Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty…  I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life.  I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well

Theodore Roosevelt

There is nothing easy about the Camino.  First, you must plan your Camino: finding a way to take time from normal life obligations, figuring out where to start and how to get there (made more challenging these days due to COVID), and, of course, what to pack.  Next, you must actually start walking, which brings with it both physical and mental pain.  Lastly, and perhaps often overlooked as an actual challenge by some, there is the difficult task of managing relationships along the Camino. Whether the relationship is with your travel companions, someone you’ve met and walked with along The Way, or the woman behind the bar serving you beers after a long day of walking, relationships are work.

There is a saying among Pilgrims that, “On the Camino, no one walks alone.” I completely agree.  And as proof, I recommend spending any amount of time in the Praza do Obradoiro.  There, at the intersection of all routes on the Camino de Santiago, in front of the Cathedral that bares the remains of the apostle St. James, you will see a seemingly endless precession of pilgrims entering the plaza from several directions.  The excitement is palpable as you watch them walk toward the center of the square, each showing a range of mixed emotions on their faces.  It does not take long before you hear celebratory sounds of pilgrims who have met at some point along their journey, recognize one another, and proclaim their congratulations.  Even if they arrived into the plaza alone, there is always someone there who has walked with them at some point and shared their path, their adventure, their pain, and now their success at having completed a task so physically and emotionally draining.

Jen and I have experienced this twice now, three years ago when we completed the Frances route and now just the other day after walking the Portuguese route from Porto.  After celebrating our accomplishments and taking the obligatory photos Jen, Jeremy (who had now completed his first Camino), and I proceeded to the Officina de Peregrinos to present our credenciales and receive our Compostelas.  Afterward, we checked into our hotel room, showered and cleaned up, then returned to the Praza do Obradoiro, to a little outdoor patio bar serviced by the staff in the adjoining Hotel dos Reis Católicos.

It was late in the afternoon and we had some time to kill before meeting up with our friend James and other pilgrims who had finished their Camino that day as well.  With the sun shining and songs of rejoicing in the plaza we settled in for a few well deserved Aperol Spritzers and relaxed.  As we sat there under the shade of an umbrella, the light blue sky and white fluffy clouds a perfect backdrop to the Cathedral that stood prominently before us, I started thinking about where we were.  Specifically, I wondered if every day in this plaza was full of celebration, even the rainy days.  Is Santiago de Compostela a city of constant celebration?

According to the Officina de Peregrinos, who maintain statistics about the Camino (including whether you traveled by foot, bicycle, or donkey) in 1997 the number of Pilgrims who completed the Camino and received their Compostelas was 25,000.  Since then that number has increased by roughly 5,000 pilgrims per year until reaching its height in 2019 (right before COVID) of just under 350,000.  That’s slightly less than an average of 960 pilgrims per day pouring into Santiago and culminating their minimum 100 kilometer journey with a visit to the Praza do Obradoiro.  You have to imagine that, even on the coldest, rain drenched day there were at least a handful of pilgrims walking into the plaza with huge smiles on their faces and songs in their hearts.

But the celebration does not stop once you reach Santiago and receive your Compostela.  Oh no, as we learned from our last Camino and would soon experience again, the celebrations last well into the night, every night.  And with most pilgrims facing the fact that they do not have to get up in the morning and walk another 25 kilometers or worry about where they will bed down the following night, sometimes those celebrations continue on until the early hours of the next morning.  Not for us, however.  Though, after our Aperol Spritzers, we did join up with our friend James as planned, we concluded our evening relatively early after enjoying drinks and a fantastic meal with some pilgrims that ebbed and flowed from a group of about nine to eleven throughout the night.

And this is where I tie in my original idea about relationships being work.  You see, as most people who have known me for any number of years can attest, when it comes down to it, I am terrible at maintaining relationships.  Perhaps it’s just in my nature as an introvert but I struggle to keep in touch with people, even those I consider close friends.  When Jen and I walked the Frances route three years ago I let her do most of the leg work when it came to keeping in touch and coordinating with people we met along the way.  But, when we finished that Camino I saw the fruits of her labors as we joined with all of our new friends in Santiago to celebrate.  For this Camino, I had decided to take a more active role, made much easier this time by the fact that we buckled down and paid for the international service on our cell phones.

The wonders of modern technology gave me better tools and eliminated any excuses I might have had for not keeping in touch with James and his group or adding new friends we met along the way to my ever expanding “contacts” list.  Even still, it was not always easy for me.  At times, especially at the end of the day when my feet were tired and all I wanted to do was drink a beer and eat some Tremoços, it would have been easy for me to shrug off the idea of coordinating with others on where to meet for dinner or for coffee the next morning.  There are fruits to every labor, however, and as difficult as it was for me, I did my best to stay connected with our Camino family.

This fruit turned out to be exceptionally sweet.  The last two days of walking surprised us with two amazing people, Hugo and Luiz, whom I mentioned in the last post.  The day after meeting them we had and amazing day of walking with them in both rain and shine, to the sea-side city of Vilanova de Arousa.  There we enjoyed a great meal filled with wonderful conversation, again with the help of Luis as translator.

