Peru Adventure – Cusco

July 9, 2014

Before we could begin our Inca Trail trek, we needed to spend some time acclimatizing to the higher altitude. We were already fortunate enough to be coming from the Mile High City, but any Coloradoan can tell you there’s a big difference between physical exertion at 5,280 feet and physical exertion at 14,000 feet. We needed some time to get ourselves ready. So on Wednesday morning, we headed back to the Lima airport to board a flight to Cusco, which sits at 11,200 feet. A combination of Inca and Spanish culture, a blend of old and new, Cusco did not disappoint. For starters, landing at the airport there was more eventful than I was prepared for. As you descend toward the city, the Andes rough you up and force you through sharp turns as the pilots maneuver to land in the narrow, high valley where Cusco rests. I’d like to say that regular flights over the Rocky Mountains had prepared me for this, but they didn’t. But then I’m not sure anything can prepare you for the wonder of Cusco.

Our G Adventures guide, Ray, was waiting for us safely outside baggage claim. He efficiently loaded us into a large van for the 15 minute trip from the airport to our hotel and began briefing us about the rest of the events for the day. After a couple of free days wandering around Lima sans guide, I was looking forward to the opportunity to learn more about Peru from a local. A guide will make or break a tour, and immediately I knew we were in good hands with Ray. He was born and raised in Cusco, spoke Quechua (the language of the local natives), and finished his degree in tourism at the university in Cusco by completing his thesis on the Incas. And if his expertise were not enough, Ray’s impeccable people skills carried us from that first van trip through our last night in Cusco. He somehow managed to keep us motivated and on track for our entire tenure with him without ever making us feel rushed. I later discovered that he’s a Gemini like me. I knew I liked him.

Grains available for purchase from local farmers in the San Pedro Market — Bags of grain in the San Pedro Market

We had a quick stop at the hotel to freshen up before heading out for a walking tour of Cusco. Ray first took us to the San Pedro market. We wandered the aisles of this packed, open air venue where you could buy produce, grains, meat, herbs, textiles, and other assorted items. I marveled at the size of the Inca corn, which makes our corn nut snacks look piddly. We stopped occasionally to make food purchases from several local vendors so we could sample traditional bread and some tropical fruits that we can’t find here at home. It was one of those things that we might not have experienced without a good guide. We might have found the market on our own, but the likelihood that we would have felt comfortable purchasing and ingesting unknown foods is slim. The most interesting fruit we sampled was the granadilla, which had a hard outer shell similar to a gourd but which was very similar to a passion fruit. The flesh around the seeds was gelatinous (think chia seed consistency) and you had to suck the fruit from the outer shell. It was a fun experience. Nothing like getting to know your new friends by mouthing fruit on a street in Cusco.

Looks like a good time to walk your alpaca

We walked from the market toward the main plaza. Along the way I took time to marvel at the architecture. The bottom portion of many of the buildings was fashioned from different materials than most of the top parts of the same buildings. Ray explained that over the course of hundreds of years and dozens of earthquakes, the Inca walls remained in tact while the Spanish buildings erected on their ruins crumbled. Consequently, Cusco has a very new, old feel. I marveled as we walked near one of the old Spanish churches erected by the Conquistadors. Outside there was a street performer who had painted himself gold and was posing as a living statue for cash, a scene I could easily imagine any day of the week on the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder. Passing right in front of the church at the same time, however, was a woman in traditional costume walking an alpaca. That was when I knew we were in for something special over the next week.

Noting we were hungry and a bit worse for the rapid altitude change, Ray directed us to a spot to grab a late lunch. He told us that our best bet was soup. Better not to overburden your system when your body is already struggling to acclimate. I was definitely feeling somewhat off already, so at Ray’s suggestion I tried the quinua (quinoa to us North Americans) soup…just the right amount of protein and comfort. Perfecto!

Later we met back at the hotel for a briefing about our journey into the Sacred Valley of the Incas and our Inca Trail trek. We were at last introduced to the whole of our hiking group. There were fourteen of us, six Americans, four Brits, a Swiss couple, and two Danish twenty-somethings. We quickly surmised that we were older than most of our fellow travelers by at least 20 years. We tried to imagine our advanced age would not be a handicap but, just in case, I began referring to us as “the old folks.” (It was what “the kids” were thinking anyway.) We covered logistics and were reminded that our packing limit for the next five days was 6 kilograms (about 13 pounds) and that had to include our sleeping bag and ground pad. They gave us the trip bags to pack for our porters and sent us back to our rooms to begin the arduous task of packing, weighing, and repacking. I was thrilled to realize I’d estimated well at home. My first time to the bag scale left me a half kilo under the allowed weight. Woohoo! I got to add in another shirt and the portable battery charger for my iPhone. All was right with the world.

