Mon -- This was our day to checkout of the BnB near Lahaina in West Maui and move to our second location for the rest of our stay. Checkout time was noon. We hung around the house during the morning in complete leisure, reading in the living room. I got through the first half of Vanderbilt, up to the end of the Gilded Age. I wanted to finish it, and I offered to buy it from the host, but he insisted I take it, indicating the crates of books were like a free lending library. Also he said that since no one was checking in that today, that we could stay past checkout, and wanting to be lazy amidst the tropical paradise, we did just that.
It was bittersweet to finally descend the hill one last time, going past the animals (the neighborhood is technically some kind of agricultural compound)and seeing the ocean glistening in the sun below at the bottom of the slope. I burned the image into my memory, wanting to cherish it.
Then we drove across the flatlands of central Maui. Maui is like two islands in one, both mountainous. West Maui is the older worn-down volcanoes with lush valleys like 'Iao Valley where the Mauians made their last stand against Kamehameha. East Maui is bigger and consists of a single giant dormant volcano, Haleakala rising from the sea. In between in the small flat neck that connects them, swept by the trade winds, and where much of the island population lives, and where commerce and the airport take place, and where some of the best beaches are located.
The populated part of East Maui mostly likes in the "Up Country", which is the long slope of Haleakala as it descends to the flatland portion of the island. Here one finds the old ranches that have been subdivided into smaller ranches, and the homes of folks like the famous African-American billionaire talk show host who owns property there. Her place is easy to find, as we did, on the second day in our new location. The volcanic rock walls along the narrow one-lane roads and the lush green hillsides reminded me of Scotland. I can see why a billionaire would want to own property there. To our delight, we found many cows along the road.
In the Upcountry one also finds older agricultural villages like Makawao, which he had to pass through in order to get to our new location. They are being converted more and more into tourist-oriented places, but still retain their character with vintage grocery stores run by the descendants of Japanese immigrants and such. Of course these legacy businesses are both exactly what visitors cherish, and also what developers love to turn into more lucrative properties through redevelopment. You can't have both. One of the great sadnesses of the Lahaina fire beyond the loss of life was that Lahaina town was the most historic place on the island, in terms of architecture that is currently still used. There were buildings dating to when Herman Melville was here, when it was a whaling port. Almost all of that was burned to the ground. It makes one cherish what remains, as in tiny Makawao in the Upcountry all the more.
All new place was not amidst the green fields but deep in the forests on the north edge of the Upcountry. Finding it made me reflect on the nature of satellite GPS and Google Maps to open up properties for guests, because it would have been very difficult to find otherwise. The forest roads were dark even in the middle of the afternoon and signs not so obvious. I'm pretty sure I could have done it with a good paper map and directions, but compared to most people I have super powers to do that (ones that are, like most of my superpowers, completely useless in the modern world).
We punched in the gate code from the directions and the gate swung open in jerks and let us pass down a rocky lane past a small house and nearby pasture in which were running a single full-size horse and, trotting beside it, a miniature horse. We would later learn from the proprietor that they were both rescue animals, the miniature horse in particular being rescued from a petting zoo.
The actual BnB part was a second house a little further past the pasture. It was deserted when we arrived. We followed the instructions, leaving our shoes at the door as indicated by a sign. Once inside we found a large low-ceiling great room with a long wooden table, and a small area with coolers with drinks. A television on the wall was playing a video with surfers with the sound turned down. On the shelves were books and board games, and in the far back of the room, one found large windows emitting brilliant sunlight, and the entrance to a covered patio balcony with small tables and high top chairs where we would have our breakfasts during our stay. From the patio once can see through the clearing out to the northwest, providing a vista of the ocean and the West Maui mountains beyond. All of it befitting the name of the place, quite well, the North Shore Lookout.
All the rooms in the place had names befitting its location. Ours was the "Paniolo Suite", which refers to the names of the early Hawaiian cowboys. It was down a flight of stairs, below the main room and the balcony. We punched in the key code and found ourselves in a full-size suite apartment with a kitchenette, and patio doors onto a secluded private area with chairs and hammock. Only drawback was the evening mosquitos. Also the bamboo obscured the ocean view from that level. But I didn't particular mind that. Complaining about that kind of thing in "paradise" is a character defect.
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