The next day we all joined up again at the port and enjoyed a rare treat.  For the next 28 kilometers we would travel the only portion of any route along the Camino that you are permitted to travel by boat to the town of Pontecesures.  Apparently, this is the route that the boat carrying St. Jame’s remains took on its voyage back from the Jeruselem.  Whatever the reason, our legs and feet, especially Jeremy’s, were very happy to not have to walk very far that day.

From Pontecesures it was only a short 3 kilometer stroll to the city of Padrón, our last stop before Santiago and birthplace to one of Jen’s favorite appetizers, Fried Padrón Peppers.  Apparently, Padrón in the Galician language means “big stone” and you can visit the big stone where, according to legend, they tied the boat carrying the remains of St. James when it arrived.  Shortly after we arrived, and after a nap of course, that is exactly what we did.  And then I practiced my social skills and we all had beers and snacks with other pilgrims, many of whom we had not seen since well before our detour onto the Spiritual Route, who happened to be sitting at a bar in front of the church where the big stone lives.

Padrón is also the city where we planned to intersect paths once again with that of James, John, and Pascal, whom we had not seen since the day we left Barcelos a week prior.  I had been keeping in touch with James periodically via WhatsApp as we surged ahead and diverged onto a different route.  Now, as we sat there drinking and sharing stories with a wonderful, and very international group of pilgrims, in front of a church, I was not surprised when the other pilgrims mentioned James.  Many of them had met him over the past few days at some point along The Way and the conversation now moved to debate as to whether his name was, indeed, James Bond.

As the conversation and stories of James raged on my, phone began to ring as if on que, and I looked down to see that it was James calling.  As I answered the phone the hairs on the back of my neck tingled so I stood up, looked around and there, from around the corner of the church, sauntered the now infamous James Bond.  “We are in Padrón, where are you?” asked James.  “I’m in the plaza between the church and a bar, looking directly at you and waving,” I said.  James proceeded to our table, sat down, and put to rest everyone’s questions about his name by stating, “I could tell you what my real name is, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Needless to say, a good night was had by all in Padrón and the next morning we woke up bright and early for our final leg of just over 25 kilometers to Santiago de Compostela.  It was just the three of us that morning; Jen, Jeremy, and myself, but we made it out of the albergue well before the sun and found a great little café that was open and servicing every other pilgrim who was up as early as we were.

We could not have asked for better weather for our final day of walking.  The pink clouds at sunrise and low hanging fog in the mountains to the east made for some amazing pictures.  Half way into our morning we found a cute little café for second breakfast, which is where Luis and Hugo met up with us by chance.  From there the five of us continued on to finish what we started when we all met two days before, and walked into Santiago together.

Hugo and Juis were able to join us for our big dinner with James and the others in Santiago that night.  We were also extremely blessed to reconnect with Jennifer, our “Camino Angel” from when we walked the Frances route, who happened to be in Santiago prepping and doing “research” for an upcoming tour she would be leading to Finisterre.  Side note, if by some chance you should ever meet Jennifer, ask her to show you her collection of photos of all the beds she’s slept in over the years.  It’s fascinating.

Anyway, back to the story.  We wrapped up our time in Santiago by staying one more day.  The last time we were there the cathedral was still under reconstruction and we wanted the extra day to see it and more of the city.  We definitely saw more of the cathedral, including a walk through the Porta do Perdón where we were pardoned for all of our sins (winning!) and which is only open during holy years, and a tour of the roof top of the Cathedral that would make any OSHA inspector faint with fear.  As cool as that tour was, the highlight of our day in Santiago was reconnecting with a couple from Belgium, Jan and Caroline, who were on our boat from Vilanova and had taken an extra day to walk from Padrón.

They arrived just in time to see the first Precession of the day.  Did I mention that it was also Good Friday?  The precession route happened to go right past where they had booked a room for the night so they decided that, rather than fighting the crowds to try and check in, they would just join us for lunch.  After our rooftop tour of the cathedral we met up with them again and had one of the best meals ever… pizza and beers while sitting in the Praza do Obradoiro during sunset with a full moon rising above the cathedral’s Façade of the Obradoiro.

It was hard to say goodbye to them that night.  Saying goodbye to Jan and Caroline meant that our Camino was really coming to an end.  The next day we would be on a bus back to Porto and the day after that on a flight back to the States.  However, you can be sure that this will not be our last Camino.  Even Jeremy is hooked now, I think, and though it may be more difficult for him to find the time to get away, I’m pretty sure he’s already thinking about his next Camino as well. And this is where we leave you.

Until our next celebration… Buen Camino!

I was a pilgrim and you welcomed me.

Mathew 25:35

It does not matter whether you are looking for a yellow arrow to point the way, a warm cup of coffee, or a bed to sleep in after a cold, wet day of walking; somehow, with a little faith and patience, the Camino will provide for you.  And sometimes, there will even be an added bonus.

Today was supposed to be a relatively easy day.  After diverting onto the Spiritual Variant of the Camino Portugues yesterday and staying the night in the beautiful fishing village of Combarro, we set out this morning on what was supposed to be a short 10 kilometer hike up the hill and through the woods.  We even slept in a bit, knowing that it would only take us a few hours to reach our destination of Armenteira, where we hoped to find a room at the local Monastery.

