It’s been two days since we returned from Hawai'i and we’re both still shaking off a terrible case of the jetlag. On the flights home between a slew of B-rated airline movies I found myself removing that characteristic red dirt from my fingernails, which I considered more a sign that I didn’t surf enough than a result of poor personal hygiene.
During those two weeks we balanced our time with the ocean / outdoors and catching up with the friends and ohana we said aloha ‘oe to almost two years ago. Two weeks was obviously not enough. We crashed on lanais, conversed with marine mammals, slept under stars and daily reveled in that contentedness you get after having a home-cooked meal followed by good conversation over a few beers.
One of the books I read on the trip was Steinbeck’s “Travels with Charlie.” In it, Steinbeck travels around the U.S. in an RV (along with his French poodle Charlie) in the ‘60s searching for the essence of what it is to be American. Throughout his journey, he discovers that each trip has its own personality and that “like a marriage, the certain way to wrong is to think you control (the trip). We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.”
Our trip to O’ahu, which included four days on Kaua’i, definitely took us, but it was probably the best trip we’ve taken to date.
As we walked to our gate to catch our flight I saw a tear running down Molly’s face, but it was as much a tear of joy as it was for sadness that we had to leave.
And though we’ve been away from our ohana there for nearly two years, like the dirt under my fingernails, there are still parts that will always stay with us.
Next up: Hiking Kauai’s Kalalau Trail and playing basketball with dolphins.
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