It's All Going to be Kõke'e

I'm tired and grumpy, so much so that not even coffee will lift my spirits.  But as we start up towards the state parks, the clouds start to lift before clearing completely to reveal the spectacular views.  A smile creeps across my face.

We get to our massive, grassy campsite – of which we are the only current occupants – and spread all our shit out under the bright sun to dry.

As we get organized we finally start to feel like people again.  As we're finishing up a Mazda car club rolls up to our spot and we watch with a mix of amusement and horror as they each bottom out on the uneven road: the sound of expensive body kits scraping against the rocks.  They line their cars up with perfect precision and line up in front of their cars, vapes in hand, and snap those insta-worthy photos.  And just like that, they're off on their next adventure while Mike and I excitedly wave to them like a couple of weirdos.
We marvel over the Kalalau lookout and later enjoy a nice can of soup over the burner before gratefully passing out to stone silence.

Our serene sleep is quickly disrupted when we both wake up FREEZING cold.  I'm in my hoodie, sweatpants and socks with two fleece blankets over me and I'm still shivering.  We huddle together for body warmth, but it's not use.  Eventually, Mike covers us with one of our tarps and we're able to retain some heat, although now every small move is followed by an aggressive rustling noise.  We get comfortable enough to sleep in until a new record time: 8:15!

Mike is convinced we should challenge ourselves, so we pick one of the more difficult routes - an 8 mile round trip journey out to a viewpoint of the Na Pali Coast.  The walk to the lookout is pretty chill - it's mostly downhill with a few flat parts.  The pay off is INCREDIBLE! Although I'll admit I felt a surge of vertigo traversing some of the steeper parts.

So friggin graceful/photogenic

We stop for lunch and then the real challenge begins.  The sun emerges from behind the clouds as we embark on the first two miles which are steep and all uphill.  We pray for shade and stop every time we feel even the slightest breeze.  We curse ourselves for being so cocky earlier in the hike.  Every other hiker we encounter looks terrified: they see us and are looking into their future.  The trail finally levels out and we heave a sigh of relief.
Back at the campsite, we stretch and enjoy a well-deserved beer.  We have decided to hit the little cafe near the park for some real grub and Mike is eager to get there, but I say "What's the hurry? I'm sure it will be open for dinner."
When we arrive at the just closed cafe, Mike's eyes shoot daggers.

