| I was wishing for mai tais and fragrant tuberose
leis, but cheesy images of Lahaina danced through my head. Bobbing
for Bikini happy-hour contests. Glass-bottom booze cruises.
Marginal meals and Jack Lord's "Hawaii Five-O" badge
at Planet Hollywood. Relentless Front Street sidewalk vendors
hawking plastic leis and puka-shell people. Don't take me there.
I longed to discover beaches that had never been combed by a
metal detector, to dive into waters not yet penetrated by wetbikes
(a.k.a. water scooters) _ I longed to find cool Maui. Although
Maui is considered the hippest of the Hawaiian islands, it's
no secret that the island has become somewhat Oahu-ized over
the past 20 years. Thankfully, there are still pockets of cool black sand beaches, pink ginger stalks that sell for 25 cents
apiece and Korean barbecue dives that serve tasty plate lunches
for a few bucks.
We knew we weren't going to find Maui's coolest offerings
in Lahaina or on Kaanapali Beach, so my crowd-avoidant husband
and I hightailed it to Wailea, on the island's south side.
Although the planned resort town has the immaculately coiffed
feel of a tropical Disneyland _ bougainvillea grows as profusely
as California freeway daisies _ it sports some of the island's
prettiest white-sand beaches, including Polo Beach and Paipu
Beach Park (a.k.a. Poolenalena), and the considerably funkier
town of Kihei is eight miles up the road with a profusion
of grocery stores, surf shops, shaved-ice stands and upscale
Pacific Rim restaurants. Imagine an ocean as smooth, glassy
and blue as the Baldwin brothers' eyes. That's how it looks
as I glide across the sea after departing from Makena Landing
on our first morning in Wailea. Our kayaks _ turquoise, lime
green and fuchsia _ are tethered together and inch along in
perfect alignment, resembling kiddie carnival boats pulled
by a conveyer belt in a foot of water.
Our guide, Tim Dennis of Kelii's Kayak Tours in Kihei, has
Brad Pitt's abs and Mother Teresa's patience with even the
most uncoordinated paddlers (i.e. me). We fall overboard and
snorkel among sea-turtle colonies. We land on secluded Poolenalena
beach and whomp (bodysurf) ourselves silly. Wave after Tidy
Bowl-blue wave, it's a mad race to ride them in or scramble
over the crest, depending on how hairy they are. I finally
emerge from the marine meringue, sporting a major headrush,
so I lay my head on the hot sand and doze. Later that afternoon,
we head to Makena Beach, one of Maui's last undeveloped beaches,
four miles beyond Wailea after the coast road turns into dirt.
Completely isolated from any tourist trappings, Makena is
Maui Unplugged. "Big Beach," as it is referred to
by locals, is more than two-thirds of a mile long and 100
feet wide. It is one of Hawaii's most glorious stretches of
sand, with transparent waters, friendly whomping waves and
lots of solitude. There is not a hotel or concession stand
in sight _ at least not yet.
We kick back for hours before heading back to our digs at
the Makena Surf just up the road. The best thing about these
deluxe gated condos are their proximity to Big Beach. Whereas
most condos look as if they were decorated circa 1976, our
unit, enveloped by a minijungle of huge banana trees bearing
bunches of fruit, is state-of-the-art, with a CD player, a
sunken Jacuzzi tub, and a spacious lanai from which we spot
myriad humpback whales.
Although we have a fully equipped kitchen, we find ourselves
craving some local grinds (pidgin English for "food")
the following day, so we head to Song's Kitchen, a Korean
barbecue dive near the airport on Dairy Road in Kahului, for
a low-budget "plate lunch." Located in a strip mall,
Song's looks generic but turns out to serve one of the best
meals of our trip. |
