And you thought I was done...

Odds and ends from Kaua'i that didn't fit in to other posts.

I mentioned that Honolulu Airport was of the open-air variety. There were several pigeons (or doves, or something) wandering around eating little tidbits from the floor, and sometimes scaring us by flying close to our heads. It wasn't until almost the end of our long layover that we noticed they all had injured feet. Most were missing toes, one was missing its whole foot.

On the way home, we asked one of the ticket agents why that was, and she said it was because they sit on power lines. 

A dubious explanation at best.

So the mystery remains.

I have mentioned the outdoor showers.

This is the second one.

The one with all the mosquitoes.

Other than the pesky mozzies, I thought it was kind of a nice idea.

Except for in the morning when there was no hot water because the water is solar-powered.

The tricky part is the no door thing, which we somewhat alleviated by tying my beautiful new sarong across it.

Which brings me to another point, ladies.

If you ever go to Hawaii, you need a sarong. Sarongs have many uses, as illustrated above. Some days, when we returned to the cottage, all hot and sweaty and tired, it was heavenly to strip off and go native in the sarong. I'm afraid that if I lived there, you would have trouble getting me to wear real clothes.

Carrying on.

Our "rustic" cottage was a haven for pooping geckos and many varieties of insects. I am pretty sure I saw a few cockroaches, and the ants appeared every time there was something lying around that looked remotely like food. 

Take, for example, this one. I was sitting on the gecko-poopy couch one afternoon, reading The Book, and I happened to look down on the floor. A few tiny ants were scouting around and one had found this rather large beetle. Darn me if the ant didn't manage to pull the beetle a few inches. He gave up and we left the cottage a short time thereafter, but when we returned, the beetle was gone. I have to assume that Mr. Ant gathered his friends and subsequently demolished Mr. Beetle.

Pretty impressive.

We have not discussed the chickens of Kaua'i, other than to complain about the roosters crowing at night. 

The joke is that chickens, especially roosters, are Kauai's state bird. All kinds of touristy paraphernalia sport slogans and pictures of the colourful roosters.

They rule parking lots, highway shoulders, back yards, everywhere. 

Little chicks following their mom is a common sight.

This is the garden of our first rental. See the chickens on the grass?

Rooster by the ficus trees of Allerton Gardens.

The reason for the prevalence of feral chickens on Kaua'i is debated, but it is certain that the Polynesians brought them to the islands as a food source. The numbers seemed to proliferate after Hurricane Iniki, when many chicken coops were destroyed and cockfighting roosters were also released. Add to that the lack of any predators on the island and I guess it's a perfect storm for an abundance of chickens. 

They say that the chickens are tough old birds and not worth cooking. 

I say, Let me at 'em. I would find a way to make them edible.

On our last night, we drove up to Hanalei to see the McMasters in concert. Doug is a masterful slack key guitarist and Sandy accompanies on a tenor ukelele. 

Slack key is a fascinating and gorgeous style of guitar music. The evening was one of the highlights of our trip. Sandy's talk of aloha and how it can affect our lives deeply affected me. Doug has to be seen to be believed. He is so relaxed and his fingers move so easily on the frets that his guitar almost looks like it is playing itself.

I highly recommend watching this short video for an extremely abbreviated history and explanation of slack key guitar.

You can see more of Doug's playing style in this video, as well as some of the island sights. 

Slack key guitar is probably the most relaxing music I have ever heard.

It rained hard the night before we left and Saturday was grossly humid. We decided it was a good day to be leaving. We hung out at Starbucks in Kapa'a for a few hours, enjoying the air conditioning and using their wi-fi. One more casualty before we left. I got caught up in my netbook cord as I arose from my chair and the Acer fell to the floor, damaging one of the hinges. It still works, but doesn't close properly.

This trip was a bit wearing on our belongings. 

And our bodies, considering I came home with about a hundred mosquito bites. 

Jeff got about ten, but his nose was much more sun-burned than mine.

By the time we were about to embark on the second leg of our flight home, we were feeling very travel-weary. So when the ticket agent offered first class upgrades for a couple of hundred each, I looked at Jeff, he looked back at me, and I said "Wanna do it?"

So we did it.

It was the best six-hour flight of our lives. To be honest, it was somewhat intimidating. We had no idea how to work all the gizmos on the seats and we were constantly making gaffes that showed up our first-class naivete. 

Jeff slept the whole time and I didn't want to get off the plane when we arrived at San Fran. 

It may be a dangerous precedent.

Things I loved about Kaua'i:

It's a small island. Everything is within about an hour's drive if you stay somewhere central.

Gorgeous scenery. Everywhere.

Snorkeling.

Church.

Shopping. We spent hours looking for the perfect Hawaiian shirt for Jeff, who is very picky.

Slack key guitar. If we ever go again (which is doubtful) I would go to several concerts.

Hiking. Especially accidental hiking friends, whom you meet wherever you go.

Costco.

Art galleries. I would have come home with so much more art if we had checked luggage and if Jeff didn't get that look on his face every time I suggest we buy something.

Pineapples.

Gingerbread Rental Cars.

Ficus trees.
Jeff's list: 
Driving. The speed limit never goes above 50 mph.
The boat ride.
The helicopter ride.
Snorkeling.
Zip lines.
The Alaka'i Swamp.
Hawaiian shirts.

Things I didn't like:

Mosquitoes. But you already knew that.

Pooping geckos.

Mosquitoes.

Stall owners at the markets who would tell you anything to get you to buy their wares. I'm pretty sure they were all liars.

Angry men with pit bulls.

Roosters crowing in the middle of the night.

Tour guides who tell you a bunch of baloney. 

Gratuities.

Shave ice.
Jeff's list:

Wasps.
Outside showers.

And that, I think, is that.
Hope you had fun along with us.
Next stop: Gettysburg and the little darlings in North Carolina.