The morning started out as promised, with a steep hike up narrow streets that afforded some fantastic views of the village below, then proceeding on to secluded trails through the eucalyptus and pine forests that covered the hillside.  The rain that had been forecasted for the day finally came as we crested the ridge and began the decent into Armenteira.  When we reached the Monastery, wet and cold yet full of hope, it was not quite noon.  However, we were sad to learn that they were completely full and had no room for three weary pilgrims.  Though we were disappointed, we still held out hope that we would find room in the local municipal albergue and return to the monastery that evening for the daily pilgrim’s mass and blessing.

Did I say the Camino provides? Perhaps, more accurately, I should say that the Camino provides what you need, not always what you want (queue the Rolling Stones). The municipal albergue in Armenteira was full, complete. We did not find this out until 13:00, however, after waiting for 20 minutes in the cold for them to open, which they never did and we only found out because we called the number on the door. Another disappointment but we possibly had one more option, a rather pricey looking hotel up the street back toward town.

It turns out that the hotel was not open for the season (picture a modern looking version of the hotel from The Shining) but the lady at the front desk was still extremely helpful. The next town, only 11 kilometers further along the Camino, had one listing for a place to stay.  The nice lady looked up the number and called to make sure they would have a room for us when we arrived… and they did.  Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel.

In case you were wondering, the rain had not really stopped yet so we were faced with stepping back out into the cold and slogging through the next 11 kilometers without even second breakfast, lunch, or noon cervesas (gasp!).  Jeremy and I were initially of the same mind and were all for pushing on and just getting to the end.  It took Jen only a little prodding to get us back into our right minds, however, as she suggested we head back toward the Monastery where we knew there were at least two places to choose from for both food and beverages.  As I could not feel my fingers at that time, the mention of a warm cup of café con leche was pretty much irresistible.

Though the bars were in the wrong direction, and after lunch we had to re-walk a small portion of the Camino that we had walked on the way to the albergue, it turns out that by waiting an hour we avoided the worst of the rain for the day.  Not only that but the coffee was warm, the Tortilla España was delicious, and the beers were the perfect medication for sore feet.

Fortified with lunch and beers in our bellies, we set out once more to tackle the added 11 kilometers. As we left Armenteira we immediately stepped into a new world of wonder and amazement. This is that “bonus” I was talking about. Here’s what the Camino app says, “From Armenteira the camino joins a popular trail known as the Ruta de la Piedra y del Agua. It follows along a creek, with trails on both sides, as it descends to sea level. Along the way, it passes several dozen abandoned water mills. Note that although you can safely and easily follow both sides of the river, it is the right-hand side that keeps you closer to the mills and the water.” Yeah, we chose the right side.

What should have only taken us a little over an hour, especially since it was all downhill, took us two hours.  It is really hard to walk over slippery stones and dirt trails while trying to take pictures of every waterfall and water mill that we saw.  Had we left Armenteira right away and not taken time for lunch we may not have enjoyed the walk so much as we would have been cold, hungry, and the rain would have been falling the entire time.

The Camino smiled on us during the entire journey to our next destination and then… it continued to smile.  You see, we were not the only pilgrims in Armenteira that were hoping to find a place to stay.  At the bar where we grabbed lunch was a nice Italian pilgrim who was trying to find a place to stay tonight as well.  Jen, ever the kind soul, shared with him where we were headed and, through a series of pantomime and broken Spanish, he was able to get help from the bartender before setting off on the way.

When we arrived at our destination, Os Castaños, we walked into the hotel and were happy to see our Italian friend had already arrived and was enjoying a drink and some free WiFi.  We checked in, dropped our bags in our room, and then returned to the hotel restaurant/bar to join our new friend.  We are now, after showers and some cat naps, back in the restaurant and getting ready for dinner with our new friend, Hugo, who speaks very little English.  We speak no Italian.  This should prove to be, and I mean this literally, very fun.  Thank god for translation apps and wine.

Buen Camino!

P.S. – Pictures coming soon – it’s time to eat dinner first.

P.S.S. – Pictures are added and I have more to add to this story. Shortly after I published this post a pilgrim who had also tried to get a bed at the albergue in Armenteira walked in. His name is Luis and he is from Portugal but, and again the Camino provides, he speaks Italian. Luis accepted our invitation to join us for dinner and it was a great evening. More to follow in the next post. Buen Camino!

If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn’t lead anywhere.

Frank A. Clark

How is it that you forget about the pain when remembering your past Camino experiences?  Foot pain, joint pain, these things are marginalized or completely blocked from my memory when recounting tales of our adventures on the Camino Frances three years ago.  “you should do the Camino,” I tell everyone, “it’s not too hard, anyone can do it.”  It is the end of day four of our Portugues Camino and my body is giving me some very harsh reminders.  Yesterday my Achilles heel was complaining, the day before it was my hips, and today my left knee is questioning my life choices. But I’m not the only one.  Jen is starting to feel the pain too and our companion, Jeremy, Jen’s nephew from Nebraska, is learning the hard way what life on the Camino is really like.

I feel guilty.  I look at Jeremy’s feet and toes and I think, “Did we forget to tell him about the physical difficulties of walking a Camino?  Was his decision to walk from Porto to Santiago de Compostela based on faulty information on our part?”  Possibly, but he is here now and soldiering through like a champ.  The realities of what he has committed himself to have set in by now and he has not given up.  And as our bodies now remind us of the pain we have forgotten, Jen and I are both soldiering on as well.

