Chapter 7: Shabu Shabu and surfing

When Brian and I lived in Korea, one of our favorite dishes was Shabu Shabu. It's not exactly a Korean dish - more Japanese and Mongolian but it's amazing regardless. Shabu shabu is typically a family-style hotpot with tons of veggies and thinly sliced meat. Shabu shubu literally translates to "swish swish" which is exactly what you do with the meat. Because the meat is so thinly sliced, it cooks very quickly in the boiling hot pot. There really are no words. Look up a local shabu shabu restaurant and make a reservation, stat.

The following day was surf day. When I lived in Australia five years ago, I went on a week-long surf trip and learned how to surf. I was never amazing but I could get up. When I was in Florida a few years later, I could still surf so I was confident that I would be fine. Brian had never actually learned how to surf (I guess 3 months in an Australian hospital will put a damper on that sort of thing) so he was keen to learn.

We had our very own surfer dude Terry to teach us so we set out, once again, to Waikiki to catch a wave. Terry helped us pick out appropriate boards (I think mine should have been about 20 feet longer) and we dove into the surf.

I always get really frustrated with the paddling out part because you usually have to paddle out really far to get to the decent waves. Even though I've been working on my swimming, I always feel like I'm not moving! After about 4 hours, I made it to the waves. Ok, not 4 hours. Probably like 10 minutes. I'm an exaggerating surfer, so sue me. The waves were small and not very impressive, but there were plenty of people catching waves.

While waiting for waves, typically, you sit up on your board, straddling it with both legs. It takes a bit of balance but most people get the hang of it after a few minutes. Brian White is not most people. Brian would be sitting on his board, calm as can be and then suddenly flip off into the water. This didn't happen one or two times, either. More like 10-20. I was thoroughly entertained and I really wish I had video to share.

Brian did really well for a first timer and was able to get up and stay up for a few seconds. I was having a lot more trouble. I wasn't falling, I just wasn't catching waves! I was starting to get aggravated until a beaut headed our way. Brian and I both swung our boards into position and started paddling hard. I felt my board catch the momentum of the wave and I pushed myself up. Just as I was about to fully stand on a glorious wave, I was violently knocked from my board. I soon realized that my lovely boyfriend's board had taken a horizontal trajectory right into me. I was crushed. It was so not gnarly. So not righteous. A surfer don't. Sigh...

Although I half got up on a few, I never did seriously surf that day. But don't worry, I didn't walk away from the beach with nothing. Because I was originally surfing in my bikini (I later smartened up and put on a tank top) I had massively horrible board rash! The rubbing of my skin on a mixture of salt water and board wax and from all the friction of laying on my board and not surfing caused my skin to break out into a red rash all over. They almost look like tiny blood blisters and they lasted for at least a week. Ouchie mama.

Even though we were not the best surfers out there, we definitely had our surfing experience and ended our evening with a trip to Cold Stone (and ice cream place). Brian likes Cold Stone. A lot.

Chapter 6: Shangri La

Because of my cold, I had to spend a much needed day in bed following our hike. The next day, even though I wasn't up to par, I had to get out and enjoy Hawaii. Danny had heard of a secluded beach down the road that was the property of Doris Duke. We set off to find said beach.

With plenty of water and a few snacks, we headed down the road. It was quite the walk but we finally got to an area overlooking the coast. It really was a perfect Hawaiian day - hot, sunny, blue skies, gorgeous waves. All the stuff that makes you want to quit your job and move to an island. Because we were on a cliff overlooking the ocean, we had to scramble down a steep path to get to the actual beach. Once on the beach, we had to walk almost a mile to get to palace a la Doris. And a mile in the sand ain't easy. We weren't entirely sure what we were looking for so we just kept walking. Eventually, up ahead we saw something promising. Although it doesn't look all that impressive in photos, it really was beautiful.

I won't get into the history of Shangri La, Doris' Hawaiian estate, because apparently my history lessons are "boring." (Brian had to lie to me about it, but he's a terrible liar and soon admitted that he skimmed my Hawaiian history lesson, bored to tears). Oh well, I like my history lessons so maybe I'll just recite them to myself... But for those of you who don't know, Doris Duke was a heiress who puts Paris Hilton to shame. She was born in 1912 and was certainly something else. For more history (for those who like boring) check out Wikipedia.

Shangri La boasted it's own little cove and a pier made of lava rocks with a little fishing area at the end. We were able to snag the fishing area and made up a little picnic/relaxation area. Soon we were sipping on cold beers and munching on boiled peanuts (they're actually good).
Danny fully passed out on the rocks. That kid can sleep anywhere, ha!