All the cans of soup have made him crazy

~~~

We're a bit sore so we opt for some of the more easily accessible viewpoints and do a shorter jaunt down to the waterfall.

We FINALLY get to experience the little State park cafe and enjoy delicious homemade burgers that are so good, we go back for take out after.

Down about the prospect of a cold sleep, Mike opts for sleeping in the car.  I'm tempted by the idea, but within minutes of being cooped up in the tiny vehicle, I feel like I'm suffocating.  Sadly, I retreat to the car and at approximately 4:30 a.m., I awake to the chorus of a thousand roosters calling to each other across the park.
"COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!  COCK-A-DOODLE DOO!"
They almost seem to say, "I'M A FUCKING ROOSTER!  EVERYONE LISTEN TO ME CAUSE I'M A ROOSTER AND IT'S 4 A.M. AND I'M A ROOSTER!!!!!"
We quickly throw our stuff in the car and take off, stopping to dispose of our tent that has been ravaged by the Hawaiian weather (don't fret, it was free to begin with.)
Mike promises me he'll drive so I can sleep and I take full advantage.  He wants to hit up McDicks to charge his phone and use the wifi, but I keep snoozing in the car.
I dream I'm at a party in someone's yard.  There's a knock on the fence and the partygoers ask me to go answer.  I do, but no one's there.  I start to turn back and they knock again, louder this time.
I jolt awake.  A flustered McDonald's employee is rapping on the window.  I sit up and open the door.
"Waiting for a curbside order?" he asks.
"Huh...?"
"Curbside order," he repeats, waving the brown bag with the golden M on it.
"No, I don't think..."
"Are you sure?  The receipt says curb-side stall #1."
I look around, bewildered.  "I don't know, we didn't mean to park here.  My boyfriends inside, maybe he ordered it for me... What is it?"
"Rice and Spam."
Gross.  Yeah, definitely not for me.
I laugh and laugh and laugh (sleep deprivation will make everything hysterical.)

We spend our final hours on Kauai relaxing, eating and window shopping.  We even run into Crispy and the gang, although they don't seem to recognize us (or at least they don't acknowledge us.)
They're in a different park this time, but they're doing the same thing.  Drinking rum, loudly talking over each other.

So long Kauai!

Freaky bugs, Queen's baths and Crazy Storms - Lydgate to Anini

We make our way back up the island, but first, a quick stop at Mickey D's for some cheap breaky and to mooch their power outlets and wifi.

Before long we've arrived at Lydgate park.  The vibe is completely different from the previous places.  The sprawling grounds actually feel like a 'traditional' campground with assigned sites equipped with a picnic table and barbecue.  It becomes immediately apparent why it was so much more expensive than the other parks.

We stroll the park and frolic in the waves.  We hit the grocery store and treat ourselves to barbecued sausages, veggies and wine.  As the sun sets, we listen to soft music and play a heated game of rummy.  We begin to notice a couple strange creatures crawling around the table; they look like a moth/flying ant hybrid of sorts and are quite taken with our lantern.  We opt to ignore them until mere minutes later when suddenly there are MILLIONS.  They've covered the table to the point that we can't see the wood underneath; they crawl all over our bodies and into our clothes and drinks, all the while shedding their disgusting wings everywhere.  I can't extinguish the lights fast enough and when I do I can still feel them nuzzling into my hoodie.  Mike rushes to build a hasty fire on the grill and we watch them take turns head diving into the open flames.  Stupid creatures. 
The trauma associated with the incident effectively puts an end to our night night and we retire to the safe confines of our tent.
As I type this I swear I can still feel them on me.

~~~

We're sad to leave Lydgate so soon, but the park is fully booked for the following night so we make our way up towards Anini.  On the way, we stop to check out a farmer's market and the local lighthouse and decide to treat ourselves to lunch.  I get my first taste of Tuna Poke and I'm immediately obsessed. 

I haven't slept much over the past few days so I treat myself to a nap.

Mike sees a guy drinking a beer and holding an extra fishing rod and instantly makes a new friend (they actually even catch some fish!)  Chasity and his girlfriend, Esperanza are great company and we're sad to hear they're headed home the following day.  We hangout and chat and realize that we all were are at the same tour of the Hindu Monastery and we laugh about how ridiculously commercial the entire experience was.  We find out that they both also stayed at Salt Pond and had a similar experience with our favourite gypsy kids.  Chasity retells the story of how they were invited to join the group by the friendly ring-leader Crispy.  After a couple beers, Chasity pulls out some hash to share with the group, but makes the mistake of turning his head for less than a minute, when he turns back, the hash has mysteriously disappeared and the group are all silently snickering.  When he dares to ask who took it, a member of the group tells him, "It's not in the aloha-spirit to go around accusing people."

With that, Chasity and Esperanza politely remove themselves from the group and are then subject to an onslaught of verbal abuse during the remainder of their stay.

I feel slightly vindicated knowing that our instincts were correct.

~~~

We wake up to nasty weather so we drive around to kill some time.  We don't feel like cooking canned soup in the rain for an hour, so we decide to treat ourselves to another meal out.  Mike goes for Chicken in a Barrel and I go around the corner to a different barbecue place.  I decide to try the 'loco moco' since it is a traditional Hawaiian meal and because it is so heavily touted at every restaurant on the island.  And well... it stays true to its description: white rice topped with hamburger patties, gravy and fried egg.  No frills here.  I don't know what I expected, maybe for it to be sort of fancier, but it's rather bland.  It comes with a spoonful of macaroni salad.

I think the girl I overhead at Koke'é said it best: "You know it's bad when the macaroni salad is the best part!"

*Side note: Linda Vu has since informed me that when she tried Loco Moco she LOVED it, but she pointed out that she tried it at less-known local eatery, so perhaps I should give it another chance.

We finish the day off with a visit to Queen's Bath.  We're expecting a quick jaunt down to the rock pools, but instead are greeted with a steep, slick and narrow path.  By the end of it I've abandoned my flip flops and I'm covered in mud.  It's well worth the journey, exploring the jagged black rock faces while the ocean sprays explode all around us is my best experience of the entire trip.  Even the stern warning that over 30 people (read: dumb tourists) have died at this location can't kill my spirit.

We jump into the frigid pool and scream/laugh nervously when the huge waves crash in over the rock wall and send us flying.

"I don't know what to do with my hands"