In total, we have walked a little over 125 kilometers from Porto to Pacos.  Our first day was straight out of Porto along the Duoro river to the coast where we then made a hard right turn and headed north to Vila do Conde.

What a difference that first day was to our previous Camino.  Relatively flat trails along boardwalks and quiet streets through coastal towns, that had not yet sprung to life for the summer tourist season, was a stark contrast to walking over the Pyrenees mountains.  At the end of the day we found ourselves at a wonderful hostel in Vila do Conde and, later that night, were able to meet up and have dinner with our friend James, whom we met on our first Camino, and his friends John and Pascal.

The next day saw us turning right again to cross over from the Coastal route onto the Central route.  The crossing was beautiful but not well marked and had us occasionally hugging the side of some narrow roads as locals sped through the villages.  As we strolled into Arcos, where we merged onto the Central route, the familiar yellow arrows again became more numerous and the Way less treacherous.  That night we stayed in the village of Barcelos where we once again enjoyed a fabulous (and unbelievably inexpensive) dinner with our friends James, John, and Pascal.  After dinner we bid farewell to them as we would be setting out early and going farther than them the next day.

Our goal is to all meet back up in Padron on the 13^th so that we can all walk together into Santiago.  However, we (Jen, Jeremy, and I) would like to do a slight detour, the “Variante Espiritual,” that adds about 40 kilometers to our journey and, if we don’t put some miles on now, we won’t be able to get to Padron in time.  So, yesterday we did another hard charging day of over 33 kilometers and walked/hobbled into the town of Ponte de Lima.

How can I describe Ponte de Lima?… I can’t, other than to say, don’t be surprised if some time in the not too distant future you see a notice from Jen and I that we are moving to Portugal and our new address will be somewhere close to this town.  We were all exhausted as we came upon the Rio Lima but the tree covered promenade that lead into the medieval village with the roman bridge and old castle walls brightened our spirits and gave us that last little boost of energy that we needed to make it all the way to where we were staying that night.  Cristina, at Casa da Travessa was waiting at the door to meet us and took us in like a mother hen protecting her chicks.  Laundry, a hot shower, a few beers and snacks, all followed by a delightful stroll around town and an amazing dinner made us want to come back to this place and explore more.  But time waits for no man, as they say, and we had a mountain to climb.

Which leads us to today.  From Ponte de Lima we walked only 28 kilometers to Paco, but the elevation was brutal.  Here’s what the guide book says, “Wonderful views await at the top of a long climb to the day’s high point at Alto de Portela Grande (400m).  Both ascent and descent are quite rocky and can be especially challenging in wet weather.”  It was supposed to rain today so we expected the worst and hoped for the best.

Luck was on our side as we only had a little spittle of rain for five or ten minutes in the morning.  The sun came out shortly after and shone most of the mid-day as we descended Alto Portela.  In the afternoon it looked as if it might really start raining so we made a short stop and broke out the rain gear.  Of course, in true Camino fashion, as soon as our rain gear was on the rain stopped.  Oh well, we only had 5 kilometers to go.

And here we are.  Right now I am sitting in front of a fire in a stone house that is over 200 years old.  We are the only pilgrims staying here tonight (so far) and it feels special.  The owner just came in to check on us and say, “welcome home.”  It does feel like home, if only for tonight.  Tomorrow, we will be back on The Way and crossing the border into Spain.

Bom Caminho.

Nostalgia, it’s not what it used to be.

James Bond – the one we met on the Camino, not the international spy.

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It is hard to believe that it has been a year since we started our Camino. I think about it every day so maybe that is why it feels like only a short time ago that we lived that experience. Though we may not see them every day, or ever again for that matter, the friends we made on that journey are life-long friends and we cherish that time we spent walking the Way together.

I know I said previously that this blog is finished but I think I get a pass on anniversaries like this. Besides, I want to share with you how others that walked with us are processing and sharing their experiences. Our friend Gina, whom we walked with for only three days, finally posted on her podcast a couple of the interviews she did with fellow pilgrims during her Camino:

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/saturn-returns/id125418987

Shortly after Gina interviewed Thomas and Ulli, she and Thomas sprinted ahead of us toward Santiago. They only had a limited time to walk the Camino, whereas Jen and I did not have any agenda and could take our time. Regardless, our experiences with them at the beginning of our Camino will live on in our memories, in Gina’s podcast, and in this blog. In fact, I wrote about one of those experiences here:

Of Bulls and Pilgrim Jokes: A Camino Story – Vol. 2

Thank you Gina for sharing and I can’t wait to hear more of your interviews. Listening to this one brought back so many memories that are still clear as day in my mind. I’m not ashamed to admit that I get a bit emotional, in a good way, when thinking back on all that Jen and I experienced on the road to Santiago and this podcast had double the affect.

I once heard it said that one’s Camino is never really finished. Looking back to where we were a year ago, where we have gone in that year, where we are now, and of course where we are going to… I feel comfortable continuing to say to all of you,

Buen Camino!

This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is perhaps the end of the beginning.