Dinner was at a quaint, well-reviewed restaurant called Nuna Raymi’s. While my friends all went with more traditional Peruvian food, I was still feeling not quite 100% so I opted for the comfort of pasta. And I was enjoying my spaghetti with olive oil and chunks of delicious, locally crafted cheese until I thought for a second about the fresh basil and tomatoes in the entrée that I’d happily been gnawing. My mind did the inadvisable and considered that they may have been washed in water that hadn’t been boiled. I am not much of a worrier, but for about thirty seconds I entertained the horrific idea of uncontrollable, unscheduled, and just plain ugly potty breaks in the presence of 10 strangers with no proper toilets, limited foliage, and pack-out-your-own trash. I considered the swamp ass that would certainly follow such episodes and the irreparable damage it would inflict on my limited undergarments and two pairs of pants over the next five days. I imagined sleeping in a tent with these clothing items and my unclean self. I shuddered. Too late now. There was a reason why I purchased and packed Imodium AD and filled a prescription for Cipro. Why borrow trouble? One way or another, it would all be fine, right? I’m not much of a praying woman, but I’ll admit that on that note I sent some positive energy out to Pachamama (Mother Earth) to encourage her to look after me, just in case.

Posted on 30/07/201430/07/2014 by Me 3

Peru Adventure – Lima

Last week we returned from an 11-day trip to Peru. The impetus for the trip was to hike the famed Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, something we’d been talking about doing since we were in our twenties. It was then one of those distant, maybe-someday, sort of things, a long-term bucket list item that we shelved once we had children and the notion of traveling 4,000 miles away to hike 27 miles without them would have raised some eyebrows. Then, late last year, my friend Heather reintroduced the idea. Turns out we aren’t getting any younger, and the strenuous nature of the trek made the feasibility of postponing this adventure much longer a little sketchy. I mean, here at midlife we’re still reasonably fit and healthy, but you never know what’s right around the corner. So we took a chance on ourselves, put down a wad of cash on the trip of our dreams, broke the news to our children (who were less than thrilled to be left behind), and started working out the logistics. Seven months later, we were winging our way to Lima in coach, fingers crossed, trusting that we’d return home safely to children who discovered they could survive without us.

I want to share something of our adventures, so I am going to spend a week or two writing up some memories of the trip. Thanks for indulging me.
July 7th, 2014

Larcomar with the Pacific Ocean in the background

After a decent night’s rest at the Tierra Viva Hotel in the Miraflores district of Lima, we were anxious to explore. First stop, sadly enough, was to Starbucks to access reliable, free wifi and to satisfy an intellectual curiosity about the international cost of a Starbucks vanilla latte. (The latte was comparably priced to our local haunt…approximately $4.33 for a venti.) With no desire to sit after a long travel day, headed out armed with a map and a little blood in our caffeinestreams.

We walked to Larcomar, an upscale shopping mall built into the sea cliffs in Miraflores and listed as a must-see attraction in the area. While its location and architecture are worth noting, at the end of the day it’s just another mall with a Pinkberry and a Gap. We were hungry, though, and decided to eat lunch there at a local chain that specializes in pollo a la brasa (roasted chicken). Not eager to encounter stomach sickness before our long hike, we eschewed the salad we might have had at home and filled ourselves with chicken, fries, and Cusqueña, the local lager. With full bellies, we headed away from the coast and walked blocks back into town in search of something that felt a bit more unique.

We found it at Parque Kennedy, which is home to dozens of feral cats who have been adopted by the city’s residents. Local citizens set out bowls of water and food for them under trees in the shade. The park was designed with built-in seating where people can relax with their lunches and smartphones (free wifi in the park too, who knew?). Once you settle into a seat, a cat is likely to find its way into your lap for a warm, cozy nap. I found this local custom perfectly charming. The cats seem to be well-cared for and not at all mangy or unclean. We even saw one with stitches in its leg, which leads me to believe that they are getting medical attention when necessary too. The park serves as a de facto library system for cats. You stop by, borrow one for a while, and return it when you’re ready to leave. I was missing my dog and wanting some animal attention, so I sat down near a cat who was not spoken for and waited to see what he would do. After sizing me up for a minute, he decided I was acceptable and crawled into my lap. There he napped for about 20 minutes while I petted him. Made my day. Pet fix achieved, we returned to our hotel to mull dinner options.

We landed at Panchita, a large restaurant that was more populated with locals than gringos. There were no menus in English, which boded well for an authentic experience. We attempted to conjure up any Spanish-language remnants from high school for about fifteen minutes before our waiter realized we were out of our element and sent over another waiter to offer suggestions in English. Good man! Eager to try some real Peruvian food, we ordered a sampler platter and four different entrees. There was not a thing we tried that we didn’t enjoy. We tried Peruvian Anticuchos (beef hearts), papa relleña (fried, stuffed potatoes), causa (a layered dish with mashed potatoes, meat, and avocado), and some local giant corn covered with huancaina sauce. Steve ordered the lomo saltado (grilled beef with peppers and onions) and I had tamales and arroz verde. For dessert we shared some picarones (Peruvian donuts). You could stick a fork in us because we were so done. Not exactly sure how we ate that much or how we managed to waddle back to our hotel. By far the most unexpected thing about Peru was how wonderful the food was. Everywhere we went we found new delicacies to enjoy. The Peruvians take great pride in their cuisine, and it shows in the flavor and presentation of every single dish. We thought we’d head to South America and lose weight. Tell that to my now tight pants.

