Riding in style

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Hmm, it’s been a few days since I did one of these. Better get a wine. Or, better still, a trashy pre-mixed cocktail from the ABC Store. Now you’re talking!

So, not wanting to let a day go to waste with transferring islands, everyone was ordered out of bed early to pack and head to Wailea for some horse riding and waterfall swimming. Our arrival was met with the obligatory waiver and cursory wave towards the helmets, which we chose to wear despite it not being required under our constitutional rights.

We were assigned our horses and took our rightful place in line - I had to be second as my horse Dozer had recently been demoted from the position of guide and he was clearly smarting at the snub. We moseyed up the hill through paddocks and tropical plantations. We were soon at the obligatory photo stop and then at the waterfall stop. We dismounted and headed down to the water where we frolicked, refreshed and SUPped. The waterfall was apparently a place where the chiefs and nobility of the area came to cleanse and, given our noble status, it had a similar effect on us.

Back on board with some apples and guava to bribe our trusty steeds and we were back to the car on schedule. Lucky, as we had a plane to catch!

Quick change, shovelling of wet swimmers in the bags and we were on our way despite the customary road works to add to my stress levels. We arrived in plenty of time and even had a chance to sample the culinary delight that was airport cafe nachos and ‘cheese’.

Uneventful flight to Honolulu. I had promised the girls two “transportation surprises” when we were here. Knowing my love of public transport and the lack of trains in these parts, they were anticipating an exciting bus ride into town. Alas, something much less salubrious - a stretched limo, kitted out with all the lights.

We actually enjoyed the traffic delay into Waikiki and savoured the stunning views of the port as we inched our way to our accommodation. Checked in and sorted ourselves before a short walk in the rain and then straight to dinner. Our cuisine tonight was retro American, at the Rock Island Cafe. Michelin starred it was not, but we loved all the memorabilia all over the walls, the old school milkshakes and the girls surely loved our nostalgia at the snippets of TV shows they were showing. I Dream of Jeannie for the win. There was even some Harry Potter crap, for those interested.

Next day was scheduled for shopping and beach, but given the overnight howling gale and driving rain, we feared the latter might be dicey. Our attempts at a breakfast out were challenged but we managed to find something appropriately laden with sugar to sustain us through the next few hours of credit card limbering.

The credit card was not the only suffering participant, so Geoff and Beeb pulled up stumps after lunch while Eloise and I pushed on. Finally we, too, admitted defeat, heavily loaded with our spoils and limped back to the apartment.

An enlightening visit to Waikiki Beach (spoiler…the sand is fake and it looks a lot nicer than it actually is) and we retreated to the pool. All of the day’s walking meant an Uber was required to reach our dinner location but it was thoroughly worth the trip, with a delicious meal. And whip around ABC Store for bessert.

Another alarm-interrupted sleep saw us downstairs early for transportation surprise #2. Despite Beeb’s insistence that a limo was now the only way to travel, we chose, instead, a convertible Mini. Slightly less space in the back than the bus of Big Island.

Naturally, when you’re travelling in a convertible, you want sun and winding country roads. We chose to mix it up with some LA-esque freeway driving and intermittent showers. Winning. Never mind, we arrived, with crazy hair, in the cute town of Haleiwa with ample time to sample the local coffee (drinkable, on a low benchmark). Checked in to our shark adventure and we were on our way before time.

We arrived at the mooring quickly and hooked up. There was some nervousness so we delayed our plunge to provide irrefutable evidence that the other people on the trip didn’t somehow breech the steel bars of the shark cage and get eaten by the 12 foot Galapagos sharks, who only eat fish. Not chicken. Not even cooked fish.

While we were waiting for our turn, the boat crew managed to arrange a humpback to provide some entertainment. Four stars. Not as good as Antarctica but a worthy inclusion on the program. Highly commended.

Our turn arrived and she made it as far as the second rung of the ladder before looking down and seeing three sharks. When you’re 11 and climbing into, literally, shark-infested waters, cage or no cage, it’s quite daunting. Lucky then, when you have a mother who detaches your arm from the ladder and pulls you into the water. So, she managed maybe a minute before it became too much for her and she climbed out. But given the staunch rejection I’d received when I said I’d booked shark swimming, she did incredibly well to overcome her fear and get into the water at all.

Beeb safe back on the boat, the rest of us marvelled at the awesomeness of being surrounded by approx 15 sharks, just cruising around, looking at us as much as we were looking at them. It was fascinating watching them swim around and check out what was going on, even if you did feel you had to be acutely aware when a limb or two drifted out of the bars of the cage.

Back on the boat and quickly back to shore before we headed north for lunch at Ted’s Bakery. A good loading of carbs and garlic to restock the energy we’d expended floating around in the cage before we visited the cousins of Fins Akimbo at Laniakea Beach. There were a couple resting on the beach and quite a few more in the akimbo zone, but we felt sadly reminiscent of our Poipu views so we moved on.

A quick (and expensive) stop for some dinner and lunch supplies before a pool swim and dinner on the balcony watching a whale frolicking offshore. There’s worse things.

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