Week 2 continued
So that evening I get back to the hostel and I meet Marc. Marc was a 6'1" 250lb Swiss dude that was pure muscle. Marc was a mechanical technician, and part time bouncer at a club. For fun, he was a professional swiss wrestler, and for his job, he was in the UFC. I never understood his logic. He didn't like ultimate fighting, but he thought it was best to keep his skills sharp for when he got into fights at work. I had a hard time believing anybody was gonna give him trouble. Well, Marc and I clicked right away. I would always make fun of his size, and when he'd eat a pound of steak, I'd smirk and ask him if he enjoyed his snack. It was funny because this guy that could kill me in a split second, would just laugh, and shyly reply "Shut ahp" in his strong german accent. He had only spent 3 months learning the language, and I often had to define things or rephrase things.
So for the weekend I chilled at the hostel because I couldn't get a camping permit until Monday. Went to the beach and relaxed. With only a couple notable events. One night Marc, Nikki, Carolyn, and I make it out for some drinks, and happen across a bar with karaoke night. (There were only 2 bars in town. Kauai is country.) Every time I leave Karaoke, I swear to myself that I will never do it again. I make the most awful racket known to man, but somehow I convince myself that I actually had fun. Anyways, Nikki and I dueted 4 different songs, and one of the songs, we wrote down the wrong number so neither one of us had ever even heard the song. Somehow, Nikki did quite well. I, on the other hand, was actually told to stop singing. Pretty embarrassing, but I didn't stop.
Sunday evening, Maikiki, the general manager of the hostel, put on a cooking show. Maikiki was a 40 year old hippy/recovering alcoholic. His goal was to turn the hostel into a place where artists/musicians come to travel, but he had a really weird way of going about. Whenever he would check people into the hostel, he would be a complete stiff to them, and tell them they could go to the other hostel if they want. Then, the rest of their stay, he's the nicest guy, willing to help out with any problem. Nikki worked for him for a month, and now she hates his guts. Anyways one of the guys staying/working at the hostel was a very talented chef. So Maikiki decides they should start a live streaming internet cooking show. He envisioned relatives of the travelers tuning in, but at this point, it was just Maikiki recording the videos and watching them himself. It was a real trip. They invited a group of four travelers to be guests on the show, and the guy actually had all the different cooking steps prepared just like in a real cooking show. And Maikiki was real detail-oriented. He would position people and their plates in just the right spot for his shot. He encouraged people to talk and ask questions. Everybody there just wanted to crack up laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing.
So that Monday I get a camping permit, bus out to the west side of the island, but I still have a 20 mile walk ahead of me. I wanted to do the Honopu ridge hike, and get a view of the beach from the Kalalau valley. I also wanted to check out the forboding Alakai swam and determine how realistic it would be to make it to Wai'ale'ale, the worlds wettest spot. I've been before on the boardwalk, and I know it's not realistic, but I wanted to at least experience walking in the mud before giving up. Well, anyways, I stick my thumb up with 20 miles to go, and after an hour, I get no help. So I'm sitting there, hips still soar, cuts and scratches on my feet, and I decide to just give up. It would have been a great 5 days, but my body just didn't want anymore of it.
So I bus back to the main city, and I catch the movie, Pirates of the Carribean II. I decide not to go back to the hostel, and stay at a campsite that's less than a mile from the airport. I figured I could make an earlier flight. I've got a 2-3 mile walk from the theatre to the airport which I originally thought wouldn't be a problem. But I was BEAT, and it was night, and I was on a main road. I had to jump across this little ditch every time a car passed by. It sucked. I finally get to the airport, and I have to keep walking a mile to make it to the camp site. Well it starts raining, and I find the first secluded place I can find, and pitch my tent. I wish I would have just passed out, but all the aches, pains and scratches kept me up for a good hour.
