Travel

Dining Outside the Home: Tortilla Republic in Kōloa, Kauai 

Dining Outside the Home: Tortilla Republic in Koloa, Kauai. Located in the center of activity at Kukui’ula Village Shopping Center with a perfect vantage point for dining al fresco, is a Mexican restaurant serving classic dishes using the freshest local ingredients. The cantina atmosphere sets the mood with handmade wicker furniture and authentic Mexican art before you ever take that first swipe of salty chips and chunky salsa. Enjoy margaritas and live music while savoring food grilled to perfection. 

Up, Up, and Away

Ascending miles above the town on hairpin curves, where the air turned thin and cool, we wound our way to the Waimea Canyon Lookout Point towering 3400 feet above sea level. At the edge of the parking lot, an ambitious entrepreneur set up an umbrella-shaded fruit stand. Dozens of cardboard crates were piled high with fresh cut bananas, avocados, passion fruit (lilikoi), mangos, dragon fruit, and pineapples, plus a refreshing natural juice bar was on hand. We absorbed the vibrant colors and ripe aromas for a few moments before continuing on. An uphill climb on a concrete footpath led us to the crest of the lookout where we received the most amazing surprise! “It’s a rainbow!”, I exclaimed from the ridge-top formation. Dividing the sky in half, between rugged mountain formations and low lying clouds, was the most brilliant arc of light illuminating the scene. Without a doubt the landscape before us was a celestial masterpiece beyond human sensibility. We stood there in awe….and then took countless photographs until it dissipated into thin air. 

Discover the Sandwich Islands 

Often you find yourself looking so hard for something that is standing in plain sight. The elusive Captain James Cook monument appeared right under our noses in the business district of Waimea Town. Knowing Cook was the first European to arrive upon Hawaiian soil in 1778, we had been logically searching for the historical marker near the water’s edge in a small county park during our previous visits. Suddenly, there he was standing erect between the parking lot and main road. Talk about feeling foolish. While Gerald kept the car running, I jumped out and snapped a couple of shots of the guy who named Kauai and Oahu “The Sandwich Islands”. 

Once a Film Location; Always a Destination 

Driving west on the island, the scenery changes dramatically from sandy beach to mountain peaks. We made a pit stop in the historical village called Hanapepe, which literally means “crushed bay” in Hawaiian due to the landslides occurring over time. I had my mind set on buying a miniature bamboo rolling pin to match the one I got there three years ago. It’s something I could imagine using in Gail’s Kitchen back home. Mission accomplished. A quick walk about in this sleepy little town told us people come and go as frequently as businesses do, while the old-timers hang on remembering better days. Time passes slowly where locals revel in library cards and starving artists try to close a sale slashing prices for more wall space. Once a film location for “The Thornbirds”, now a destination for always.

Dining Outside the Home: Duke’s Canoe Club and Barefoot Bar in Lihue, Kauai 

Dining Outside the Home: Duke’s Canoe Club and Barefoot Bar in Lihue, Kauai! Put the lime in the coconut and eat it all up. Crispy Coconut Shrimp covered in spicy lilikoi sauce is an ALOHA favorite from the pupu menu at Duke’s. This casual restaurant sits at the edge of Kalipaki Bay with an oceanfront view in honor of the native Hawaiian, Duke Kahanamoku. He was a six-time Olympic champion who made the sport of surfing real at the age of 21. Nowadays people flock to the restaurant for food, spirits, music, and the infamous Hula Pie! 

Dining Outside the Home: Hukilau Lanai in Kapaa, Kauai 

Dining Outside the Home: Hukilau Lanai in Kapaa, Kauai. A table for two was nestled against the nontraditional Hawaiian pine tree whose vivid boughs were as feathery as ringlets on a toddler’s head. Golden pineapple ornaments dangled in scattered formation among exotic hula dancers and bamboo ukuleles while background music played softly overhead. The master chef’s menu for the night before Christmas presented itself with a culinary experience long remembered.

Water Spouts on the Horizon 

“The whales are out! I’ll bring some binoculars to your table,” exclaimed the casually dressed blue-eyed waiter in flip-flops as he offered us two menus. It was “Happy Hour” at the Beachwalk Restaurant and Grill on the east side of the island and Markus wasn’t referring to the side effects of their signature Bloody Mary cocktails. He was all-Kauaiian native with his ivory-carved octopus medallion choker and long dark hair tied back into a knot at the nape of his neck. 
Humpback whales can be seen from shore at any number of locations around Kauai, but peak season is during the winter months of January and February when most of the calving occurs for them to mate and birth their young in the warm, tropical waters. It was a little premature for their inaugural appearance, but we still caught a glimpse of their water spouts on the horizon. 
Presently, we had a nice balcony front-row seat for watching seaside activities. When the humpback whales refused to make another appearance, we simply observed a class of elementary schoolchildren participating in Field Day activities as tag-team cheers exploded from the sidelines. 
Roosters with bright red combs and plumed tail feathers strutted back and forth demanding attention until an ambitious tourist tried to capture their images on film. Only then would they kick up their taloned feet and strut away crowing a “cock-a-doodle doo” in defiance. 
By now the famed fish and chips entree had appeared and we both sunk our teeth into the depths of pinnacle exclamatory utterance, practically rolling our eyes back in culmination. If this wasn’t a taste of Heaven, then we had no idea what was.   
We sat there until the afternoon delivery of sweet onions, fresh garlic, and garden produce arrived and our appetite had long been sated. Five bamboo swizzle sticks scattered topsy-turvey on the signature cocktail napkins were all the evidence left remaining of an afternoon spent in open-air tropical bliss and latter day delight. 

Dog-Day at the Beach 

Dogs love to play at the beach. Running through the water makes them very happy. As a master grabs a frisbee and tosses it across the shoreline to be retrieved by a shaggy red Irish Setter, it’s enough to pause a pick-up game of sand volleyball. Heads turn. Everyone waits to see it happen. When it does, you hear “Good boy!” as the dog races back, tongue dangling, and tail wagging ready to go again. I watched as two terriers fought over a piece of driftwood a guy tossed into the ocean. The smaller of the two was more aggressive, obviously the Alpha Dog, since it would clamp its teeth around the stick and shake its head back and forth until the larger one backed down and relinquished it. Napoleon complex? I thought all dogs loved water, but upon closer scrutiny, I saw a ten-year old girl cradling her pet spaniel as she stood waist deep with salty waves splashing her mid-section. This dog had a mortal fear of water and had no intention of entering the unpredictable ocean. I wonder if she assured it all dogs instinctively know how to “doggie paddle”. At least, I thought they did. On the other hand, maybe this species of man’s best friend tended to sink like a sack of bricks when submerged. I’ll have to ask “June” the next time I see her. 

Here Today and Gone Tomorrow 

Farther up the bay past the mound of black lava rock, a strange object came into view, undoubtedly washed ashore overnight. Debris of some sort lay flanked on the sand left behind by high tide. Its size resembled a small boat, but was shaped more like the curve of a single engine plane, except it had two grooved pipes protruding from it. Small, grayish-white crustaceans or barnacles of various sizes, as well as swarms of flying gnats, added to the mystery that sent our minds spinning with sinister tales of Barnacle Bill. A cloudy dense jellyfish, looking like a pile of goo with a lingering odor as though it had rotted days ago, still clung to the rim of the debris further substantiating our ideas of a watery grave. What was the untold story? Without revelation, during the night the sea slipped in, hoisted the plank upon a wave, and ferried this mysterious object back out into open waters. Here today and gone tomorrow.