Hanalei’s Calming Effect

Heart-shaped taro leaves glistened in the afternoon sun, waving a welcome as we rattled over the rusting, one-lane bridge to Hanalei. The span, too narrow for the lumbering motor coaches carrying wide-eyed, eager tourists, means the big buses can’t come here.

That bridge is Hanalei’s salvation. And after a mad scramble to find a suitable vacation spot at the last minute, Hanalei proved to be our salvation too. My husband, Steve, and I had long planned a vacation to China and Japan, but in May, less than a week before our trip to Beijing and Tokyo, the NATO bombing of the Chinese Embassy in Kosovo threw our travel plans into turmoil. The growing anti-American sentiment prompted us to scratch China from our itinerary. But we kept Tokyo and added Hawaii, the only other place we could get to on such short notice--and on Memorial Day weekend.

The chaos that clouded the start of our vacation continued in Tokyo, where we hemorrhaged yen and stressed out trying to navigate a massive city where we could pronounce nothing and read even less. By the time we arrived in Hawaii, we were broke and nearly berserk.

Honolulu wasn’t the antidote, so we hopped a flight to Kauai and set off to find a place untouched by global worries and wars. We found our gentle reality in a most unexpected place.

Honeymooners know Kauai for its cluster of posh resorts on the southwest side of the island, which have kept it high on the radar for romantics. Splurging on a convertible at Lihue Airport, we headed the other way, going north on the Kuhio Highway.

We drove through mile after mile of sugar cane fields, the road sometimes flirting with the ocean and other times bisecting dairy farms and horse ranches. It was late afternoon when we pulled into Hanalei, a town of 500 tucked in a fertile volcanic valley of the North Shore, between the mountainous jungle of the Na Pali coast and the Pacific Ocean.

Hanalei is the Hawaii that has not yet been seduced by the siren song of tourism. It has none of the glitz and glamour some have come to expect in the islands. For those who require that, there’s nearby Princeville, where a luxury resort anchors a planned community of condos, complete with a shopping center and the top-rated Princeville Golf Club.

But we were in search of something simple, where we could follow our own rules and maybe find some romance after the rocky start of our trip.

We found it when we crossed that bridge to Hanalei. Here, roadside flower stands operate on the honor system: Drop $5 in a box and pluck an armload of exotic stems from the plastic bucket. In the evenings, the local radio station broadcasts reports of found pets and lost surfboards. Drivers are patient with one another, and a dog asleep in the street is to be driven around slowly and carefully.

Our one regret: We were staying in Lihue, about 40 minutes away, because that was the only affordable room we could get on such short notice. But once Hanalei captured our hearts, we spent all our time there.

The first rule we decided to follow: Eat everything that smells good. That dictated an immediate pit stop at Tropical Taco, a mobile taco truck parked by a fruit stand at the edge of town. We joined a small, tie-dyed crowd of locals queuing up for fresh fish tacos, cooked to order. As I waited for the fish to fry, I strolled over to Moonflowers, a small cottage tucked away from the road and nestled beneath the trees. Inside, the shelves were stocked with an unexpectedly rich array of antique glass and silver, handmade keepsake boxes, jewelry, soaps and lotions. I passed on the henna tattoos, but the silver bangles for $8 were harder to pass up.

By the time I returned to the picnic table, Steve had sucked down my share of the strawberry banana smoothie, and Emily the Taco Dog, a blond puff of fur on four very short legs, was eyeing my half of the fish taco. That made it necessary to employ Rule No. 2: Eat quickly and don’t offer to share.

Back in the convertible, we continued north about a quarter-mile toward the “town” of Hanalei. Everything but the ocean was green. Mt. Waialeale, with its perpetual cloudy cowlick, may have invented the color green. Towering 4,000 feet above Hanalei, Waialeale is drenched with 460 to 600 inches of rain a year.

We smelled Hanalei before we saw it. The mouthwatering aroma from Bubba’s Burgers, smack dab in the middle of a three-block cluster of shops and restaurants, begins about 10 each morning and doesn’t dissipate until after sundown. With names like the Double Bubba, the Slopper and the Hubba Bubba, these burgers are not low-cal. We were forced later in the trip to invoke Rule No. 3: On vacation, calories don’t count.

O ur days began with a breakfast burrito at the Hanalei Wake Up Cafe, where the bright turquoise surf motif made it feel as though we were dining underwater. Our coffee cups were refilled several times each morning as we deliberated over which beach to visit first.

Heading north from Hanalei, a right turn on any street will take you to Weke (Hawaiian for “fish”) Road, the beach road that runs along Hanalei Bay. Sheltered from the heavier seas that bash the rest of the North Shore, the placid waters are perfect for swimming and sunning any time of year. It’s two miles of wide, palm-fringed platinum sand, so it’s easy to find your own spot to float on your back and watch the Hawaiian sun swing toward the sea.

It was the beaches, in fact, that provided much of the soul soothing we found in Hanalei. Each is different in character, a small treasure of sculpted shoreline.

Some of them may look familiar. An odd sense of deja vu settled over me until I learned that Hanalei and the surrounding area have starred in more than 20 motion pictures.