The sun was starting to go down and we knew we had to do a few jumps into the water from the little cove. Having a waterproof camera makes such activities a bonus. Plenty of flips and cannonballs.

Chapter 5: Island Time

On day 2 Danny had to go to work so Brian and I were on our own. We knew how to get to one place: the beach. Where should we go? The beach. I unfortunately had developed a cold (blame it on the airplane germs, stress and lack of sleep -that and licking doorknobs) and needed some quality sun time. It was a pretty rough day again. Laying on the beach and reading. Like I said. Rough. We caught an incredible sunset and decided to walk the 5k home.

The next day we were left alone again but had the company of Danny's roommate, Terry. Terry is the epitome of a surfer dude. At least as surfer dude-esque as a guy from Minnesota can be. Although not bleached blonde, Terry has long hair and a surfer attitude: very laid back and without worries. Terry is also 19. With the energy of a 19 year old boy. Not that I'm old or lacking energy by any means but this kid schooled us in the energy realm. Terry, being the nice tour guide that he was, took us on a mountain hike. Let me rephrase. Mountain climb. Difficult mountain climb. There is a mountain just behind Dan's house the we decided to conquer. Terry knew of a path and led the way. When Terry described the hike, he called it a "Level 4" hike, out of 10. Mmm Hmmm. It was not. This hike was up the spine of a really steep little mountain. It wasn't a massive hike but it was a strenuous hike. I was definitely breathing quite heavily in a matter of minutes. I could barely see Terry ahead of me and I was just praying to reach the top quickly before I collapsed over the edge.

When we did reach the top it was oh so worth it. The view was amazing. We could see the entire valley all the way out to the sea and the breeze was exactly what we needed. Now we just had to get back down. We made it down, no dramas (except for the minor spill by Brian) and were relieved to have made it down alive.






When we returned, Danny came home and immediately found a Madagascar gecko. Apparently they're an invasive species but I don't care. If that's an invasive species, bring em on! They're gorgeous. It was weird though because he didn't try to talk to me about car insurance...

Chapter 4: Palm Trees and Blue Skies

After saying goodbye to Brad and to Vancouver, Brian headed off to catch our bus to Seattle. Seemed easy enough but after missing our first bus (the bus came to another stop because of the Olympics), we made it to another that would bring us to the Seattle airport just in time to catch our flight. Theoretically. What actually happened was a bit more frustrating. When crossing the US/Canadian border, shuttle buses go through a more stringent inspection than cars. Everyone has to get out, bring their luggage into a building, have luggage scanned and go through customs. Usually you can get through with no dramas. On this particular day, as things sometimes go, we had to wait for a few other buses in front of us. When we were finally (after about a half hour wait) pulling up for our turn, the bus driver came back onto the bus, quite flustered. Apparently the customs officers had gone on lunch. All of them. At the same time. For over half an hour. Who does that?! I am ashamed to admit that it was the US border officers. Not Canadian. Canadians would have probably hustled us through, maple leafs floating down with a light rain of maple syrup - all while singing "Oh Canada."

After sweating and dreading the impending missed flight, we finally made it to the airport. We ran up to the counter only to find out that we missed check in by minutes. Luckily, the airline agent quickly found us another flight (for free!) that would connect us to our Honlulu flight. PHEW!! We were so relieved and were finally able to breathe.

Many hours later we stepped off our plane onto lucious island soil. My brother Danny moved to Hawaii less than a year ago in search of adventure and greener pastures. I think he has found both. Dan met us in the airport looking tanned and relaxed. We needed both of those things. Because our flight got in so late, we basically got to Dan's house, met his roommates, blew up a mattress and crashed. Ahhhh.

The following day, Dan took us to Honolulu's main tourist location: Waikiki. We were in search of beach and the legendary Puka Dog. On the plane, a few ladies went on and on about the best hot dogs they've ever had. Now, I'm not a hot dog person, but these hot dogs peaked even my interest.

Puka Dogs was a bit tucked away but we were really happy we found it. It's a tiny shop with just enough room to order and a few chairs outside. But don't let that stop you. Puka.dogs.are.amazing. You get to choose between a keilbasa style meaty meat meat dog (my words) or a vegetarian dog. Then you choose your mayo (jalapeno up to habenero), fruti relish (banana, pineapple, mango, etc) and mustard (different fruity sour mustards). The bun is super fresh and is shoved onto a heated hot dog shaped point, creating a perfect, toasted hole in the center of the bun. The word "puka" in Hawaiian means "hole." Oh! Now I get it! The sauces are drizzled into the hole and then the hot dog is tucked into it's perfect hot dog shaped hole. It was in a word, glorious. Clearly - I just wrote an entire paragraph on processed meat.