~~~

We wake up to the aggressive flapping of our tent caught in a storm.  The poles bend under the strain, contouring the tent into concerning shapes.  At one point, Mike gets up and moves a picnic table to secure one side, but it's of little help.  We spend the rest of the night awake, hanging on for dear life.  Eventually, the damn roosters start sounding off and we take solace in the fact that it will be daylight soon. 
Once there's enough light, we throw all our wet, dirty, sand shit into the car and head to our final location: Koke'é State Park.

Lo Zio Dino Pie

For those of you who got the opportunity to eat at Maffeo's or those friends who attended any of my childhood birthdays, I don't need to tell you how good my dad's cooking is.

For those of you who were not as fortunate, I'll fill you in: my dad's an amazing cook.

All my most impressive culinary feats are thanks to my dad: pasta puttanesca, caprese salad, spaghetti vongole, the list goes on.  So every time I see him I try to gather as much information as I can for my personal cooking arsenal.  

Strangely enough, the day before I left to visit my dad I was chatting with my godmother, Julianne, and she asked, "Does your dad still make that delicious Easter pie?" 

"The one with ham and egg?" I asked (Pizza Rustica).

"No, it was a sweet one with ricotta."

I couldn't recall it for the life of me.

The next day, when I walked into my dad's apartment he informed me, "We're going to make a pie together, it's one of your mom and Julianne's favourite."  It's almost as if he knew...

For your cooking (and eating) pleasure, I present: 'Lo Zio Dino Pie' or as it's "officially" known: Pastiera Napoletana.

Makes one pie:

Pie Crust

Ingredients:

330 grams of flour 

130 grams of sugar

130 grams of butter (softened)

1/2 teaspoon of vanilla

Instructions:

Sprinkle the flour in an even circle and add the sugar, butter, eggs and vanilla in the centre.

Starting close to the centre of the circle, gently begin kneading the ingredients, slowly adding more and more flour until thoroughly mixed.

Roll dough out using a rolling pin until thin and then lay across pie pan, removing any excess dough from the sides.  

Poke the dough a few times with a fork.

Roll out the remaining dough and cut into thin strips, these will be used for the top of the pie.

Filling

Ingredients:

150 grams of cooked barley and milk (let sit in the fridge overnight)

60 grams of sugar

2 eggs

100 grams of ricotta cheese

1/2 teaspoon of vanilla

Instructions:

Stir the filling ingredients gently and then ladle into awaiting pie pan.

Gently lay slices of dough across the top of the pie

Bake at 300° F on the centre rack until golden brown (about 30 minutes), try to avoid opening the oven door as much as possible.  Drop the oven temperature to 200° F and allow to cook through for another 20 minutes.  

Remove and allow to cool, cut into slices and serve.

Best enjoyed with a cup of espresso.  Just don't do what I did and eat half the pie and then have to go to bed with a tummy ache.

Enjoy!

Salt Pond and Paranoia

Night and day... A tired simile to be sure, but the best way for me to compare our old and new campsites.

Salt Pond Beach is large and sunny; families barbecue, couples picnic, kids swim, and further down the park they're setting up the pavilion for a party.  There's food, alcohol, a DJ, karaoke.  I'm itching for an invite.  Later, I'll find out it's a baby shower.  Hawaiians know how to throw a party.

