres of sunburned flesh. I thought I’d swim in kidney-shaped pools under false waterfalls, frolicking in adults-only grottoes with either overfriendly or overly uncomfortable strangers. I was ready to snorkel in false lagoons ringed by false beaches and filled with multitudinous varieties of tropical fish, eels, and sea turtles. With a little web research, I learned that I had two in-resort transportation options other than my trusty flip-flops. I could make use of the resort’s track-constrained fleet of Swiss-made river boats. Or I could take the monorail. That’s right, the monorail. I knew that my hotel lobby would contain not one, but two sad-looking but well-trained show parrots, which would perform on command, but otherwise largely ignore the almost constant harassment from newly-arrived guests. I knew that Day-glo sunglasses, thong bikinis, Swe-Thai massage, fourteen dollar Ahi burgers with taro chips, luaus, an army of professional smiles, silk shirts, and all too many leis were in the offing.

I expected and took part in all of the above during my three odd days spent at this empire on the edge, this gated community of septuagenarian bliss on the coast, the Waikoloa Hilton.

And then I broke free.

After three days of pre-ordained pleasure and passivity, Me and my two travelling companions were prepared to take on Hawaii`s big island the way it was meant to be done— in a Volkswagen Camper van.



Our plan was simple. We aimed to circumnavigate the isle in five days, hit most of the major sights, and end up back in Hilo in time to lose the van and catch our flight home. The circumnavigation is no epic feat. In fact, the whole circuit can be completed in less than a day of straight driving, but that wouldn’t have fit with the Hawaiian ethos of our mission. We wanted to take our time, to take it easy. In the parlance of the local surf scene, to hang loose. We booked most of our camping permits ahead of time, mostly out of fear of having to beat out the hordes of holidaymakers that populated the Hawaii of my pre-trip imagination. We carefully plotted each site to minimize travel time, but at about $20 per permit, and with a bed on wheels, we weren`t too bothered.

To be continued...