So by this stage 'Hawaii Life' had completely set in for us. No need for phones, watches, or underwear. The joys of going command on a tropical island are second to none.
This was an adventure day, as most Sunday's are. So we got up had our guava smoothy for breakfast and headed off along the coastal road, in search of a beach.
As we were driving I had that strange moment when the background music, in this case ukulele and slide guitar, cuts through everything else and you have a sudden realisation as to what's actually playing. And what was playing? A ukulele version of Bohemian Rhapsody... true magic.
Eventually after passing a cluster of multi-million dollar properties and their accompanying mansions, the road started to get smaller. Pot holes began to appear, the lamp posts and 'side-walks' disappeared, and the jungle began encroaching on the tarmac. We came across a small access road that indicated a beach, so we turned down and found a car park.
Laura was lucky enough to spot a giant lizard, or 'Gizzard', upon exiting the vehicle. This meant we were eyes-pealed on the walk down to the water. Coming out of the trees we once again found ourselves gawking at a picture perfect beach. Golden sand, blue ocean crashing on the shore, palm trees blowing gently in the warm breeze.
This was Oneloa Beach, also known as Big Beach.
I had seen on Google Maps that there was another smaller bay called Little Beach just a scramble over the small headland to out right. That seemed to be the best bet, so we trudged through the deep sand towards the old lava flow.
A small path had been forged by other beach goers, so following this we climbed up until we were able to look down upon the majesty of both beaches. The sun was hot, but the basalt under our bare feet was hotter. The cool ocean beckoned as we scrambled down the rocks to Little Beach.
It was perfect, we got down to the sand, there was a man to our left sheltered by and umbrella, playing guitar and singing soft Island songs. There were people splashing in the water. There were people sun bathing, frisbees being thrown, chilly bins with cold drinks being opened, saggy balls gently swaying in the wind...
WAIT, WHAT!?!
Saggy balls? Wrinkly butts? Breasts that have given up and let gravity do its job?
Little Beach was a nudist beach, and we were the youngest people on it by a good 40 years...
It wasn't the nudist beach that I had issue with. Any of you know that I would gladly strip down to the nip for a cheeky skinny. But when you are the only person without grey hair it makes for a different story.
Laura and I, with our eyes fixed on the horizon, walked the 200m gauntlet of sag to the end of the beach, and then happily pivoted back towards Big Beach. Before we made it back though there were a few opportunities to make a joke on 'Little' Beach, much to my amusement.
Back at Big Beach it was time to swim. And swim. And swim some more. We lay in the sun too, just to dry off before getting wet again. We stayed like this until the wind picked up and blew so much sand at us that weeks later I'm finding grains as I comb.
So to the end of the road it was.
For those who don't know, Maui looks like a misshapen '8'. There are ring roads that go around both of the 'o's' that make up the island, except where we were the coastal road ends, so if you wanted to circumnavigate, you'd have to drive back towards the airport before meeting the 'ring road'. Not important, but it makes for a good little travel tip. Anyway, the road ending meant that I had to go there.
If there is ever an opportunity to go no further, I am drawn in like a moth to something that can go no further!
Towards the end of the road, the road became more of a track. Clearly unmaintained. As we bumped over the lava field we noticed 'keep out' signs warning of 'Ex Military Test Zones' and 'Unexploded Mines'. That explains why the road ends then.
We eventually got to the end and had to wonder why the rental car company didn't want us going up the mountain, but were fine with this!
The end of the road saw where lava once came and explosively met the sea. This meant lava tubes, and when you pair that with the surf, that means blow holes. Laura and I spent a good period of time playing near the blow holes, trying to avoid getting splashed, then giving up and standing right in the firing line to cool down. There is a proper hiking trail that you can take, unfortunately we just had jandals, so someone will have to tell me what it's like if you go.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of heading back to our beach for a swim, shaved ice, and some much needed shade. Corn chips and salsa sufficed for dinner, then off to sleep... we had and early day coming...