July 8, 2014

Dismayed Brazilians watching Germany massacre them in the World Cup — Dismayed Brazilians watching the World Cup

After transferring our bags to the hotel where we would meet our tour group later, we walked back up one of the main streets in Miraflores to look for our next great food adventure. We apparently planned to eat our way through Peru. We stopped into a sandwich place and somehow lunch became more dessert than anything else. Tres Leches cake and churros dipped in chocolate, anyone? Desperately seeking exercise, we walked toward the sea cliffs to stroll the boardwalk that connects Larcomar to several local parks. Along the way we passed a restaurant where Brazilians had gathered to watch their World Cup game against Germany. It was not pretty. My blonde hair made me feel like sore thumb for some reason.

We strolled toward the boardwalk, which in truth is more of a sidewalk than a boardwalk, with the intention of making our way through several parks. This part of Miraflores is called the Costa Verde because despite Lima’s status as a coastal, desert town, things actually grow green here. There were tons of flowers and bushes, along with cactus, green grass, and palm trees. It was hard to believe Lima was in the midst of winter because it didn’t seem like winter to these northerners. It was never under 60 degrees Fahrenheit, and most daytime temps were closer to 70. While the locals walked in boots, coats, and scarves, we strolled in light jackets. It was chilly, but not a Colorado winter by a long shot. I had read that winter in Lima was grey and dry, and that was no exaggeration. It was continually overcast, but rainless, and still quite tolerable.

Our walk down the Malécon landed us at El Parque Del Amor. There resides a sculpture by Victor Delfin called El Beso (The Kiss). Surrounding the sculpture are walls filled with bright mosaics. There are more built in benches where lovers can hang out and enjoy the sculpture…or not. A local tour guide told us that every year they hold a kissing contest beneath the sculpture. The longest kiss was over 9 hours. That’s more dedication than I have. I honestly can’t think of anything I’d like to do for 9 hours straight. Not a thing. Further down the boardwalk we came across the place where paragliders launch themselves via updrafts over the cliffs. We watched them for a while and, for a few seconds there, I almost thought it would be worth the $60 flight cost. Then I decided that since my main goal in traveling to Peru was to hike the Inca Trail I might be better off saving my flight for another bat time, another bat channel. No need to risk breaking my ankle landing from paragliding the day before our trek to Cusco, the Sacred Valley of the Incas, the Inca Trail, and finally Machu Picchu. We walked back to our hotel to meet our G Adventures representative and get the skinny on our flight to Cusco in the morning. We were finally on our way.

Posted on 22/07/201422/07/2014 by Me 1

I Want To Be Photobombed By A Lllama

The beautiful free gym I share with everyone else in Denver…here is the top set of 190 stairs above the stage

This summer hubby and I are taking the trip of a lifetime. We’re going to hike the Inca Trail in Peru. The hike covers roughly 27 miles in three days and at its highest point reaches almost 14,000 feet. One of the ways I’ve been training for this trek is by climbing stairs because the Inca Trail is loaded with them. If you’ve ever done stair training on the machine in the gym, the one with the actual moving steps, you know how badly that sucks. To avoid that, I’ve been taking my stair workout outside. The beauty of living in Colorado is that we have a fantastic natural venue for exercise, which is probably why we’re continually listed as the fittest state. I like to climb my stairs at Red Rocks Amphitheater, arguably one of the most beautiful pieces of workout equipment in the country.

A couple times a week for the past month, I’ve been driving the 20 minutes from my house to Red Rocks, donning a lightweight pack, and trudging myself from the bottom of the stairs beneath the stage all the way to the top of the amphitheater. It’s a solid workout, especially with 10-pounds on my back, and I’m definitely getting some stair practice in, which is great. But as much as I do, I feel it’s not very impressive. On any day of the week, Red Rocks is a haven for crazy cross-fit insanity. There are always people running up the stairs. I mean, running. Full on hauling butt as they barrel past me. And as I continue doggedly trekking up the outer stairs, I look into the amphitheater and see the fitness junkies who are jumping the inner steps two at a time or doing burpees or push ups or crunches on the benches inside. It’s downright discouraging. Even though I am more fit at nearly 46 than I was at 26, I usually end up leaving Red Rocks thinking my effort was lackluster at best.

Today, though, I did something I’ve never done before. I counted the steps as I climbed. From the parking lot beneath the amphitheater to the place where I take my first break on the level of the stage, there are 196 steps. From stage level to the top, there are another 190 stairs. Doing some quick math in my head, I realized that each trek up is 386 stairs. I pulled out my iPhone and did some more calculations. My standard hike up is the rough equivalent of climbing up 24 flights of stairs in a high-rise building. Then I turn around on my tired legs and walk back to the bottom where I start again. On my shortest workout days, I do three full sets. That equates to 2,316 stairs in a half an hour while wearing a weighted pack and without using handrails or walking sticks to assist me. Did I mention that Red Rocks is 6,000 feet above sea level? Even more awesome is that at the end of the day back at home I can still walk up my stairs carrying a basket of laundry without any struggle or discomfort. Sometimes I even go to yoga afterwards.

