I went for a run this morning before we packed up all of our Locals, Ken’s t-shirts, and Big Island Candies spoils. We elected to cut across the island at the center again. We reached Kona in about 90 minutes. We made a stop at Alula Beach. We weren’t the only people with this idea. An entire busload of Q-Tips had sprawled themselves out on the beach.
My purpose in choosing this particular beach was that it offered a reasonable chance of spotting a sea turtle or two since we haven’t had the best luck so far. We walked along the shoreline a little bit and on our way back spotted a couple submerged near the water’s edge.
They weren’t giant, but Nicole seemed pleased with them nonetheless. They were chomping on algae the whole time we saw them, but would very briefly raise their heads above the water for a breath of air. We spent maybe 30 + mins or so at the beach before getting caught in a lineup of q-tips walking back to the car park.
Knowing that United Airlines isn’t known for their generosity in food service on domestic flights, we went to find a place to eat lunch. We settled on a place called Poi Dog sandwiches. It seemed rather popular. We ate our sandwiches outside the deli with a nice view of a parking lot. Ironically, today was our first overcast day, and we were on the “sunny” side of the island.
We made a quick stop for gas before returning to the airport where I changed into pants in the Avis bathroom. I immediately felt overheated. We arrived at the Kona airport approximately 40 minutes before our scheduled departure. We are very efficient and were essentially the only ones in the TSA Pre-Check line. By the time we got through security and the agriculture check and walked to the gate, they were just calling Group 3, and without missing stride, we walked straight onto the airplane with a row almost to ourselves.
I say almost because the open seat next to us became used as a staging ground for anyone who felt the need to not sit in their own seat. It was a lot of fun for Nicole to have a revolving door of strangers make themselves at home next to her without invitation. I put my iPad case there to use as a slight obstacle to this behavior, but it didn’t seem to matter. They sat down right on top of it. I shall wash it when I get home.
Although rather brief, it was nice to get away for a few days. Nicole had never been to the Big Island before, so now she has had a taste of it, and Ken’s House of Pancakes. I think she would have liked Kona more with its more picturesque beaches and ocean-view hotels, but $450 per night seemed a bit steep, so off to Hilo we went. In many ways, Hawai’i is becoming like Disney World. Only the very rich can afford to spend any time there. Maui has been completely unobtainable. It’s even difficult to find a hotel in Waikiki for less than $400 these days.
When we first got airline benefits and jetted away to Kauai for 30 hours back in 2015, we thought we would be in Hawai’i a lot more than just twice on our own in the last seven years. Hawai’i is perhaps one of the easiest places we can get to from Los Angeles, but it doesn’t matter if we can’t afford to stay anywhere. A “normal” person has to pay for airfare on top of overpriced hotels, and I just don’t know how anyone can afford it (or justify the expenses at least).
With that being said, it was a relief to finally get back to Hawaii, and particularly to the Hilo side of the Big Island. It will always bring back memories for me — because Hilo never changes. I thought that the pandemic would surely have killed some restaurants, hotels, or other establishments, but every single one that I remember is still there. Verna’s, Ken’s, Arnott’s lodge. The only casualty I could see was Uncle Billy’s, which by the looks of things, was being retaken by nature long before the pandemic.
The Hilo side is a different world, and to be fair a very different Hawai’i from elsewhere. While that has a certain appeal and authenticity, Hilo is not without its detriments. Its reputation for rain is the least of its problems. Drugs like meth and a lack of a solid education have increased homelessness on its streets. I did my best to not sugarcoat Hilo to Nicole. I told her it had some similarities to Eureka, California — a quaint Northern California town overshadowed with a huge drug problem. Initially she said, “It’s not as bad as you depicted.” Shortly thereafter, we walked around a few homeless encampments to get a pizza.
I suspect that Hilo’s decline, or perhaps more accurately its total lack of growth or ability to adapt over the last 20 years, has something to do with its isolation. While I suspect many tourists pass through on their way to the volcano, Hilo doesn’t offer anything to the average tourist. Its airport is only served by inter-island flights and by United from LAX a few days per week. It has no upscale dining or nice resorts. Its beaches are volcanic rock and could be quite painful for sunbathing. Its downtown area is very beat looking. Locals definitely outnumber tourists by a very large margin. And for that reason, Hilo can sometimes be wonderful.
Nobody was unfriendly to us with the exception of a young man who yelled at me while driving to say, “Ey! Try learn how drive, yeah?” And to be fair, I hadn’t driven well just before that moment. My old nemesis the roundabout, and an abruptly ending lane led to some creative driving on my part. Everyone else seemed rather pleasant. More than the drugs and dilapidated buildings, peoples warm attitudes are what have stuck with me most throughout the years. Back in 2006, a total stranger befriended me at the airport and we shared a room and a grilled cheese sandwich. A Hawaiian Airlines gate agent gave me a fancy lei after he heard that I finished 2nd in my marathon. And a Ken’s House of Pancakes waitress served me what I can only estimate were six plates of spaghetti during Never Ending Pasta night. I did notice that this doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore, and I am perhaps to blame for that.
Hilo has its problems, but memory is a funny thing. I will always associate it with a very unique and special time in my life. I am certainly biased, but I hope my blindness in this matter didn’t take away from Nicole having a good time. “This is where I tried to get into a theater to watch Memoirs of a Geisha just to get out of the monsoon.” “This is where I took a nap on a rock.” “This is where an old woman helped me pick out $50 worth of chocolates after I received a gift card for finishing 2nd.” I hope I didn’t drone on too much. Perhaps the Hilo side isn’t all that interesting, and it’s definitely not the kind of place where you watch a Luau dinner show or learn to cut open a coconut, but it is known as the coast of “Old Hawai’i.” It has a certain authenticity (good or bad) that is being lost elsewhere in the islands.
With rising prices, it is difficult to say when we will be back to Hawai’i. Hopefully it doesn’t take another five years. My old Locals were worn down to rubber stubs which is an absolute tragedy. I recently learned that you can actually buy Locals in Southern California, but I’m going to pretend that I don’t know that. Nicole and I just had a conversation today about Ubud on Bali, and its complete lack of authenticity. Our hotel there was amazing and the temples were fascinating, but it was ruined by the fact that none of it seemed real. Also, the vegan food really ruined my day once. Hilo may not be the most comfortable place one can go in Hawai’i, but it is without doubt one of the more authentic, and that’s worth something. Whether in 5, 10, or 20 years, I hope Hilo is able to preserve that edge.
passports & pepto bismol 