Day 1: Don't Ask, Don't Tell?: We are in Kona!

November 17, 2014

The day started well, as we awoke to the familiar sound of our smartphone camping alarm, and found Dave already working on coffee and Egg McBagels, as we call them. Avi and Violet were quite cheerily getting ready for school. Our shuttle bus pickup arrived on time, and so on. We arrived at the Hawaiian counter at the airport, and were pleased to see the staff all apparently Hawaiian, with flowers in their hair.

The happy illusion contnued until our bags were on the belt, and the agent casually asked the blockbuster question: "Any camping gear in there? Anything like a stove?" Conditioned to tell the truth, and knowing that we had taken care to source gas cannisters only in Kona, Dodie mentioned the MSR Superfly. The agent dragged out a three ring binder and rather enthusiastically read us out the fine print clause in the Contract of Carriage that prohibited not only gas cannisters or liquid fuel, or a stove that had once used liquid fuel (no matter how cleaned), but also a gas or liquid stove even if new and never used .

We seized on the proviso that Hawaiian "reserves the right to refuse to transport" the listed items. With the innocuous little stove in hand we asked to speak to the station manager. She was adamant. Her only regret, she said, was that we had failed to read the rules, though she did admit that this was not an FAA requirement, and was unique to Hawaiian.

It was the iron fist beneath the flowered hair. Our only option, she said, (other than to throw the lethal object into the garbage) was to mail it home, or mail it to ourselves in Hawaii. (Apparently it would be OK to risk blowing up a USPS transport).

Since the true risk of this inert piece of steel is zero, and since the crazy policy was seemingly unique to Hawaiian, I chose, and talked Dodie into, another option. We just took the thing through security. It was very clear in the x-ray, we saw, but no problem.

Maybe we got off lightly. Hawaiian had more stuff up its sleeve. Down the fine print page I noticed they will not carry tires of any description. The finer, fine print stated that this applied to tires for installation even on a golf cart. So clearly our spare folding tire would have been banned. And maybe I would have needed a firm of lawyers with me to argue that the tires in the pile of bike parts that comprise our Bike Fridays over in those discreet regulation sized suitcases, are already installed and not "for installation".

Suddenly our laid back Hawaiian escape was starting to feel like a trip to the grand jury. The mixture of laid back and GRRR continued at the gate, where Dodie approached the desk to ask whether, with her knees really slowing her down at this point, she could have advance boarding. To ask this question, she was told, she would have to go stand in the fifteen person long "ask a question" line. We just went and directly joined the other gimps in the advance boarding waiting area.

In that area we met Christine, a young woman who had glitched her knee rock climbing. Once on board, I swapped my window seat for her aisle seat, so she would have a ledge to rest the leg against. Best would have been the seat just ahead, by the restroom. There is some legroom there. But though the seat was unsold, Christine could not sit in it because apparently it goes for a higher price. This, anyway, was what the Iron Fist said.

So I settled back in my aisle seat and watched the soothing Hawaiian images on the touch screen console. I plugged my iPod ear buds into the console, to see if they would work (airlines of course gave up handing out ear buds years and years ago). I did not leave the buds in my ears, though this radical act would have been permitted on our recent Air Canada flight, so long as the phones would be connected to the plane system and not your own, during takeoff. I closed my eyes, but was soon prodded by the Iron Fist. "No phones to be plugged in during taxi and takeoff" was the apparent small print regulation.

Now, the 1/4" phone jack did not extend from the console further than the "just as lethal looking" but apparently safer tray table clip. Should I call the legal team now?? OK. I thought (and surely you the reader are now also thinking) COOL IT, STEVE!

So here we are with four hours of restful clouds to look at. Did I mention that they want $7.99 to show you a movie or listen to a record album on that video console? Or how about an economical game of Solitaire - only $6.99. Don't get me started (again)!

Did we take a wrong flight, to Vegas? Where else do you have to pay to play cards.

Kona!

Our first impression of Hawaii was that wonderful in a greenhouse feel that you get in the tropics. It has been 3 or 4 years since we have been this far South, and we had rather forgotten this wonderful aspect. (It's wonderful, of course, until you realize that you are sweating like a pig.)

The next impression, formed from the air, is that the whole place is a lot bigger here than on the maps at home. Of course, we know that Hawaii is bigger than 2 feet by 2 feet! No, what I am talking about is the imagined size when gazing at the map. You look at it and think, oh, we could cycle that bit in a day. And so forth. But now, actually looking at Haleakala and at the west side of Maui, it looks big. And the mountain behind Kona? High! The Kohala Coast? Long!

On the other hand, from the air, big looking or not, it calls out to us. "It's summer down here - get cycling!"

One other thing we were not ready for was the extent of the presence of lava. The entire Kona area is built on or beside mammoth lava flows. It is all apparently a'a - the rough stuff, like when you melt chocolate incorrectly. Coming into this area, the ocean is right there, the mountain is right there, the lava is right there. It's no holds barred amazing.

The Kona airport is swell. It is comprised of little huts, and is mostly open to the outside. There are no long concourses here, Just a casual stroll through a courtyard to the baggage pickup. Our stuff pops off immediately, and in good order.

We followed a sign toward a shuttle, but did not particularly see one, although there was a direct phone one could use. We were pondering this, when an attractive Hawaiian lady asked if she could help us. We said we were looking for a shuttle, and she turned out to be the shuttle lady. It was so casual, I was wondering if she was truly "the one". But she was, and shortly a large new van turned up and swallowed our stuff in one gulp. Then our friendly driver slowly motored us down to the Kona Seaside hotel. The charge - $23 - totally reasonable.

The Kona Seaside by European standards is super deluxe. Large room, balcony with water view, fridge, coffee maker, wifi, air conditioning - all American standards, and this is the cheapest place in town. At $110 it's not totally cheap by Mainland standards, but we are happy with it.

We sweated (literally) over the bikes for quite a few hours. So many fiddly bits get disassembled for fitting into the suitcases!

With one bike done, we took a break and wandered over to "Splashers", the nearest restaurant. Our chicken burgers had really good grilled chicken in them, and lots of fresh lettuce and tomato. It really was about as good as it can be.

Back in our room around 9 p.m. it is definitely cooler, but not cool enough to stop sweating. We expect it will not be like this the whole time. In fact, up on the volcano we predict we will be freezing.

Some lower slopes of Haleakala (on Maui) from the air.

The Kohala Coast on the Big Island - see the huge lava flows.

A story of Pele, the goddess of the volcanoes

A hibiscus closeup - there are flowering trees everywhere

Airport parking. Palm trees are an exotic life form for us!

An unfamiliar bird in the street. (Later identified as a non-native Mynah by Karyn in the Guestbook).

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