One of the first quotes I read in Bunny Buddhism is one of my favorites and it is appropriate to my discovery today:

The wise bunny knows we rarely see things as they are; we see things as we believe them to be.

I’ve been looking at my workout and seeing only what I believed, which is that it is weak by comparison to what others are doing. And that may be true. There are some nauseatingly fit Coloradans. But, you know what? Most of the folks in the amphitheater today weren’t in their mid 40s, and most weren’t carrying any additional weight. And while I don’t look like the 20-year-old girls proudly displaying their flawless, six-pack abs, I’m out there. I may be flop sweating like a farm hand on a midsummer’s day in Georgia but I’m there and I’m busting it out in my own way, which is a lot more than many other people can say.

I’m not exactly sure how much this training will help me this July over the long days in the Andes after nights spent sleeping in a tent, but it can’t hurt. What I do know, however, is that when we reach the apex of our trek and I am standing in the ruins at Machu Picchu, I’m going to take a moment to make sure I am seeing things as they really are. I’m going to soak in my realized dream and be grateful for the body that brought me there. And then I’m going to look around and see if I can find a llama willing to pose for a photo with me because that’s what life’s all about.

Posted on 18/04/201419/04/2014 by Me 1

You Just Never Know

Our jar filled with things we did in 2013 that made the year memorable. — Our jar filled with paper reminders about all we did in 2013 that made the year memorable.

My friend, Rachel, posted this to Facebook earlier today, and it’s been tumbling through my mind like socks in a dryer all afternoon.

People like to use New Year’s Day as a “clean slate” or a “new beginning” but in reality every second of every day is a new lifetime, one you have never lived before, so if you are ready to make a change do it. You are the master of your fate. Use every new moment to be who and what you want to be.

Boom! There it is. What an amazing revelation. Every minute we’re given an opportunity to start fresh. The past is behind us. Our future becomes reality one minute at a time as the present begins anew. There’s no need to wait for New Year’s Day to begin a resolution. You never know what’s coming up next. We fool ourselves into believing there’s always tomorrow. But, sometimes there isn’t. The time to go, to do, to forgive, to trust, to try, to adventure, to reinvent, and to begin is now. No matter how bad things seem, you can make an improvement if you really want to.

Yesterday I spent time with a friend I haven’t seen in a couple of months. I mentioned that hubby and I are planning a trip to Peru next year. It’s a trip we’ve talked for twenty years about taking but have found somewhat legitimate excuses to put off. We recently pulled the trigger and booked the trip, rational thought be damned. As I relayed my concerns about leaving our boys for 12 days of international, out-of-touch travel and adding way too much debt to our credit card at one time, my friend implored me not to delay any longer. She understands that there’s no better time than the present. Her husband is 48 and is suffering from progressive MS with an emphasis on progressive. In six years he’s lost the ability to complete simple daily tasks most of us take for granted. His body is betraying him and his sons and his wife provide support so he can get dressed, get in and out of bed, and function as best as he can each day. As she has witnessed her husband’s decline, she’s learned a lot about life. Life is too short to wait for anything. The time will never be right. There will always be things that stand in our way. But, honestly, sometimes there is no better time. Sometimes there is not even a tomorrow. And we may not know that until it’s too late to do something about it.

Tonight at dinner we sat down and went through a jar we’ve been keeping since January 1st, 2013. We filled the jar all year long with paper reminders of all the memorable things 2013 brought us. As a family we recalled camping trips, personal accomplishments, and cool adventures. We relived our year, and it was pretty great. Universe-willing, 2014 will be amazing too. Steve and I will be hiking the Inca Trail in July. And in the meantime, we’re going to continue to hug our kids and tell them we love them every day. We’re going to wake up and be grateful for what is good rather than lament about what is not the way we had hoped. Some days we’re going to do crazy things, like splashing into 37-degree water on a brisk New Year’s Day, just because we can. I’m going to take deep breaths, revel in joyful little things, and accept last-minute invitations. I’m going to let the laundry pile grow while I go for long walks. I’m going to welcome new friends into my life and linger over the last sip of wine in my glass with old ones. I’m going to be more bold, practice being at peace, and enjoy my precious time on this planet because you just never know. And if a year from now I’m still fortunate enough to be on this crazy ride, I’m going to sit with my family again and add up the gifts I was willing to reach for, one minute at a time.

Posted on 01/01/2014 by Me 4

Paradise – The Last Day

(Our last day in Kauai ended at the airport where we prepared for our overnight flight back to Denver. Because we had precious few hours left in paradise, I chose to save my final post about our trip until today. I’m sure you understand.)

We set the alarm for a 6:30 wake up call because we had a lot to accomplish. Happy to see that the clouds were finally clearing from Lihue, we decided our first stop would be Wailua Falls. Perhaps because this particular destination was relatively close to our lodging, we’d managed not to make it there yet. The mood was already somber in the car as we all took in the gravity of the situation. We were heading home at the end of the day, and not one of us was yet ready to leave.

