For years I shunned the idea of visiting Hawaii. Too commercial. Too many outdated surfer boys, too many hula girls on dashboards, umbrellas in Mai Tais and jokes about getting "lei-ed." Where was the adventure in Hawaii? How would the budget-minded traveler find her place amid the high-rise condos and beaches of Waikiki? There was a whole world to see and Hawaii was the familiar boy next door. I stayed away, convinced it was better left to some suburban, middle-aged vacationers who only ventured out once and year and didn’t want to bother with a foreign language or cultural discrepancy.
One day I was lured with a free ticket. Even though I admit that I went under the wrong circumstances, how could I ignore the glorious beaches, the wonderful assortment of tropical fish witnessed on my first snorkel at Kihei and subsequent ventures to Molokini crater? I was awed by the spectacle of light and color viewed from the top of Haleakala at sunrise with its lunar landscapes. It was with sheer amazement that I gazed at the infinite ocean and sky while being at the highest point on the most remote island chain in the world. To find that a foreign culture did exist in the context of the United States of America, where the water was pure and the air was clean, somehow surprised me. This was my first date with Hawaii and I was definitely interested in the second.
That came soon enough under much more auspicious circumstances. I flew into Lanai and was dazzled by the unique ambiance this little island, only miles from Maui, presented. A four-wheeled Jeep expedition down rutted dirt roads across the entire length and breadth of the island expanded my awareness for some of the more intimate and complex qualities the islands might offer, while the beautiful, reserved elegance of the Lodge at Koele provided a comfort and sense of welfare that I had never before experienced and certainly never expected from Hawaii. This was as far from clique high-rise hotel as one could get.
Returning to Maui on the same trip, I checked into the sublime Four Seasons in Wailea, and began sensing the inevitable enchantment being conjued before my eyes. On a day drive to Kapalua during a picnic on the outer stretches of the lava-formed rock outcroppings that drop dramatically into the sea above Honolua Bay, I became even more certain that I had found my paradise at last.
Still needing to know more, I returned once again to Kauai and found that outpost, hurricane-ridden island one of the most spectacular sites to behold. This time the whales with their little tikes in tow splashed and slapped to our great amusement. Every afternoon a light rain shower brought with it a myriad of ubiquitous rainbows - double bows, high bows, into the sea bows, barely visible bows and bows that glared with every color of the spectrum before disolving as quickly as they appeared out of nowhere. Now, like a lover who suddenly reveals they can dance, Hawaii was marveling me with its seemingly unending reasons to love it.
Visions of Maui persisted. In the dentist’s chair I dreamed of the beach at Kapalua, in traffic I drifted off to snorkeling at the Bay, during meditations I found myself constantly returning to the perfection of joy and peace that Maui had unveiled. Even while preparing for surgery and working through accepting the pain of life's inevitable personal losses, I turned to Maui for comfort. It became for me a touchstone and lighthouse of life beyond the rocks.
The allure had become undeniable. Realizing this, it was time to take the next step. When I returned to Maui for the fifth time, it was with intention to stake a claim. We bought property and considered the true possibility of making the island more than a once in a while destination and dreamland.
I’ve worried at times that it’s too good to be true. If you get what you always dreamed of, what do you dream of next? I wondered if staying on the island for extended periods of time would bring wanderlust. Would my head be turned somewhere down the road for a more beautiful and desirable spot? I decided to test the infatuation.
Since then we’ve made dozen trips staying as long as three weeks at a time. I’ve read volumes on Hawaii’s history and culture, explored the upcountry and wandered through outlets off the beaten track. Observing the locals and the natives, the tourists and the travelers, I hoped to see things through oother eyes. I’ve continued to wallow in the spirit of Aloha that is truly palpable here.
So as not to be swayed by the obvious allure of this "vacation" fling, I waited to become disenchanted. I looked for flaws, examined my conscious, and cooked and cleaned to prove I wasn't mistaking room service for love.
Still, I found myself defending Maui's superiority during discussions with fellow travelers at distant ports. I learned to swat off detractors with carefully thought out counters to any objections.
My real, true love took me away to Bali and Bangkok, Malaysia and Mexico, CostaRica and Cabo, the Outback and the Outer Banks, the Inner Passage, every charted Caribbean island so that I may be sure. I love to seek the new, of course, I write for a travel site! Yet, nowhere have I found a spot so serene, so pristine, so able to capture my attention like this one.
As time marches on the proof of love is revealed. Does it continue to inspire, to compel you to be better in the face of its radiance, to make you seek to understand more, to want to know it ever more deeply? As you learn more of its subtleties and intricacies, its complexities and surprises does that love grow even stronger?
So it has been with me and Maui. The more time I spend there, the more I find to love there. The Hawaiians say it best, "Maui, No Ka Oi," Maui is the best.