Favorite Place: Kaua'i, Hawai'i
- LoAroundTheGlobo
- Jul 1, 2019
- 8 min read
Updated: May 3
December 2013 & Summer 2014
December 2013: I loved it so much the first time that I went back six months later. I first visited the most northern island of Hawai'i with my family over Christmas break, but longed for more of its beauty and adventure, so I started coordinating (almost immediately) a summertime trip with my friend, Morgaine.
My family and I stayed in a gorgeous resort in Puhi, near Lihue and we rented a car to be able to explore the island, which is pretty manageable to do in a week. We went to this gorgeous area near Waimea River, where we did a cool boat cruise and walked up towards this beautiful waterfall that opened up into a grotto. Within this tropical oasis, we spotted wildlife and admired flowers and felt grateful for the cooling mist among the wintertime heat (which is not an oxymoron when referring to Hawai'i).
We soon learned that there's plenty of detours worth making if you just drive along the island's perimeter road. We popped into random caves, pulled off towards breathtakingly beautiful beaches, and hiked Waimea Canyon (accurately dubbed the "Mini Grand Canyon" as its expansive red-rock layers seem to reach into eternity). We also made our way over toward Princeville, where a beach reaches for as far as the eye can see, and we (obviously) made a pit stop for ice cream at a cool local shack on our way out. As we drove along, we rode windows down just feeling the warm, tropical breeze, and feasted our eyes on the amazing sights at every turn. This island is truly the most beautiful and serene place that I've ever experienced.
On Christmas Eve, we found ourselves on a beach, and appreciated a different meaning to "white Christmas," one filled with white sand, crystal clear water, and a bathing-suit-clad Santa in a red canoe. We were stitching alongside the other tourists as Santa made his grand entrance into our little cove, and we swore it was one of the most magical Christmases ever. He started handing out candy and belting out Ho Ho Hos during this stroll along the beach.
One of the most incredible views I've ever seen in my life, however, was at Kalalau Lookout on the Na'Pali Coast, where the luscious green cliffs effortlessly drop into the bright blue vastness of the Pacific. We were literally in the clouds and the clouds' mist illuminated rainbows all around us. I remember standing there for a moment with my family, and we were all just silent (which, if you know us, is shocking). There were no words. There were no thoughts, only serenity. It felt like we were standing at Heaven's gates right there. Like some higher power had beautifully painted this picturesque coastline.
And as if that couldn't get better, on Christmas morning, my grandma, brother, and I went on a helicopter ride around the Na'Pali Coast and my jaw stayed dropped while we experienced this view from a different, somehow even more impressive, perspective. I mean, it's truly hard to capture just how gorgeous and humbling the views were - and to realize we're just small pawns floating on this planet and that Mother Nature is capable of so much more. She has a way of humbling you to your core when boasting views like these.
Throughout Christmas dinner, I chatted with our young, friendly waiter and he ended up taking me on the coolest adventure the following day. He and I picked up ceviche and headed out towards "Blue Hole," an oasis only accessible through a long, dark tunnel via inter-tube. We loaded up and braved what felt like an amusement-park ride until we emerged into this small, serene valley, tucked neatly between two mountains. We sat there at this watering hole, enjoying our snacks and soaking up the sunshine for a few hours until it was time to head back.
One of the nights, my family and I went to a show that involved traditional Hawaiian cuisine and dancing. We enjoyed delicious seafood and were amazed by the graceful, yet powerful Hula dancers. On our final night, the island pleasantly surprised us yet again, and we set out for Polihali Beach, the Western-most point of the United States, and a place known for its captivating sunsets. The waves were intimidating that night, but my brother braved them as they crashed relentlessly against the shore. The sun was sinking and the sky lit up every color of a Crayola box.
Yet again, we fell silent. Just reveling in the beauty we were witnessing and feeling every inch of our souls come alive from the sights, the sounds, the sensations. We piled back into our rental car though and braved the bumpy dirty road from Polihali back to the main highway, wincing at every bottom-out. So when it was time to return home, you can understand how this place ignited such a fire within me that I was eager to return so soon after.
Summer 2014: Almost immediately after raving about this place to my friend, we got to planning and budgeting. Mo and I planned on visiting for two weeks in July, and staying at an Airbnb with a super cool guy who lived near Kapa'a. We were too broke to rent a car, but it ended up all working out as we borrowed a car from our host who routinely rented out "island cars" to his guests.
When we first arrived to the island, Evan (our host) was there to pick us up and took us by this rocky beach area where we were able to jump and flip off of a 15ft-high platform. We caught up on sleep that first night before meeting up with the "friends" (the waiter and his crew) I'd made during my first trip just six months prior; they took us out to the coolest little waterfall area in the middle of the jungle where we climbed the rocks and jumped and flipped and swam around as the water dumped into a narrow, but powerful riverbed area.