When we reached the falls, it was lightly misting and the sun was obscured behind some clouds. Still, it was barely 8 a.m. on a workday morning for most folks in Kauai, so we had the falls to ourselves. We stood there for a few minutes enjoying it. The heavy rains from the preceding day had turned what should have been two separate falls into one large one, an upside surprise to visiting Kauai during the rainy season. As we stood there snapping photos, the clouds began to break up and for a brief minute the falls and the vibrant green forest surrounding it were illuminated. Perfection.

As beautiful as it was, we were eager to get on with our day so we headed to Koloa for coffee and breakfast to take to the beach. We were on Poipu before 9, and it was relatively empty as most folks were still sizing up the clouds and enjoying sleeping in on vacation. I headed for the water immediately, hell bent on getting some more fish photos with the underwater camera. I had hoped to spy a turtle in the surf but had no such luck. It was cool enough on the beach that the water felt pleasantly warm, so I swam and enjoyed the fish for about 45 minutes while the boys played in the mellow waves. We stayed on the beach until 11 and then packed up to go back to Koloa to purchase the last of a few souvenirs and gifts.

Our token Hawaiian souvenir photo for the koa wood frame we bought — Our token Hawaiian souvenir photo

Our last token Hawaiian moment happened after showers. On the first full day of our trip we had bought Hawaiian garb, somewhat tacky and obnoxious and yet wholly necessary. Once we were cleaned, we donned our Hawaiian outfits and drove down to Kalapaki Beach, the first place we touched the sand and the ocean on our very first night in Kauai. There with the late afternoon waves pounding the shore break, we posed in between waves for a quick family photo as our last nod to Hawaii. It was hard to be cheerful about it, but we tried.

Pretty sure I could get used to life in flip flops, tank tops, and no make up

On the flight from Kauai to Honolulu where we would catch our red-eye to Denver, Joe talked non-stop about how much he wanted to move to Hawaii. He says these things about every place we visit, so I didn’t think much of it. Truth is, though, that I was with him. I could live in Hawaii. Island fever be damned. There’s something magical about Kauai…the quiet pace of life, the light, the lushness, the friendly people, the steady and warm rain. I could do it. I could cash in my busy life to be quietly zen on Kauai. I’m sure of it. It would be a life completely different from the one I am living now, but I’m pretty certain I could live on a steady stream of flip-flops and farmer’s markets in paradise. Luke said that even paradise would seem boring after a few months. After all, if you’ve seen one sea turtle you’ve seen them all right? He asserts that some day even humpback whale sightings would be commonplace, much the way coyote and elk sightings are at home. He may be right. I suppose it’s possible. I’d simply like the opportunity to find out for sure.

Posted on 29/03/2013 by Me 7

Paradise – Day Seven

I think someone wants us to go home. When we went to sleep last night, it was raining. When I woke up in the middle of the night it was raining even harder. This morning when we awoke it was a full on downpour. We immediately checked the forecast for all parts of the island. It appeared it was going to be wet everywhere, so we decided that we would go ahead and return to Hanalei because if we were going to be wet that seemed like as good of a place as any.

With a quick stop for Starbucks, we headed out of town and up towards the Kilauea Lighthouse, which we had glimpsed yesterday but were unable to visit because it was closed for the evening. As we drove past Wailua, the river we had calmly paddled the other day was torrent of Kauai red dirt. The bay where the Wailua empties was stained red and the seas were rough. The roads were flooded in many spots. Still…we had hopes that perhaps the north shore was simply overcast and not drenched, so we cruised on.

Looking north towards Anini Beach — Looking north towards muddy Anini Beach

When we at last reached the lighthouse, we were there just two minutes before it opened so we waited at the gate. The gate at last opened and we drove into the bird sanctuary there. We were excited to see some of our old friends, the booby birds we had seen last summer in the Galapagos. Sure enough there was a nesting colony of red-footed boobies, along with some albatross and shearwaters, as well. The area was overcast and we were dry for the time being, so we walked up to the lighthouse and enjoyed the view. The seas all around were rough and along the coast you could see the areas where some streams and rivers emptied into the Pacific as they were murky and reddish. Anini Beach, where we had calmly snorkeled a few days ago, was completely tinted red. It would not be so easy to see my sea turtle there today.

Hanalei...a little flooded out — Hanalei…a little flooded out

Onward we went toward Hanalei, stopping briefly at Princeville to take in the Hanalei Overlook. We noticed there were many more waterfalls flowing today than there were the other day. Then, as we approached the road down into Hanalei we noticed it was coned off. Signs noted that the road was flooded and impassable. There were road and police crews there to keep people from making the trek down. Hoping that we might be able to wait it out, we stopped at CJ’s for lunch but when we had finished eating the road was still unopened. Sadly, we waved goodbye to Hanalei from the overlook and decided to head back around the island to Poipu where we hoped to find sunny skies at last.

