We got up at 6:00AM and by 7:00AM we were downstairs spending at least 20 minutes doing fun things with bungee cords (not those kind of fun things) to get everything attached to the bike for the trip to Hana before we set out on the big adventure.
Hubby stopped by the aquarium to tell me we needed to talk about turning around because of the rain. At this point, I hadn’t felt any rain so I didn’t know what he was talking about. He decided we’d keep going and pick up rain-gear in Paia, where we were planning to have breakfast at Charley’s.
Before we go there it started really raining, so we ended up at Wal-Mart. Luckily, thanks to Keith Olbermann, Wally’s had just agreed to withdraw the lawsuit against Debbie Shank, so I didn’t have to feel too guilty about shopping there. I still think Wal-Mart is scum, only to be patronized in dire circumstances, just like McDonalds.
Not so luckily, Hubby wanted me to stay with the bike because he was taking the ukulele to Hana and it was bungeed to the bike. Then it started reallyreally raining.
Low point of vacation #2-Me getting soaked while Hubby is in Wal-Mart trying to find rain ponchos. Hubby had never been a Wal-Mart before and was unprepared for the size. It took a long time. I was getting cold, wet and extremely pissed. I went and stood near the store where it was dry and pretty much prayed for someone to come and steal the damn thing, which naturally didn’t happen.
When he came out, we decided to abort the mission, with the possibility of trying again the next day. I happened to know that JoLoyce, the owner of the B&B we were going to, hadn’t booked anyone else for the week because she was having cataract surgery. I called and asked if we could come on Thursday instead which is what I’d originally booked. (Grrrrrr. I hate second-guessing myself and having it go wrong.) Of course, once we got back to Lahaina, it was nothing but sunshine.
We went to breakfast at Hecocks again, but this time it wasn’t as good. Our waiter was a guy who looked like a fishing boat captain and seemed to have both an attitude and a hangover. He may also have had some issues going with the bus-boy and the kitchen.
When my cheese and mushroom omelet arrived, it had obviously been sitting for awhile under the heat lamps. It was icky and the rice was beginning to dry out. I bought myself a chocolate macadamia bar for solace and went up to the room to catch up on email and LJ and also to do some laundry.
Once all my wet stuff was dry, I went outside for some well-deserved hot-tub time.
While hubby was disappointed in not getting to Hana, there was a massive silver lining. There’s a show called “Masters of the Slack-Key Guitar” which he’d really wanted to see, which is only on Wednesday nights.
He’d confirmed reservations after breakfast, so after a shower we got on the motorcycle and headed to Napili. The show is held every Wednesday at the Napili Kai Beach Club, a very nice, expensive resort, which feels like an exclusive retirement community, even moreso since we were told the restaurant closes at nine, which made absolutely no sense, since the Masters of Slack-Key Guitar show is very popular and in our case didn’t end until 10:00PM. Why wouldn’t they want to serve hordes of hungry rich people? I just don’t get it.
The show is hosted by George Kahumoku Jr. with a rotating group of guest musicians who come in to perform. At our show, we saw Dennis Kamakahi. Both of them have this nice mellow style, complete with rambling story introductions to each song that go nowhere, but still get a laugh. Slack key is a very mellow, jazzy style influenced by the Spanish who introduced the guitar to the Hawaiian Islands.
There were also two “next generation” performers, Stirling Seaton, a guitar player and Peter deAquino, who played Ukulele, making hubby very happy.
I liked the show, and was also doing some writing during it, but I would have enjoyed it more if I didn’t have a sugar crash around nine.
A sugar crash (my own phrase) feels different than just hunger. It’s a feeling of being numb and empty-headed. Barely able to walk or find words that go together to make sentences, compounded by screaming hunger.
I assume the effect has something to do with the family history of hypoglycemia, but I’ve never taken a GTT, so I’m not sure if I’m “officially” hypoglycemic or pre-diabetic. Maybe it’s just me being too hungry.
Hubby had a pizza craving, so even though he’d been bugging the girls at the Napili Kai for some recommendations of places to go for local food, we ended up getting a pizza at Gaby’s Pizzeria at (you guessed it) 505 Front Street and taking it back to the room. Because of fuzzy brain, I got cheese & mushroom, instead of sausage & mushroom, but it was still delicious.