At Lumahai Beach, for instance, Mitzi Gaynor of “South Pacific” fame threatened to wash that man right out of her hair. Unlike Hollywood, these stretches of sand lack complexity and pretense. For instance, to reach the trail head to Lumahai, at the far end of Hanalei Bay, you cross another one-lane bridge and drive past a meadow where a lone white horse grazes. The trail head, unmarked except for the presence of half a dozen cars, appears to lead straight into the jungle, but after just a couple of minutes’ jaunt, the dense undergrowth ends and you stumble onto the beach. Obsidian-colored volcanic rocks protect this small, sandy cove from the sea.

Glorious by day, Lumahai is even better by moonlight. The path to the beach is navigable in the dark, even if you’re carrying a bottle of champagne, which we were. We spread out a blanket on the sand, which glowed like platinum in the moonlight. Except for the wild chickens, or moa, rustling softly in the undergrowth, we were alone.

T unnels Beach was our next find. Named for the shape of the waves as they break along the reef, Tunnels is known for snorkeling. About five miles beyond Hanalei, a sign advertising lemonade and leis marked the five-car parking lot for the beach. Sheltered enough for swimming, it has a stunning view of famed Bali Hai, the jagged mountains shaped like the squiggles on an EKG, and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of friendly, colorful fish.

Beyond Tunnels, the road narrows and winds as you drive slowly past the stilted million-dollar beach houses crouched behind hibiscus hedges. At one point you plunge, car and all, into a stream. The road ends in a large clearing beneath the banyan trees at the edge of mango-colored sand. Beyond the leaves, the Pacific glitters like a blue promise. This is Kee Beach.

At Kee, a reef-rimmed lagoon for snorkeling lies directly beneath chunks of mountain that stick up out of the sea, glimmering like giant, uncut emeralds. Out on the point are ancient rock terraces, heralded as the birthplace of hula. The large terraces and altars, called heiaus, scattered around Kauai were built by ancient Hawaiians who passed the stones, hand to hand, up the steep hills. Take the narrow, rock-lined path up to the ancient heiau above the sea, and look carefully at the volcanic cliff. There, modern-day hula dancers wedge leis and hula artifacts into the crevices of the rock in honor of Hiiaka, who taught the art of hula to ancient Hawaiians.

No matter how small, every town has one place where you simply must eat. A twinkle at dusk behind a constellation of tiny white lights, Postcards, in a little green shack that was once the Hanalei Museum, serves fish and pasta with a tropical Thai panache.

From our corner table on the lanai, the view of Mt. Waialeale was so stunning that we could hardly tear our eyes away to make a menu selection. Our waitress had to list the dinner specials twice. The ahi, she insisted, “hopped out of the water and into the boat this afternoon.”

“Hopped?” I asked.

“Well, we like to think they volunteer,” she offered. The volunteer became the appetizer, followed by ono (a white, halibut-like fish) slathered with macadamia nut butter and nested in garlic mashed potatoes. Under the narcotic influence of plumeria and the warm breeze, Steve broke rule No. 2 and offered to share his pineapple upside-down cake with me. He may have been sorry; it was so good he probably got no more than three bites.

With little to do but eat, explore beaches and snorkel, we found the days slipping away too quickly. On our last night, we were again on Lumahai beach in the moonlight. Until this trip I had never understood how mariners navigated by the stars. In Hanalei, set against the backdrop of a clear night sky, the North Star was so bright that we mistook it for a low-flying airplane and were dumbstruck when it remained just where it was.

We wish the same for Hanalei.

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GUIDEBOOK

Heavenly Hanalei

Getting there: United has nonstop service from L.A. to Lihue Airport on Kauai. You can also fly Hawaiian, United, American, Delta, Continental or Northwest to Honolulu or Maui and connect on Hawaiian or Aloha to Lihue. Round-trip air fare begins at $462.

Where to stay: North Shore Properties Ltd. offers about 130 properties around Hanalei for $600 to $7,000 a week. P.O. Box 607, Hanalei, HI 96714; telephone (800) 488-3336, fax (808) 826-1188, Internet https://planet-hawaii.com/visit-kauai.

Irene Holland rents four cottages (one to three bedrooms) on Weke Road, half a block from the beach, for $800 to $1,200 a week. They come with hot tubs, bikes and bodyboards and are decorated as second homes. P.O. Box 974, Hanalei, HI 96714, tel. (800) 546-0100 (access code 01) or (808) 826-9190, e-mail kickbak@stonemedia.com.

Where to eat: Postcards serves breakfast and dinner; dinner reservations are recommended. Breakfast $7 to $12, entrees $16 to $22, nightly special $27. Tel. (808) 826-1191.

At Hanalei Gourmet, bands play nightly and during Sunday happy hour. Entrees $7 to $15. The adjoining deli offers picnic fare. Tel. (808) 826-2524.

Hanalei Wake Up Cafe offers breakfast, $4 to $8; lunch, $6 to $10. Tel. (808) 826-5551.

For more information: Hawaii Visitors and Convention Bureau, (800) 464-2924 or (808) 923-1811, Internet https://www.gohawaii.com.