Sir Winston Churchill

Well, this is it.  This is the last post to this blog.  As the song and the Ecclesiastical verse it was based on goes, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.”  Summer has come to an end and Fall is now here.  Though, living in Florida we wouldn’t really know this if we didn’t have a calendar to tell us.  It’s still over 70 degrees outside today.  But the leaves are falling somewhere which means change is in the air.

What I’m trying to say is that our Sabbatical is now coming to an end.  Technically, it came to an end shortly after we got home from Hawaii because I took a job on a ship on the West Coast (for more info check out this article: https://gcaptain.com/us-orders-large-scale-turbo-activation-of-ready-reserve-force-ships/).  But that was a temporary gig that only lasted a week so I’m not sure that really counts.  It did get us back into a different frame of mind, though, and now we are looking at job postings and talking about our next “career moves,” (yuck).

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Don’t worry; we will not stop traveling just because we are going back into work mode.  After all, we’ve done a hefty amount of traveling in the many years preceding this sabbatical.  It’s hard to imagine we will give all that up just to become another pair of worker drones in the American economic hive.  What’s the saying?  Work to live, don’t live to work.  Yeah, that’s the goal for us, I think.

So what does this mean for you, dear reader?  Since this blog was developed specifically for this sabbatical, an end to the sabbatical means an end to the blog.  Don’t worry though.  One good thing to come from writing this blog (at least from my perspective, anyway, you may feel differently) is that I discovered that I actually enjoy writing.  Okay, that’s not exactly true.  Nobody in their right mind enjoys writing.  It’s a lot of work.

Kurt Vonnegut, one of my favorite writers, said that when he writes he “feels like an armless, legless man with a crayon in his mouth.”  After writing this blog I finally understand what he means.  But, even though writing is work, I think I actually like it.  So, with this blog ending, I’ve decided to start a new one.  Instead of being a rundown of our now mundane, ordinary, work-a-day lives the new blog will focus more on the short stories and ideas that I have floating around in my head.  It’s called Stuff Mike Writes, which is about as creative a title as The New Adventures of Jen & Mike, but it works well for the web address (which, by the way, is: www.stuffmikewrites.wordpress.com).

So, from the bottom of our hearts, thank you to everyone who read this blog.  Jen and I both hope that it added a little enjoyment to your lives and possibly sparked that tiny need for adventure in all of you.  For all of our new friends from The Camino and Hawaii, we love you all and can’t wait to see you on down the trail someday.  Until then, remember the words of the late, great Robert Louis Stevenson who said, “For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.  I travel for travel’s sake.  The great affair is to move.”

Buen Camino and aloha everyone!

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No matter where you’re from, no matter what religion you practice, your ethnicity, race, or anything else – what is it that can bring us together as people? It is, what we call in Hawaii, aloha… sincere, deep love and respect for other people as children of God.

Tulsi Gabbard

I have a valid excuse this time for not writing this post earlier. Jen and I got back home from Hawaii on the 17th but I was back on a plane heading west on the 20th. Here’s why: https://gcaptain.com/us-orders-large-scale-turbo-activation-of-ready-reserve-force-ships/

We found out about the activation when we landed in Jacksonville and I read the above article. “I bet I’m going to get a few phone calls about this,” I said to Jen. And, wouldn’t you know it, later that evening I did. The next day I received two more calls. Long story short, I signed on for a 7-10 day activation on a crane ship based out of Alameda, CA. I will write more on that experience later but for now, and without further ado, here’s the blog post about our week with Uncle Chip and Auntie Mari in Oahu.

The flight from Maui to Oahu was uneventful and, best of all, cheap.  Did you know Southwest Airlines flies between the islands?  Our tickets were only $49 per person and the plane wasn’t even full.  Jen took the window and I spread out in the aisle seat, leaving the middle seat empty.  It’s always nice to travel by plane and not land feeling like you paid a lot of money to be stuffed in a tin-can like sardines.

Jen was able to look out the window and get a bird’s eye view of Molokai as we flew over, and of the southern coast of Oahu.  I don’t think she quite expected to see so many sky scrapers in Honolulu.  If you’ve only been to Maui or seen the Big Island from the water, it would be easy to assume that Oahu isn’t much different from the rest of the islands… but oh, oh it definitely is.

Chip was right there to pick us up when we landed and had a box of Jen’s new favorite fruit, Longan, also called dragon eye fruit, sitting in the passenger seat.  The tree in Chip’s back yard was finally bearing fruit after being dormant for many years.  Now he had too much and was forcing everyone he knew to eat them, which wasn’t hard because they are like little candies that taste like sweet melon balls.  Even their dog, Noelani, was crazy for them, though we had to keep pestering her not to swallow the seeds.

As we munched away on the fruit, Chip drove us north on the freeway up toward the North Shore where they live.  He made a quick detour to show us the Kukaniloko Birthing Stones, a sacred site where Hawaiian royalty were born.  Then we did a drive through Haleiwa so we could see the sites.  I saw a Starbucks there so immediately it did not have the same charm as Lahaina did.  Once that was done with we headed down Kamehameha Highway as Chip pointed out Waimea Bay, Pipeline, Sunset Beach, etc., all the way until we reached the little cow mailbox which marked the driveway to their house.

