Hawaii is a collection of eight tropical islands that are beautiful to visit any time of year. I have visited both Oahu and Maui, and I remain partial to my stay on the island of Maui; even now, a few years after my visit, I find myself longing for the soft sand, gentle breezes, and warm sun of Maui. It is there that I suggest you go if ever given the opportunity. Maui, specifically known for its natural beauty, is nicknamed the “Valley Isle.” It is so named for its two large mountains, one on either end of the island. As with most islands, one of these mountains is a volcano, but Haleakala is not active. The mountains are covered in a vibrant tropical rainforest that you can see from a plane on your way in if you are lucky and it’s sunny out.
The airport, Kahului, is partially open-air and very small compared to most airport hubs. Upon landing, you are immediately aware of how empty the airport seems to be, even during peak travel season. There isn’t much to do near the airport, so it’s best to rent a car and head out to the other side of the island. I had purchased a package deal with a rental car and hotel; anything else tends to be inefficient or too expensive to bother.
You can drive south across the island or circle around the shoreline and look out over the ocean. The drive across the island is both beautiful and strange; everything seems empty, but it is peaceful rather than unnerving. You pass through fields and over hills, and can often see bits of rainforest on the mountains in the distance. The main town of Lahaina is most quickly reached by the drive across the island, and that is the route I took. Farther down the road is Ka’anapali, where my hotel was nestled in on the sand among many others; most have beachfront property by default. It’s best to check in and unload your luggage at the hotel, take the opportunity to ask the concierge for recommended activities and dining ideas, and then double back to explore.
Lahaina is a beautiful beach town that is different from Santa Monica or Venice or Miami. The pace is much slower, and more relaxed; it’s not too hot or humid or crowded. There are still elements of standard beach towns, but there are also parts of a new experience that are hard to put a finger on at first. There is no underlying sense of pollution as found in the metropolitan mainland, and the people seem happier. The town smells of ocean shores and bold, ripe fruit; sometimes the smell of paint from a vendor working in their stall drifts by, adding to the ambiance without tainting the air. If you rotate in place, you see lots of colour, all different shades and saturations from stalls offering tie-dyed clothing, pearl jewelry, brochures, and paintings. There are more stalls offering tours than can be counted: tours to Molokini Crater, Turtle Town, Haleakala, and waterfalls. Maui has a version of Cirque du Soleil available as well. This show is called ‘Ulalena, and tells the history of the islands through music and modern dance.
The town feels freer, lighter.
It is as you come to terms with this island version of a beach town that you realize the whole island feels slower: people drive slower, walk slower, and eat slower. There is less of a feeling of laziness, and more of an appreciation for the beauty in everything. The food tastes amazing, even if it’s a little odd at first. The pineapple is ripened properly in small pineapple plantations scattered everywhere rather than under artificial sun lamps and on store shelves. The coffee smells heavenly even for those of us that don’t drink coffee, and it’s no wonder, as coffee is the other main export on Maui. The sand behind the shops and stalls is initially hot to the touch, but if you burrow your toes down into it, the sand is cool and soothing again. As the sun sets, the shopkeepers gradually pull in their wares at a more leisurely pace than those on the mainland, talking and laughing with one another.
After dark, there’s much less to do in town. Residents disappear into their homes and there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of nightlife. Back in Ka’anapali, bonfires and torches from the hotels hosting their nightly events provide enough light for an evening walk along the sand; the sounds of laughter and music drift down across the sand to the waves lightly crashing on the shore. The sand is still warm from the afternoon sun, and the lack of pollution allows for a beautiful view of the night sky, the waves, and the flickering lights down the beach. I kept the windows in my hotel room open at night to hear the waves and the birds, and slept better than I had ever remembered.
When you fall asleep just after sundown and sleep beautifully, it is easy to rise with the sun. At dawn, the morning air is cool and clean, untainted by the noise pollution of the day; it smells salty and clean, and feels slightly damp on your skin. When you stand at a window or in a balcony, chilly early morning breezes glide over bare arms and legs, raising goose bumps. There is an irreplaceable sense of awe and peace that comes when you stand on a beach at dawn, sand still cold beneath your bare toes, without the sounds of civilization breaking between you and those waves. Other than the crashing of the waves against the shore, the mornings are ghostly quiet, amplified by the fog that settles in around dawn. The ocean seems to stretch forever, as far as you can see, and really brings to bear how small one individual is compared to all of the nature that goes unnoticed and unappreciated.
To take full advantage of Maui and all it has to offer, each day should be very loosely planned, if at all; the rhythm of life becomes an experience rather than a process. You can take advantage of guided tours to see Maui’s natural beauty, or you can choose to explore alone. I chose to take a guided boat tour out to Molokini Crater and Turtle Town for snorkeling. Molokini Crater is popular for aerial photos; it’s a crescent-shaped white island in the middle of a very blue ocean thirty minutes away from Maui. If you have seen the Pixar movie Finding Nemo, you have an idea of the brightly-coloured sea life, and you need to see the thousands of tropical fish that call the Crater home. Turtle Town was, as might seem obvious, a location in which sea turtles roam. The guides tell you stories of shark sightings and warn you not to touch the turtles, if you’re lucky enough to see any. I didn’t come across any sharks, but I did see two sea turtles gliding along. Watching them lazily sweeping through the water reinforces the feelings of being calm and appreciative of the peaceful island.
If you choose to try braving the Road to Hana, do take note that they close the town early on Sundays. It’s a harrowing thirty minute to hour-long drive, not for the faint of heart. Try not to drive when it’s raining, because the road is barely that. Often, it is only one total lane between a steep cliff on your left and a towering, lush rainforest on your right. If you use a GPS, take a moment to really look at the road’s path; there are more hairpin turns and switchbacks than Topanga Canyon or San Francisco. Even with all the adrenaline-inducing turns, the drive has breathtaking views. There are few places to stop for photos, so drive cautiously as you enjoy the scenery.
The beauty of Maui, once experienced, is hard to forget. Vivid images sear themselves into your mind to be called up again in your daydreams: images of giant walls, twice your height and many times longer, of jellyfish; of life-scarred sea turtles gracefully winging their way through schools of fish; drifting fifty or a hundred feet above the ocean floor and being overwhelmed by all the colours of fish and coral; tiny waterfalls tucked up against the side of the road in the middle of the rainforest; beach bonfires with people crowded around them, laughing and sharing stories. If you let it, the island will change you, granting you a perspective not unlike those suggested by great thinkers and artists throughout history: the world is so much bigger than you think, and no matter what your problems are, they are dwarfed by the larger-than-life rainforests and wide, sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean.