Hawaii - Jeff Campbell [222]
Stop at What’S Shakin’ (964-3080; snacks $6.50-10; 10am-5pm) for all-fruit smoothies almost too thick for the straw. Eat lunch on the covered porch while perusing the venue’S hula kitsch.
Like the Old Mamalahoa Highway (Click here), the road crosses a string of one-lane bridges over little streams through humid jungle, while African tulip trees drop their orange flowers onto the road.
An overabundant nature preserve with 2500 species of tropical plants from around the world, Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden (964-5233; www.hawaiigarden.com; adult/child 6-16 $15/5; 9am-4pm) is an entertaining spectacle that epitomizes ‘tropical jungle’: a mile-long paved path winds amid streams, pretty waterfalls, ocean view points, dangling heliconia, dazzling blossoms, towering palms – all of it a quivering, crowded mass of photosynthesis and Kodachrome moments.
On either side of the gardens are Na Ala Hele trailheads leading to rugged Onomea Bay. The southern trailhead has easier parking and access, and the trails themselves connect, leading quickly to rocky coves, a stream, waterfalls and a dramatic finger of land jutting into the turtle- and shark-filled bay. Divers like this spot, but rough surf and the ‘tax collectors’ (sharks) tend to discourage swimming and snorkeling.
On Hwy 19 between the 6- and 7-mile marker, near the drive’S southern entrance, Baker Tom’S (964-8444, 27-2111 Mamalahoa Hwy; malasada $1.35-3; 6am-6pm Mon-Fri, 7am-5pm Sat & Sun) is a fantastic roadside malasada stand. Get these fresh-from-the-oven puff pastries fruit-filled or savory, but get them.
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HILO
pop 41,000
Hilo and Kona are like mismatched cops in a Hollywood buddy movie: Kona is the sunny optimist, the blonde-haired, good-looking goof-off always flirting with the doe-eyed suspects. Hilo is the cranky realist in the ill-fitting gray suit suspiciously poking holes in everyone’S alibi, the one who cracks the case and, as credits roll, gets stuck with the paperwork.
Yet Hilo is comfortable being the unglamorous one. Perhaps that’S because it knows life is tough: it’S been knocked down twice by tsunamis (in 1946 and 1960), threatened by Mauna Loa lava flows (most recently in 1984), and it gets rained on two out of three days a year (statistically speaking). Its population – a polyglot mix of Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Filipino, Portuguese, Puerto Rican and Caucasian immigrants, in addition to Native Hawaiians – is largely working or middle class. Many families came originally to work the sugar plantations, and they stayed because the community became their life.
So if tourists prefer Kona two to one, Hilo residents just shrug. Who can blame them? Sure, Hilo’S walkable downtown has an unpolished weathered charm, full of historic buildings, interesting museums, art galleries and great local food. Yes, it’S perched on a crescent-shaped bay cradled by lush rain forests, and is close to Hawai′i Volcanoes National Park, Mauna Kea, the offbeat wilds of Puna and the Hamakua Coast. And certainly, Hilo wouldn’t mind more tourists, but not if it means changing (or more traffic, or higher real estate prices). Residents would rather live in ‘scruffy old Hilo’ – a real place with real people – than remake their home into a fantasy to satisfy visitors and mainland transplants.
In fact, ‘the rainiest city in the USA’ has a lot to offer: sandy coves flecked with sea turtles, a wealth of friendly B&Bs, the island’S best farmers market, and much more. What about the rain? Hilo’S secret is that most showers pass quickly, leaving balmy, sunny afternoons in their wake. When they don’t? Open your umbrella.
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APRIL FOOL’S DAY, 1946
On the morning of April 1, 1946, Hawaii’S worst tsunami struck without warning. Along the Big Island’S Windward Coast it destroyed railroad bridges and Hilo’S bay front, and 159 people died. In Waipi′o, the water filled the valley like it was a bowl, but no one perished. At the plantation