You never know quite what to expect when someone says, “Hey, we have a little cottage on our property.  You should come stay with us.”  The word “cottage” could mean many things and Jen and I worked to keep an open mind as we traveled up the dirt drive to Chip and Mari’s house.  You learn a lot about someone when you sail with them on a small boat across a huge ocean, and we were fairly confident that we would be pleasantly surprised when we got there.  But there’s always that chance that some people can be quite different in their “natural habitat,” as it were, than the outside environment where you first became acquainted.

When we reached the end of the driveway and saw the cottage, well… minds=blown.  It was amazing.  Cottage, according to Chip and Mari anyway, must mean two bedroom house complete with kitchen, bathroom, and front porch.  Needless to say, we were stoked.  Not only was the cottage nice, the whole property was like the Garden of Eden.  Chip was growing everything from Dragon Eye Fruit and lilikoi (or passion fruit), to coconut and cacao.  This, we thought, was better than any fancy hotel or bed & breakfast.  We quickly unpacked our bags and made ourselves right at home.

It’s hard for people like us, people from the mainland, to really understand or explain in words what “aloha” is.  There is, however, no mistaking how it makes you feel.  It was everywhere in Hawaii.  From our new friends in Maui, to Chip and Mari on Oahu, and even the people you meet on the street or at the supermarket (yes, Jack, I’m talking about you again: https://newadventuresofjenandmike.home.blog/2019/09/12/times-like-these/).  The week we spent on Maui was an introduction to aloha and our week with Chip and Mari was an immersion into it, like seeing a coral reef through clear water from above and then just diving right in to swim among the fish.

We lived like locals, we were locals.  If we met another local on the beach who looked at us with suspicion all we had to do was say we were staying at Chip and Mari’s place and they opened up their arms to us.  This, by the way, is how Jen got to play beach volleyball several evenings while we were there.  The people running the games even asked Chip if we could stay another week so that Jen could continue playing with them.  It was a very, very tempting offer.

Now, just because we were trying to be locals doesn’t mean we didn’t do some touristy stuff.  On our first day we drove to Pearl Harbor and paid our respects at the U.S.S. ARIZONA memorial.  We also visited the U.S.S. MISSOURI which is now a museum ship parked close by.  The peace treaty ending the war with Japan, and WWII as a whole, was signed on her decks.  As one museum host put it, if you visit the ARIZONA and the MISSOURI, you are seeing where the war began and where it ended.

We also did a “round the island” tour with Chip and Mari one day.  Well, we tried to go around the island but a downed pole a couple miles up the road prevented us from making a complete circumnavigation.  But we did our best and were able to take Jen to see Waikiki.  That stop lasted just long enough to realize we were not missing anything by staying as far away from it as possible.  For those who have been to Hawaii and only seen Waikiki, I’m sorry but you have not seen Hawaii.  That would be like going to Disney World and saying you’ve seen Florida.

From Waikiki we headed east.  A friend had suggested we check out the view from the top of Diamond Head, which was one of his favorite memories from his time in Hawaii.  His time in Hawaii was several decades ago so, though he had the trail to himself back then, our climb up the crater wall was an ant trail of tourists all struggling and sweating to see the same view their friends posted on social media when they vacationed in Hawaii last year.  Despite the crowds, we made it to the top and the view was very nice.  Checking that item off my bucket list we cruised back down and continued our island tour.

From Diamond Head we continued east to Makapu’u point where we had an amazing little picnic lunch prepared by Auntie Mari.  From our perch atop the cliff we could look out at the beach below and the entire windward coastline up to Kaneohe.  It was easy to see how people like Chip could move out to Hawaii from the mainland over 35 years ago and suddenly call it home.  Away from the city streets and sky scrapers of Honolulu, the traffic and the tourists, this was still a beautiful tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

The rest of our time in Oahu was spent mostly on the North Shore.  One day we didn’t even leave Chip and Mari’s place.  We picked up coconuts with Chip and he showed us how to shuck them and harvest the water and meat.  Then we made lilikoi juice.  And then we roasted cacao seeds so that Chip could make homemade chocolate later.  For Jen it was like being back at home on the farm in Nebraska canning tomatoes and veggies from the garden… except it was Hawaii.

Most afternoons we would walk across the street to the beach where Jen would pick up a volleyball game, Mari would throw the ball for their dog Neolani, and Chip and I would look at the surf.  I even paddled out with Chip one evening just to float around for a bit while the sun went down.  In the evenings, after cleaning up in the magical outdoor shower, we would walk over to the main house for cocktail hour and help make dinner.  It’s hard to believe, but not one meal did we have out at a restaurant.  We didn’t even get any Shave Ice.  The hospitality and aloha shared by Chip and Mari was truly amazing and Jen and I will forever be grateful to both of them.

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There are those who would tell you that, if you’re going to Hawaii, don’t bother with Oahu, go to one of the other islands.  Oahu is too overcrowded with tourists, too modern, there’s too much traffic, etc., etc.  In short, it’s not what it used to be when our parents and grandparents would visit.  And I get that.  When you go on vacation you want to see white sand beaches and palm trees like they advertise on that website banner that keeps popping up ever since you googled “Hawaii.”  That’s great, but the reality is that everyone wants to see that same thing and everyone will be there with you, standing in the background of what was supposed to be your perfect Instagram pic.  Get over it.  That’s what traveling is like and, yes, that’s what Oahu can be like.  But don’t avoid it.  Oahu is a beautiful island and, if you break away from the flocks of other tourists, go out and find your own path, say aloha to as many people as you can… well, you just might find out for yourself what I’m talking about.

