My last post was about the northern half of Hawaii’s Big Island. I drove all around the thing that day — I just didn’t see a great deal of it, seeing as we got stuck in Hilo at dark and it is a long way back to Kona. (Loooong.) As this is not, say, Orlando, the major attractions are not spotlit and do not offer convenient on/off access. Essentially, it was a slog, and I had no idea what we were driving through/past/over/under.
Yesterday, I decided to try again — this time, earlier in the day. We started in the famous Kona coffee-growing district, just up the hill.
To give you a sense of just how drastic climate and landscape changes can be on this island, check out this shot, taken driving south into the town of Kailua-Kona, shortly before I turned on a hill road that cut up to the village of Holualoa, which is not famous, but it’s location is: right in the heart of the coffee belt.
Here’s the moon — this, the famous scenery as one drives up the Kohala Coast, is brought to you by flowing lava. Years ago.
Here’s the back garden at the Holualoa Cafe, just a short drive away. Unlike in, say, Phoenix, this greenery is actually native to the environment. There are no sprinklers on.
Kona coffee is considered amongst the finest in the world. It is grown in the hills above this Starbucks, where you will not find Kona coffee being served. In fact, you won’t find a lot of things that make sense about the town of Kailua-Kona. It’s the Waikiki of the Big Island — make that pre-makeover Waikiki. The latter’s now very swish, at least along the main drag. Kona’s just dumpy. I really, really dislike this town. Take any horrid tourist lure that you can think of, multiply the number of tour operator desks and t-shirt shops by 10, and take away any great beaches that might exist, and there you have it. I cannot imagine how anyone would return here more than once. I certainly shook the dust off of my feet.
This Catholic church down below the village of Captain Cook is famous for some reason — most people just call it the Painted Church.
That Painted Church overlooks the Pu’uhonau o Honaunau National Historical Park. This is a reconstructed beachfront site that was not only a residence for higher-ups, but also a place of refuge where lawbreakers could be absolved by priests.
This island, like much of Hawaii, can feel surprisingly homey, particularly for anyone used to that other remote state, Alaska, which often feels like the other end of the universe. That is not to say that there isn’t plenty of that crazy frontier vibe in certain towns on the Big Island. Basically, it works like this: You stop in (say, me, in the town of Pahala, at the Town Cafe). You wonder if it was such a good idea. The locals wonder the same thing. Two things though, that I loved about Pahala, historically a sugar producing town: One, loads of the old Hawaii-style plantation cottages, tin roofs and all. Two, this crazy road that leads into the rainy hills north of town. I had no idea where we were going, but it was awesome. The photo above is just one of about six completely unique landscapes we saw along the way.
Okay. Here we are. My second-favorite road on the Big Island (after the Kohala Mountain Road that I wrote about the other day). This is Route 137, which runs along the coast in the Puna District. The road used to run further — now it dead ends at the famous lava flows that have been spilling into the sea on and off for years. It’s really remote down here. A total jungle. I wish I’d come here earlier. Best of all: There is no one — I repeat — no one driving on this road.
I am nuts about this beach, which is part of the Isaac Hale county park, off of Route 130. When we first visited Hilo, I thought it was kind of tragic that the bay there wasn’t really beachy or even Hawaiian in feel. But with beaches like these nearby, who cares? Finally, I had found the Hawaii I was looking for. The water was absolutely fierce and there were loads of surfers and swimmers enjoying it just a little bit further down. Here’s pretty much just for looking. Unless you enjoy getting ripped open by volcanic rock.