You say "Hedonism", I say "sensory life experiences"

Today is our final full day in Hawai'i.

The last four days have been resort-based, and consequently the activities have been mostly "civilized" rather than "rustic".

We have done snorkeling at several Kohala Coast beaches, several rounds of golf, some walking, several restaurants, and several drinks.  The magic is undiminished.  We awaken each morning to a sunny sky, brilliant blue ocean, and wind and surf right outside the door.

For our last night MJ has scheduled a capstone experience, to be detailed in the next post.

Meantime, a few impressions, omitted deliberately from the previous episodes:

The State of Hawai'i, and particularly certain resorts including the Mauna Lani where we are, market very strongly to tourism from Japan.  There are many Japanese travelers here.  When we encounter them we are taken with their consistent smiling demeanors, their obvious entrancement with Hawai'i , their seeming delight in all they find.  Especially prominent are young couples who opt for the "romantic"attractions like surfside individual dining.  There was a wedding right out from our room  yesterday.  Dave overheard one of the staff at the front desk refer to a couple who had registered as "on our Japanese package."  Maybe that's a better deal than mainland Americans get.  We shall research this, and next year perhaps we'll visit as the Henrioru family.

Japanese are evident, but we've met people from many foreign countries in the three weeks we've been here - UK, Australia, France, Russia, Romania, Indonesia (Singapore), China, Canada, Scandinavia, Netherlands, the Caribbean.  (I'm tempted to put the family from Alabama and the family from Detroit in this category but shall refrain).  Some times and some places, mainland Americans are probably outnumbered here.  And a lot of the non-Americans play golf - very well.

Golf.  One last post.  We played with Steve Howland, a sous-chef from the Fairmont Orchid down the road, and a once-aspiring professional and good player.  Mauna Lani South Course, #15, championship tee, 205 yards, 25 mph crosswind, driver, 15 feet from the pin.  BOTH MJ and DAVE PARRED, AGAIN!

Birdie op.  Fail!

The surface of the ocean is an abrupt and powerful water/land interface.  Here only a few species, such as the hono (sea turtle) or the fishing birds, move comfortably between.  We humans can do it but not comfortably.  Any land animal which has never put face into water and looked below has no idea of the teeming (cliche, yes) life below.  Snorkeling (or diving, maybe next time) in the clear cool water here is a must, and we will do it again and again.

The Canoe House Restaurant is in our top one or two ever.  The salads were works of art.  MJ had pork ribs, Dave had monchong.  The wine was Kistler 2010 Le Noisetier chardonnay.  The dessert was skipped.  The table was beachside and special, perhaps because we got the concierge to make our reservation.  The bird was back, and is, we learned, a blue heron (see previous post).  The totality was transplendent .....

Monchong and seaweed

..... except for the woman at the table behind us.  "My audiologist is telling me I need hearing aids right now, but I don't think so, so I've been putting it off."   Lady.  Get the hearing aids.  Please.  Now.

People are so addicted to, have so fetishized, their cells and other devices.  Whether in airport gates, waiting to take off, at the coffee shop, on the lanai, at the pool, on the beach.

Mauna Lani coffee shop this, and every a.m.

I wonder if some would go insane if they were deprived, even momentarily (hence the young woman on both planes who was hiding her laptop from the stew during takeoff, hoping not to have to do without.  Come on, man!)  To me, it's kind of sad to see people sitting right at the surf's edge, staring dully into their phone, hardly bothering to look up.  Oh, maybe to take a picture occasionally.  Then back to the scrolling.  Meanwhile, the Big Island is entertaining/performing it's ass off, right there.

There will be, I hope, a special circle in the lowest part of Hell, for those with mouthpiece, head phones, and laptop who barge into a quiet, reflective group of readers or conversers, and who blast away because the entire universe has been distilled to the small space between their two earpieces, and the rest of us have been, simply, erased from their conscious awarenesses.  And may that Hell also include a rotting option, for the dude doing real estate deals at the Beach Tree Bar, forcing others to move away from him, and prompting apologies from the bar management when the dude left after finishing the last of his calls.

There.  That's that.  Been wanting to do that.  Feels great.

Sitting on the deck, watching the ocean, feeling the breeze, hearing the surf, glancing occasionally at the thong bikinis (where were those when I was 19?).  No, strike that last part.  I just made that up.   Trying to store enough of the complete everything about being in Hawai'i to tap when needed, when sitting on my back patio in Tucson in June.

One last poolside reverie:

Next post:  about tonight.