Aloha to everyone.

The highest possible stage in moral culture is when we recognize that we ought to control our thoughts.

Charles Darwin

Making landfall after being at sea for 33 days on a small boat with only four people aboard would have resulted in culture shock no matter where we arrived. We should count our blessings then that we arrived in Maui, as opposed to say New York or Los Angeles. Why? Well, not only were we greeted by a small group of instant friends, as described in a previous post, but Maui tends to keep its unwashed masses pent up in certain areas that are easily avoided.

That sounds harsh, I know, so let me clarify a little better… the throngs of tourists stay mostly at the resorts and typically only wander around the island in groups carried by giant buses. This was good for us as we had grown accustomed to only seeing the same three people every day. Coming ashore in Maui allowed us time to re-acclimate to society at our own pace. If we wanted to be around people, we knew where to go. When the crowds got too thick, we could retreat back to our safe space at the harbor or at Keao and Iwa’s house.

Oh, also let’s not forget that Maui is stunningly beautiful, so that’s another good reason for making landfall there. From the day we arrived to the day we flew to Oahu, we spent a little over a week. The majority of the time we stayed on KAINANI at the marina and explored the Lahaina area via bicycles. Shout out and many thanks to Keao and Iwa for letting us stay on the boat and also for lending us the bikes… and the snorkel gear… and for letting us swim in their pool… and for just being two totally awesome people. It’s no wonder they have such a great group of friends around them.

The Lahaina area is a great place to stretch your legs and explore. We took the bikes to several beaches where we snorkeled or just admired the views. We sampled some of the local restaurants. We took advantage of some of the resort facilities. We even learned about the history of Hawaii during a free tour at the Old Lahaina Courthouse, which offers free tours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

While snorkeling at Black Rock we saw several sea turtles, a group of eagle rays, and Jen saw her first shark, a harmless white tip reef shark that scared the bajesus out of her. Of all the tropical fish that we saw, both of us agreed that our favorite was Hawaii’s state fish, the humuhumunukunukuāpuaʻa, also known as a reef triggerfish. Sorry, no underwater camera available to take a picture. Just look it up on Wikipedia or check this out:

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Eventually, the time came when it was necessary for us to venture out and explore more of the island. Even with only two of us on board, the boat was feeling cramped and hot. Also, I am a magnet for mosquitoes, apparently. Everyone says there aren’t many on the island but, however few there are, they seemed to all find me on the boat and made a meal out of me every night. I was in desperate need of a slightly bigger place, free from bugs, and with a little air conditioning.

On Friday we hitched a ride with Iwa, Mari, and Nahiku to the airport to pick up our rental car. They were on their way to the Ulu Festival (Ulu is the Hawaiian word for Breadfruit) at the Botanical Gardens in Kahului. After picking up our rental car we joined them there and learned a lot about this staple of Polynesian food. What we mostly learned is that we love it. After the festival, which was free by the way, we headed up the valley from Kahului and explored an area called the Needle. Besides being a beautiful landmark with amazing mountain ridges and streams, this is also the site of the last battle on Maui, where the future King Kamehameha defeated his rivals and took control of the island.

We spent one more night on the boat but made reservations for our last two nights at an AirBnB that was reasonably priced, which is something of a miracle on Maui. Then we hopped in our little rental car and scurried up to the top of Haleakala, the now extinct volcano that formed much of Maui. Let me tell you, that was like going to another planet. Jen and I felt like we were on Mars. The air was thin and cold and the clouds rolled by like fog. We hiked along the Sliding Sands trail down into the crater valley for a mile or so and were stunned when the clouds pulled away and revealed the Martian landscape.

We descended the mountain in the afternoon and checked into our place in Kihei, which was perfect for what we needed. The next day, revitalized from a night with A/C and showers, we met up with Iwa, Keao, and Nahiku for an early breakfast at a great place called Down the Hatch, which is owned by a friend of theirs. It was kind of weird to say goodbye to Keao after seeing him every single day for almost two months straight. After expressing our thanks as best we could we got back in the car for what would be a full day of driving. Our mission? The road to Hana.

I’m sure many of you have heard of this road. Like a right of passage for tourists in Maui, the road to Hana is a winding and twisting path that tests the stamina of even the most propitious of stomachs. If you love waterfalls, tropical plants, and beautiful beach coves, it is also a must see. So we saw it. It took all day but we did the whole route. From secluded, semi secret, waterfalls to black and red sand beaches, we spent the whole day in awe as we circled around the base of Haleakala. At the end of the day we ended up in Kula and had a great dinner at Kula Bistro, which was recommended by Iwa and, we heard, is one of Oprah’s favorite spots. No, Oprah wasn’t there.

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Another night of A/C and showers had us feeling refreshed and ready for our flight to Oahu the next morning. All in all, Maui was a great experience. Jen and I agree, though, that had it been a typical vacation; you know, one where you fly in as a tourist as opposed to sailing across the Pacific to get there, it would not have had the same magic. But why dwell on things that are not? Instead, we are focused on the experience we had… and it was awesome.