The next couple of days were either spent beaching or exploring for beaches. We drove around, windows down, blasting music and just pulling over whenever we sensed a worthy turn-off. Mo and I ended up finding some of the most beautiful and peaceful beaches I've ever been to, and we spent most of our days frolicking in the clear blue waters and relaxing on the white sandy shores. I was driving us to Secrets Beach one of the days and it lived up to its name. It was extremely difficult to find and impossible to know whether we were heading the right direction, but we bottomed out so hard once that I pulled over because we were cracking up so hard about how lost and pitiful we were.
Another day we headed to Shipwreck's Beach, known for its rocky cliffsides and thus cliff jumping. She and I hiked up from the safe beachy area to scope out the scene. As we stood on that 50ft cliff, let me tell you, it felt like 500ft, and the breeze blew just strongly enough to make you feel unsteady. But, she and I, one at a time, counted 1-2-3 and made that leap into the tumultuous waters below as the small crowd at the top could be heard cheering us on. The adrenaline rushed through our veins like poison as we navigated the rocky shore to swim back towards the safe and warm sand, about 200 yards away from where you enter the water.
The next day, we made the trek in one of our "island cars" (against Evan's advice) up toward Waimea Canyon, that breathtakingly expansive canyon dubbed the "Little Grand Canyon." When we finally summited the mountain, we were the only two people in sight as the sun was beginning to fade and the stars were even beginning to emerge.
We hiked around in the quiet for some time, before returning to our car and becoming immediately alarmed. There was shiny, neon substance leaking from our not-so-trusty companion. With nothing to do but try to get down the mountain, we loaded into the car, coasted slowly, and said several prayers; we did break down several times, having to wave over strangers to help us. One lady said there was a problem with our radiator, but she pronounced it like 'rad-iator,' not 'ray-diator,' which, of course, had us giggling at the most inopportune time. Another man poured water in there for us, saying we were low on coolant. Let's just say it was a miracle we made it home safely that night.
Another day we spent hiking to and into Wailua Falls, down the vertical, muddy path. And yet another one exploring Opaeka'a Falls. Evan's friend was able to hook us up with discounted passes to go zip-lining one day so we graciously took him up on that offer, and went on that adventure through the jungle, which included zip-lining into a secret pond tucked in the valley of Sleeping Mountain. The next morning, we'd stayed up all night with friends of friends to watch the sunrise on the east side of the island, and sat silently with each other plus some almost-perfect strangers as sunlight cloaked everything in sight.
Much to Evan's chagrin (as our self-appointed big brother during our time staying at his place), he allowed us to go on a fishing adventure with him and two of his other guests the following day, where apparently quietness and stealth are key, two qualities Mo and I don't possess much of, at least at this point in our early adulthood. But it was one of the coolest, toughest days as we descended into this ravine, trekking along the riverbed for what felt like miles until we reached a small, but gorgeous waterfall dumping into a pond where the fish (apparently) swarmed.
On one of our final days, a group of us headed out towards Polihali Beach, as I'd spoken so highly of it to Mo just months prior. We bumped along that long, winding road until we reached the edge of what felt like the world. Our friends and us relaxed on a blanket, enjoying the sunset that was, once again, electrifying the ocean and jungles surrounding us.
We were so sad to leave our little home when that final day came. We had hung out on the roof many 'o mornings with Evan and friends, listening to the avocados BANG on the metal roof of the shed as they fell from the tree at the back of the property. We had gotten attached to the puppies that he kept in the backyard. We'd grown accustomed to the comfy bed that let us sleep in until mid-morning. We'd met other guests, other travelers, with fascinating stories and senses of adventure that matched our own. I'm sure Evan was ready for the rowdy girls to move along, but he confirmed that we felt like sisters by the time we were leaving. Mo and I left with our hearts full, wallets empty, souls invigorated, and stories/memories overflowing from our lips.
I've loved every place I've ever been, for many different reasons, but there are few places as simply striking as this island. It's easily my favorite place in the whole world, and didn't disappoint me either time I got to take in its gorgeous views and adventures just waiting to be discovered.
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To Do or Not to Do?
If it wasn't already obvious enough: YES. You'd be hard-pressed to find an island or a place more beautiful than this. Just be mindful as a traveler... take nothing, leave no trace, defer to the locals and native inhabitants about when and whether you should travel there, what to do when you're there, and how to protect this stunning place through considerate tourism and conscientious consumption.
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