In one of the closer pavilions there's a big group of young people drinking and they invite us to join.  They're an eclectic mix of young nomads and older street people; they hail from all different areas of the states.

I start chatting with 'Crispy.'  We've only just started talking, but already he's insisting we come visit his secret campsite in the middle of the forest.  "We don't usually allow any outsiders up there, but you guys seem really cool."  Something's off.
When I misplace something, those around me become immediately defensive, even though I never suggested it was stolen. 
Crispy warns us, "You can't trust anyone on this island not to steal your shit.  I mean, everyone in this group is cool, but don't trust anyone else." 

A few minutes later when I go to the tent to get a corkscrew for a couple of the girls, someone approaches Mike and tells him, "Yeah, people will act really nice to you, but once you're a few beers deep and out of sight of your tent, their buddies will be over there stealing your belongings."
As he is saying this we are currently:
a) With a group of strangers who are being extremely friendly
b) A little drunk
c) Out of eyesight of our tent
d) Noticing a few members of the group lingering around the camping area

Mike subtly excuses himself, then speed walks over to me.
"Maybe I'm being overly cautious," he says, "but my instincts are screaming that something is wrong."
We decide to err on the side of caution.  At first, we think to lock our valuables in the car.
"Wait, what if that's what they're expecting us to do?"  The car park is a distance aways and pitch dark.  Paranoia is really setting in now.
We decide to put our most important items (passports, wallets, electronics) in a backpack and take turns wearing it all night.  We subtly rejoin the group, trying not to let on to our suspicions.

The night continues and we have some laughs.  One of the older guys corners me to tell me about his struggle with heroine addiction.  I feel for him, but he hasn't even told me his name yet and my social anxiety is rising, so I excuse myself and go join the others by the fire. 
I chat to the one guy in the group who seems the most down to earth.  He tells me he hates the guy who was just talking to me.  Someone else comes over and warns us not to trust this tall guy with a limp.  Clearly there is some inner drama in this seemingly tight-knit group, as they begin to squabble amongst themselves over the remaining booze.
The final straw is when we overhear Crispy tell someone, "I love getting drunk and straight up lying to people's faces."
We make our exit.

Back in the tent, I wonder if we really were about to get ripped off by a bunch of gypsies or if we totally overreacted.*  As I'm drifting off, it suddenly dawns on me that they had a lot of expensive steaks, imported rum and brand new cellphones... 

*Our paranoia is eventually validated, but that's for another story... 

~~~

The next morning is a bit uncomfortable, as we go out of our way to avoid the group.  By the time we get our day going, most of them have cleared out of the park.  We enjoy our first proper beach day - lay in the sun, snorkel, see some cool fish.  When it begins to gently rain, I lay in the tent and devour a good book.  

Kauai You Gotta Be Like That

I'm dazed.

Could have something to do with the 14+ hours of travel.  Or maybe the 3:30 am wake-up call.  Or the fact that I didn't really sleep the previous evening.  Apparently Clarion Hotel/Park &  Fly is home to a Sunday night coke binge party (dramatic crying in the hallway included!)

At any rate, I'm a little out of it.
The woman driving the taxi tisks, "...they really should have sent someone to pick you up."
I don't understand.
She stops a few kilometres away at our car rental.  The metre shoots up from $8 to $10.  I offer her $12.  "... waited for over two hours and for only twelve dollars!"
The issue becomes clear, but I'm too tired to argue.  I end up giving her $15.  Suddenly, she's all sunshine and rainbows, "Enjoy your trip, thanks so much," she coos.

Following a mountain of paperwork, they bring our car around.  She's a beat-up old Honda, but she'll do.  She makes some worrisome noises, but she's still a steal.  The receptionist asks us where we're camping first.  When I answer Anahola, she says "Ohhh..." her look says it all.
Once pressed, she admits, "There's a large homeless population who live at that beach, but mind your P's and Q's and you should be fine."
A tad worrisome.

Fun fact: Kauai has the world's largest feral chicken population 

We hit up Walmart to grab the essentials (ie: beer and candy) and replace the camping stove that was detained at customs.  The greeter stops me at the door and scolds me for trying to bring my backpack in.  She points me to the electronic locker system.  We're definitely not in Fernie anymore.

We crawl through the evening traffic and make it to Anahola Beach before nightfall.
There are several tents dotted along a grassy bank and a couple more setup a few metres over, in a sparse forest.  At the farthest end of the forest there are structures that look more permanent, so we stay on the side we're at and setup under the trees.

The gusty winds make setting up an ordeal, to the point where when we realize the opening is facing the wrong direction, we can't be bothered adjusting it.

A couple beers later and my eyelids are sandbags.  I call it quits by 8 pm and retire to my tent for another restless night.  Between the paper-thin sleeping mats and the sporadic gusts of tent-rattling winds, I barely sleep.