Aloha and mahalo nui loa for reading these silly blog posts.

Hawaii is not a state of mind, but a state of grace.

Paul Theroux

I am such an idiot. There’s a lot to write about our stay in Maui but, right now, I have to share this story about how oblivious I can be. We are currently in Oahu staying with Uncle Chip and Auntie Mari. They have a cute little cottage on there property on the North Shore. It has it’s own kitchen and refrigerator so Jen sent me on a grocery run to the store up the street while she cleaned up after her run.

So, after wondering down the aisles for quite some time I headed to the checkout counter and got behind a guy that had a ton of groceries in his cart. There was another lane open but that was full of young surfer dudes and I figured my chances were about 50/50 that one line would be faster than the other, so I stayed with “a ton of groceries guy.”

Being my usual self, I was more interested in reading the tabloid headlines than checking out the world around me. After all, you’ve been to one grocery store, you’ve been to them all, right? The guy in front of me was making small talk with the checkout lady but I didn’t give it much thought other than what a nice small town feel this place has where your local grocer knows your name. Then one of the surfer dudes says “hi” to the guy in front of me and I think again about the niceties of small town living.

Then the light bulb went off, well not immediately. Let me clarify, the surfer dude didn’t say “hi,” he said, “hi, Jack.” This is why I’m an idiot, because it took me several long seconds to put the pieces together. I took a good long look at “a ton of groceries guy” and still didn’t believe what my brain was telling me. Here’s what it said:

“You are on the North Shore of Oahu. You are shopping at the only Food Land in the neighborhood. What celebrity musician did Chip say lives in his neighborhood and he sees all the time at City Council meetings?”

No, I said to myself. This guy? Long story short, yes this guy. I’ll be honest, I’m a huge fan of Jack Johnson but I’m not the kind of fan who memorizes what his favorite musicians look like. I like his music, who cares what he looks like. But there he was, “a ton of groceries guy” was, in fact, Jack Johnson.

Before you ask, no I did not ask him for a selfie. Just because I’m a fan doesn’t mean I have the right to bug the guy while he’s shopping. After all, who wants to live in a world where a man can’t go out and do his own grocery shopping without being accosted. No, I prefer to keep things personal and professional. If a moment presented itself to strike up a normal conversation with the guy in line in front of me, I’d surely take it. Other than that, I felt it was more polite to let the man just be.

As luck would have it, I did get to speak with Mr. Johnson. Walking out to the car I noticed Jack being approached by one of the surfer dudes from the other grocery lane. A couple seconds later, they were taking a selfie. As I got into the car I thought to myself how nice it was that a big time celebrity like Jack Johnson was still so down-to-earth. Here he was out in public, without an entourage, doing his own grocery shopping, and still taking time out for his fans (at least the ones who recognized him, that is). I backed out of my parking spot and started rolling past Mr. Johnson, who smiled and waved at me as I did the same.

“Hey man,” he said through my open passenger window, “be careful, this is a one way parking lot.”

“Thanks Jack,” I said back to him. And that was it. That was my brush with fame. Like I said, I’m an idiot.

To young men contemplating a voyage I would say go. The tales of rough usage are for the most part exaggerations, as also are the tales of the sea danger. To face the elements is, to be sure, no light matter when the sea is in its grandest mood. You must then know the sea, and know that you know it, and not forget that it was made to be sailed over.

Joshua Slocum (first person to ever sail around the world alone)

This morning, after 33 days at sea, we sighted the big island of Hawaii.  I would like to add and addendum to Capt. Slocum’s advice, which would be to include young women as well.  Go.  You’re not getting any younger.

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Anyway, we were all very happy to make landfall this morning as it means we are only a day away from Maui.  The wind died off this morning so we are motor sailing off the coast of Hawaii and are currently about 7 NM off of Hilo.  Tonight we will cross the Alenuihaha Channel and anchor off of Lanai in the morning.

The only downside to being close to land again is that we now have cell phone coverage again.  It was a very quiet morning for several hours as everyone had their attention diverted from sailing to their little black mirrors.  But this is the world we now live in, I suppose.  Sooner or later we would have to face the real world again so why not just get it over with.

Despite the lack of wind the weather is absolutely beautiful.  This side of the Big Island is green and the scent of dirt fills the air.  We will go through our regular daily routine one last time today.  Tomorrow everything will be different.  Change is the only constant, I guess.  I just hope that tomorrow won’t be like ripping off a band-aid.  It shouldn’t be.  The Hawaiian islands are a great place to ease back into “society,” in my humble opinion.

One thing to note: tomorrow Jen becomes Hawaiian.  According to Keao and Chip, if your first visit to Hawaii is by boat than you are considered a true Hawaiian.  Her tan certainly is dark enough for that, even if her hair is still as blonde as Barbie’s.

We plan to stay in Maui a few days and then maybe head to Oahu for a few more, though we have yet to make any definite plans.  There are too many variables at the moment to make any bookings, but we didn’t come all this way just to hop on a plane and fly home.  So, the next post I write will be from somewhere on one of the islands.  Until then,

Aloha!