Luckily, Poipu did not disappoint. Although the seas were far rougher today than they were yesterday there was at least enough sun and warmth for some more snorkeling. I headed straight for the water, determined to photograph some more fish. I was a few minutes into my task, crazily snapping photos of all the awesome fish I was seeing, when I realized that the camera had shut itself off. It was out of batteries. Dammit! Ugh. I hauled myself out of the surf and back to my towel where I lazed and watched Luke attempting to catch that dreaded rooster he wanted to turn in for his $40 reward.

The two fish I captured before my camera pooped out.

We’re all disappointed that we’re leaving tomorrow. I have to be honest. As a rule I’m ready to go home after a trip as long as this one. I am not, however, even remotely ready to go home this time. I love it here. This island is keeping a piece of my heart when I leave tomorrow. I love the diversity of the landscape, from the lush Na Pali coast to the desert western shore near Waimea. I love the friendliness of the people and the laid back pace here. Plus, there is so much to see that we didn’t get to see. We’d hoped to hike but it has been so wet that many of the hikes we had wanted to do were too slippery to enjoy. The seas were too rough to enjoy the northern coast by boat, and we missed out on several beaches I would loved to have visited if the weather had been sunnier and the northern seas a bit calmer. We didn’t even get to enjoy one west coast sunset on a beach. So I guess the bad news is that we’re leaving tomorrow. The good news is that we left so much undone we will be forced to return. It’s a small consolation but it’s something. And we still have tomorrow morning, so we’ll be heading out bright and early for one last shot at the beach before we board a plane and return to our Colorado home. On Friday morning when I land in Denver in my flip flops, I hope I will find some Kauai sand still stuck on me somewhere.

Posted on 28/03/201328/03/2013 by Me 6

Paradise – Day Six

We had one goal to accomplish today. On the cruise last night, one of the shipmates had mentioned boogie boarding to the boys. He recommended Brennecke Beach, directly adjacent to Poipu Beach Park, which is locally known as the place for boogie boarding. Because it’s a small beach, no surfboards are allowed and people are left to enjoy the waves either by body surfing or boogie boarding. So this morning we suited up, grabbed our towels and beach mats, and headed to the Poipu area hoping to escape the rain in Lihue. It worked. By the time we got to Poipu it was obvious we were in for a sunny Hawaiian morning.

My first order of business, though, was to do some more snorkeling. The first day we were here, we’d hit Walmart to purchase an inexpensive underwater camera, a camera we had managed to leave at the condo our first snorkeling day at Poipu and then not truly understand how to use during our second snorkeling day at Anini Beach when I swam with the sea turtle. I was determined not to let our purchase go to waste. Knowing I had seen great fish at Poipu before, I knew today would be my day. Armed with snorkel, fins, and mask, I approached the water with that camera wrapped firmly around my wrist, a woman on a mission. In a matter of minutes I was underwater snapping photos of any fish that would get within arm’s reach. If you’ve ever used an underwater camera, you know that underwater photography is not easy. You mostly aim your camera in the direction of the fish and then pray that you’re actually photographing the subject you’re intending to capture. I had no idea if it was working, but I snapped away like a loon anyway. Imagine my joy when I actually had captured a few shots of actual fish and not just my thumb over the lens or my own, neon-pink fins.

Meanwhile, Steve and the boys ran across the street to procure boogie boards. When they had returned, we walked next door to Brennecke Beach so the boys could try it out. I knew they would love it, and they did. Joe, who had left his rash guard at the beach yesterday for some other nice family to inherit, was getting mighty beat up on his skinny little boy chest but he could not bring himself to care. He loved it. Luke liked it too, but not as much as Joe, so he kindly shared his board with his crazy parents who had some fun too. Eventually, when we were all tired of being bounced around, we packed it in. We shared our battle scars, sandburned knees and bruises from collisions in the crowded surf, and headed to Koloa for some snacks and shopping before heading home to clean up for the second part of our day. Just before leaving as we stood at the park surveying the scene we saw two whales breach in the distance, their behemoth bodies launching halfway out of the water before landing with an enormous splash. They looked as triumphant as we felt.

When we finally were ready to head back out, we ran into more rain. It was pouring a steady, strong rain from Lihue through Wailua and Kapa’a, so we kept on driving. We’d originally thought we might make it as far as the north shore. Instead, we stopped off for a quick view of the Kilauea Lighthouse before heading off in search of dinner. The lighthouse and bird sanctuary were closed for the evening, but we caught a peek of the lighthouse from the overlook. The rain let up just long enough for me to snap a few quick photos of it. We might have to head back there tomorrow.

We allowed ourselves an early evening tonight because we’ll be getting up early to make the most of our last full day here on Kauai tomorrow. We have a lot to pack into our day. I would like to see another beach or two and snorkel again. Joe is still in need of his vacation souvenir, so he would like to shop. Luke is determined to catch a Kauai chicken or rooster, as we told him on day one that we would award anyone who could catch one $40 for their effort. And Steve found one more shave ice shack he has to try. I’m beyond sad to be heading home soon. Although it will be nice to sleep in our own house, there’s no doubt I’m going to miss this place. Steve told me today that I’d better hurry up and find my get-rich-quick scheme because we’ll need to some serious cash for the home I want to have on this small, idyllic, crazy chicken paradise out in the middle of the Pacific.