With bellies full, and backs warm, we headed to the beach. Waikiki may be a touristy beach, but it was a nice beach. We napped in the sand and cooled off in the ocean. Shaved ice eventually peaked our interest and we had to partake. I didn't realize they would be so massive! Tasted like snow and sugar. And food coloring. I could only take so much.

Sun ✔ Beach ✔ Hot dogs ✔ Sugar ✔

Basically a very successful first day in Hawaii.

Chapter 3: Hawaiian Life-O

Sorry about the massive delay in updates! I can partially blame it on getting settled in, setting up internet and dropping (eh hem, yep) my computer. The other part is pure avoidance.

So time warp to the beginning of March (remember March? It was a good month...). Following Vancouver, we hopped on over to Honolulu. Ok, flew. Confession: Until I got to Hawaii, I didn't realize that Hawaii is on the island of Oahu, not Hawaii, aka Big Island. I just assumed it was on the biggest Island. It is not.

Before I get into the adventures and happenings of Hawaii, I want to give a little educational lesson for the equally ill-informed, courtesy of Wikipedia, the authority on life.

Hawaii is actually fairly fascinating. Although it WAS NOT split down the middle and given to Canada (thanks for that, Cathy White), it does have some questionable island politics.

There are 8 islands (and a bunch of other tiny ones) that make up Hawaii, all of which have more vowels than a Scandinavian adjective. The islands are as follows. I hope you are all staring at your screen attempting to pronounce these. Out loud. And embarrassing yourselves in front of coworkers.

Hawai'i (got it)
Maui (easy)
O'ahu (pshh)

Lana'i (okk...)
Kaho'olawe (yipes!)
Moloka'i (Molo, what?)
Kaua'i (not even attempting)
Ni'ihau (isn't that Chinese for hello?)

Out of the eight main islands there are two "rouge" islands. One, Kaho'olawe (say it with me now, Ka-hoo-a-la-we) is uninhabited for good reason: it lacks freshwater. Actually, in the beginning of World War II, it was used as a training ground and bombing range by the US. Bombing ourselves, lovely. Kaho'olawe wasn't even a part of the Hawaiian islands until 1994! After much protesting, the navy ended live-fire training and the island was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Today, the island is only used for native Hawaiian cultural, spiritual and subsistence purposes.

Ok, on to the more mysterious island, Ni'ihau, also know as the Forbidden Isle. Ni'ihau, as it's nickname implies, is "forbidden" to the common tourist. You can only go there by invitation! Pish posh! Ni'ihau is actually privately owned by the Robinson family (No relation to Robinson, Swiss Family). In 1864, Elizabeth Sinclair-Robinson purchased Ni'ihau for the whopping price of $10,000. (I know it was ages ago but, can you imagine buying an island for 10k?) She had the option of Ni'ihau, Waikiki or Pearl Harbor. I guess she wanted an entire island, not part of one. In 1915, Elizabeth's grandson closed the island to most visitors. Even inhabitant's relatives had to have special permission to visit. I wonder what sort of secrets that island holds... Ni'ihau has no phones or cars. The residents can't own radios, cell phones or TVs and visitors can't bring them to the island, even for themselves. They also don't have electricity! Apparently, these are all Robinson family imposed rules - maybe to keep the island in a more natural state? A forbidden island would be a bit more difficult to live on without modern luxuries. Regardless, I still want to go.

One other important piece of Hawaiian culture is not really a piece, but rather, a man. A very large man. A 770 pound man. Iz Kamakawiwo'ole was a large man with the voice of an angel. Really. Youtube him. There's the wonderfully cheesy video of Iz singing "Over the Rainbow" and playing a ukelele. It's a bit humerous to see such a large man with such a small instrument (he plays, of course, the ukelele.

On to the last little factoid. I'm sure there are plenty more but I'm sure this is enough for now. Hawaii's tallest mountain, Mauna Kea, located on the Big Island (Hawai'i), is actually taller than Mount Everest if measured from it's base almost 20,000 feet below sea level. Pretty cool, really. It's actually only 13,796 feet above sea level.

I do believe that's about it on the facts. On to the events...