So that evening I get back to the hostel and I meet Marc. Marc was a 6'1" 250lb Swiss dude that was pure muscle. Marc was a mechanical technician, and part time bouncer at a club. For fun, he was a professional swiss wrestler, and for his job, he was in the UFC. I never understood his logic. He didn't like ultimate fighting, but he thought it was best to keep his skills sharp for when he got into fights at work. I had a hard time believing anybody was gonna give him trouble. Well, Marc and I clicked right away. I would always make fun of his size, and when he'd eat a pound of steak, I'd smirk and ask him if he enjoyed his snack. It was funny because this guy that could kill me in a split second, would just laugh, and shyly reply "Shut ahp" in his strong german accent. He had only spent 3 months learning the language, and I often had to define things or rephrase things.
So for the weekend I chilled at the hostel because I couldn't get a camping permit until Monday. Went to the beach and relaxed. With only a couple notable events. One night Marc, Nikki, Carolyn, and I make it out for some drinks, and happen across a bar with karaoke night. (There were only 2 bars in town. Kauai is country.) Every time I leave Karaoke, I swear to myself that I will never do it again. I make the most awful racket known to man, but somehow I convince myself that I actually had fun. Anyways, Nikki and I dueted 4 different songs, and one of the songs, we wrote down the wrong number so neither one of us had ever even heard the song. Somehow, Nikki did quite well. I, on the other hand, was actually told to stop singing. Pretty embarrassing, but I didn't stop.
Sunday evening, Maikiki, the general manager of the hostel, put on a cooking show. Maikiki was a 40 year old hippy/recovering alcoholic. His goal was to turn the hostel into a place where artists/musicians come to travel, but he had a really weird way of going about. Whenever he would check people into the hostel, he would be a complete stiff to them, and tell them they could go to the other hostel if they want. Then, the rest of their stay, he's the nicest guy, willing to help out with any problem. Nikki worked for him for a month, and now she hates his guts. Anyways one of the guys staying/working at the hostel was a very talented chef. So Maikiki decides they should start a live streaming internet cooking show. He envisioned relatives of the travelers tuning in, but at this point, it was just Maikiki recording the videos and watching them himself. It was a real trip. They invited a group of four travelers to be guests on the show, and the guy actually had all the different cooking steps prepared just like in a real cooking show. And Maikiki was real detail-oriented. He would position people and their plates in just the right spot for his shot. He encouraged people to talk and ask questions. Everybody there just wanted to crack up laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing.
So that Monday I get a camping permit, bus out to the west side of the island, but I still have a 20 mile walk ahead of me. I wanted to do the Honopu ridge hike, and get a view of the beach from the Kalalau valley. I also wanted to check out the forboding Alakai swam and determine how realistic it would be to make it to Wai'ale'ale, the worlds wettest spot. I've been before on the boardwalk, and I know it's not realistic, but I wanted to at least experience walking in the mud before giving up. Well, anyways, I stick my thumb up with 20 miles to go, and after an hour, I get no help. So I'm sitting there, hips still soar, cuts and scratches on my feet, and I decide to just give up. It would have been a great 5 days, but my body just didn't want anymore of it.
So I bus back to the main city, and I catch the movie, Pirates of the Carribean II. I decide not to go back to the hostel, and stay at a campsite that's less than a mile from the airport. I figured I could make an earlier flight. I've got a 2-3 mile walk from the theatre to the airport which I originally thought wouldn't be a problem. But I was BEAT, and it was night, and I was on a main road. I had to jump across this little ditch every time a car passed by. It sucked. I finally get to the airport, and I have to keep walking a mile to make it to the camp site. Well it starts raining, and I find the first secluded place I can find, and pitch my tent. I wish I would have just passed out, but all the aches, pains and scratches kept me up for a good hour.
posted by robbo at 1:25 AM
1 Comments:
Pirates of the Carribean, huh? Some guy told me it wasn't very good and he'd rather have Captain Hook swab his poop-deck than see it again.
Post a Comment
<< Home