Posted on 27/03/201327/03/2013 by Me 2

Paradise – Day Five

No...your OTHER right. — No…your OTHER right.

Today started very early and far too harried as we realized that our alarm had failed us and we were already 15 minutes behind schedule. We hastily threw ourselves together and somehow managed to get ourselves to the kayak company for our morning paddle just a few minutes after 7 a.m. Determined not to let our weak start ruin our morning, we bucked up and got our kayaks onto the river. When we were in the Galapagos Islands last summer, we did some kayaking with the boys. Kayaking on the ocean when the wind and the currents are working against you is a tough proposition for most people. Doing that with two boys who haven’t been in a kayak before is even more work still. But kayaking on open ocean in wind and strong currents with novice paddlers, one of whom is ADHD and on vacation from medication, is borderline insanity. Our decision to take the boys kayaking again today is testament to either our optimism or our insanity.

The plan was to paddle up the Wailua River to the jumping off point for Secret Falls. As the kayak dude was explaining the trek, I started to wonder if we’d perhaps bitten off more than we should chew. Kayak up river. Pull the kayaks out at the trailhead. Cross a stream using a rope to help us through the current. Trek for a mile and a quarter through the mud (it poured again last night) and eventually arrive at a “secret” falls (that isn’t really secret at all) for a little swim.

We did a pretty good job with the paddling, which is to say no one died or was murdered in the paddle upriver. The hike went fairly well too. And being experienced hikers we did quickly make our way to the falls, which were definitely worth the muddy trek. Another family from Colorado was finishing up their time at the falls, so we were able to have them to ourselves for a few minutes. We all got into the pond for our photo op under the falls. Then, wet and muddy we slipped carelessly back to our kayaks for the trip downriver. Again no one died or was murdered, so we decided to consider the adventure a success.

Post adventure we were starved so we headed to The Fish Hut in Kapa’a where we all had (big surprise) fish. Even Luke, who had never been willing to try fish before, ate fish and chips. We shared a huge shave ice before heading to Lydgate Beach Park where the boys wanted to snorkel. We were only there for an hour, but tonight I realized that an hour is plenty enough to fry in the Hawaiian sun. Apparently I forgot to put sunscreen on my legs, and this evening they are en fuego. Oh well. At least I won’t be going home as white as I came.

This evening, after we’d been cleaned of this morning’s mud and this afternoon’s sand, we went on a sunset catamaran cruise around Poipu with Captain Andy’s Sailing. I knew a cruise along the Na Pali coast would be far more scenic, but after reading some reviews on Trip Advisor about boat trips up there in the rough, winter seas I opted to book us onto a southern trek instead. Frankly, the whole idea of paying $80 a person to yak off the back of a boat sounded unappealing. In theory, we took the boat trip to look for whales. Truthfully, we were simply enjoying an evening at sea. For the two hours we were out there we saw nothing but an occasional and quite distant spout. We were on our way back to the harbor when a baby humpback shared its fluke. Although I missed it, both boys saw it. And that is all that matters as Steve and I glimpsed our share of humpback whale flukes while cruising Alaska’s Inside Passage.

All in all it was another successful Hawaiian day. Our plans for tomorrow are loose and undefined, but they will likely involve a beach or two. And barring non-stop rain we’ll probably be trying out some boogie boarding. My main goal for tomorrow is to see if the four of us can go an entire day without acquiring one new patch of sunburn anywhere. It is a lofty goal, but I’m game. My secondary goal, the one which appeals to me far more, is to see if we can try another new place for shave ice. I think I’ve found my new favorite thing. Macadamia Nut ice cream is heavenly.

Posted on 26/03/201327/03/2013 by Me 1

Paradise – Day Four

Angels Trumpets...deadly if ingested but fun to look at. — Angels Trumpets…deadly if ingested but fun to look at.

We must be getting adjusted to the time zone difference because our day got off to a later start. We began with a quick lunch in Koloa, grabbing a slice at Pizzetta before heading to Allerton Gardens in Poipu. As a rule, I’m not a big garden fan but this a National Tropical Botanic Garden and because it contains all kinds of exotic plants it seemed like something I should see. Besides which the garden has been used for scenes in several movies, including Jurassic Park and a Pirates of the Caribbean film. I figured if it was good enough for Steven Spielberg and Johnny Depp it was good enough for me.

It rained lightly the entire time we were there, which further proved that our decision to do garden over beach today was a phenomenal idea. I was afraid that the 2.5 hour garden tour might send our boys over the edge, but they did fairly well considering they were the only children surrounded by 16 adults. Truth be told, they held it better together than I did because I found 2.5 hours a long time to stare at plants. I tried to be zen about it, but I’m not particularly patient that way. I was, however, fascinated to learn that a type of cluster bamboo plant in the garden can grow 1-3 feet per day. When the plant reaches the end of its life cycle at 150 years, it flowers to spread its seeds and then dies. Who knew?