~~~

I wake up to Mike trying to lure me out of the tent with coffee (the little angel).  It's luke-warm at best, but it's coffee, so I'm happy.  See, we couldn't find a camping stove at Walmart, so we settled for the only other option: a chafing fuel disk stove.*  It's measly stature paired with the gusty winds means it can sort of warm things, but don't count on a rolling boil.

*I urge you to check the link, so you can truly appreciate how pitiful this thing is 

The sky is a muted grey, the wind hasn't let up, so we decide to explore.  We chase waterfalls, munch on roadside grilled chicken and hit up a nearby thrift store (which doesn't hold a candle to the Fernie Sally Ann) before retiring back to our campsite and enjoying some tepid no-name brand ramen.

More and more campers arrive for the second night and a couple approaches us to ask how and where we obtained our permit (answer: through much back and forth with the recs department, snail mail and two cashier cheques later.)  They begin setting up nearby and shortly after the girl approaches us again.
"Someone just told me that a couple nights ago all of the tents pitched under the trees had their cars vandalized and their stuff stolen."
Oh.
"Will you guys move?"
We haven't experienced any issues yet and besides, there are so many people set up around us now, surely there's power in numbers.  We opt to stay put, but it makes for yet another restless sleep.

Morning light fills the tent and I rise and shine before my alarm.  I'm optimistic for sunshine.
I place my little pot of water on the chafing stove in preparation for instant coffee and start to pack.  I'm eager to get to the Hindu Monastery in time for the 9 a.m. tour and apparently I'm not alone.

The place is packed with silver haired tourists, many proudly returning for their 2nd or 3rd times.  We're corralled into a large tent where our old, white tour guide drones on and on.  He asks if anyone has questions and the crowd delivers.  He answers half-heartedly and even admits to making up some answers on the spot.  What he's really passionate about discussing are all the items available for purchase at the gift shop.  Heck, they even have apps available for purchase on iTunes.
At one point, a man in the front row raises his hand; when he's picked he stands up, faces the group and explains that he is a born and raised Hindu from South India and that he respectfully wishes to clarify some things.  He reiterates some previous questions and expands on the explanations given.  When he finishes, everyone bursts into applause.  I wish they would let him take over as our guide.

The worlds largest crystal is cool and all, but LOOK AT THIS SPIDER!

We waltz through the stunning grounds and hear interesting facts.  We're asked to stay together as a group and not to stop for photos until the tour portion is complete, but no one listens.
Slowly, we make our way down to the new temple being constructed.  Five carpenters are hand chiseling all the intricate details into multiple kinds of granite.  Construction began in 1990, but won't be complete until April 2022!

Pretty impressive stuff

We slip away from the never-ending-tour and are beyond gleeful that the sun is finally shining.

We hurry down to the boardwalk to rent a couple bikes and cruise along the oceanside.

A local man is selling big drinking coconuts out of his truck.  Excited, I approach him and ask how much.  He tells me $5 US (special tourist price, I'm sure.)  I almost respond with, 'Muy caro!' and then remember that I'm in the states.  Too ashamed to be branded as a cheapskate, I cough up the $5.

I really need to learn to haggle... At least it was a good coconut...