And I did enjoy standing in the roots of a Moreton Bay Fig Tree that was used in the filming of Jurassic Park. The roots were about 5-6 feet tall, but the tree itself is only 70 years old. Nature is amazing. Still…I’m with my son, Joe, who said he prefers the fauna to the flora as a rule. So it seemed appropriate that as the tour was winding down and we were on our way back to our parked car a pod of humpbacks was surfacing just offshore. That’s the way I roll.

Post whale watching, we headed back to Koloa for more souvenir shopping (and a latte) before returning to Poipu to check out Shipwreck Beach. Joe had his heart set on doing some body surfing but the red flags were out, so he and Luke settled instead for sandcastles near the edge of the surf. While they watched their creations wash away, I watched a couple brave (read: insane) souls jump from the cliff into the ocean below. One guy used his 30-foot freefall to execute a flip, which I caught midway with my iPhone camera. When I looked back over at the boys, the sandcastle activity had been scratched. Both boys were drenched.

Luke, who had failed to put on his swim trunks this morning, was soaked in his clothes….cargo pocket shorts full of sand. Oh…the joys of boys. I shrugged it off and watched a monk seal do the body surfing the boys had hoped to accomplish.

On the way home, boys clothed only in beach towels in the back seat of the Jeep, the rain began to pour. When I read the guide books about Kauai in preparation for our trip, I was concerned about our trip here over the boys’ spring break during the wet season on Kauai. I worried that the water temperatures might be too cold and the rains might ruin our beach vacation. So far, the author was right. A little rain will not ruin your Kauai vacation. The wet season means rainbows. And sure enough on the way back to our home base this evening someone was looking out for us. We got our Hawaiian rainbow.

Posted on 25/03/201327/03/2013 by Me 5

Paradise – Day Three

Started our day out with no real idea of what we would do and finally settled upon hitting Waimea Canyon on the west side of the island. Popped the top off the Jeep, loaded up the boys and some snacks, and headed northwest on the highway. We found the canyon road without trouble and started our ascent, amazed at how steep sections of the winding road were. When we reached the Waimea Canyon Lookout, we found a couple young Hawaiian men there in full native garb. They explained that they were there simply to share some of their history and culture with the tourists. They had a little basket that people were throwing donations into, so we handed each of the boys a buck and the young men outfitted our boys with garlands and spears and we snapped a couple photos. Luke told me then that “you’re not a real man unless you’re holding a spear.” So wise at such a tender age.

Seven miles beyond the Waimea Canyon lookout, you reach the pull out for views down the Kalalau Valley. It was incredibly misty, so we weren’t sure we’d be able to see anything but we trekked up to the edge of the view anyway, just in case. The clouds lifted for a minute and we were able to catch a small glimpse of the view. Steve was standing dangerously close to a treacherous drop off at one point, busily snapping photos without a care in his usual “Safety Dad” brain. I made sure to remind him that his accidental death would net me a million dollars in insurance money so he’d best be careful. After the photo op, we were starving. So back down the canyon we flew in search of food.

We found a cute little food shack back in Waimea called the Shrimp Station. Didn’t really see how we could pass that up. The menu, with the exception of a couple sides and one hot dog, was mainly shrimp dishes. Steve opted for the garlic shrimp with rice, which he enjoyed. I had the best coconut shrimp I’ve ever had. Joe tried the shrimp burger, which defies description but which he devoured. Luke, our picky eater, even ate a portion of one of my coconut shrimp so you know it had to be good. We followed our shrimp with JoJo’s Shave Ice. I’m going to need to purchase a muumuu to wear for the flight home if I persist with this eating pattern. Grateful that my new juicer is sitting in Denver anxiously awaiting my return so it can chew up some kale for me. I’m going to need it.

Replete after our meal, the boys decided swimming was in order so we hauled it back down the coast to Poipu. The boys opted to do some body surfing. I chose to lounge in the sun because although I don’t tan I would prefer to return home from Hawaii slightly less white than I currently am. Joe and Luke finally spotted a sea turtle, which made their day, and I caught sight of a couple humpbacks breaching off shore. (My fingers are still crossed that they will show for us on Monday night’s cruise.) Poipu’s resident monk seal was back in its cordoned off, private beach section of Poipu, and he was kind enough to pose for a photo for me. It was a successful afternoon of creature sightings.

As the clouds and mist began to roll over the beach, we packed it in and headed back to Koloa Town for some shopping. We purchased some souvenirs and the boys got afternoon snacks. I couldn’t resist snapping this photo. Trust me. They’re animals. Spend some time in a car with them and you will know my truth.

No idea what our plans are for tomorrow. Maybe a native garden. Maybe Wailua Falls. Probably the beach. Joe is already depressed that we’re halfway through our seven days here. Given that we received about 10 inches of snow at our house in Denver today, I empathize with his sadness about leaving the island. I’m not ready to hang up my flip flops. Is it summer yet?

Posted on 24/03/201324/03/2013 by Me 2

Live Now and Zen

Because even when it seems like a gag gift, the present is still a gift