On Monday we were off on another adventure, deciding to chance our fate at the famous-for-being-crowded Hanauma Bay for snorkeling. Well, I'm so glad we did! We headed back towards the east and just outside of Diamond Head we pulled off into a parking lot for the Bay that we had to pay for, the first part of the experience that felt strangely like visiting a theme park. We got out of the car, walked to the top of the parking lot, and gazed down at the most beautiful place I've ever seen in real life: a light-blue bay shaped like a perfect horseshoe, so clear that you can see every bit of coral reef from a quarter mile away. Because the bay is so popular with visitors and snorkelers, the parks commission has it strictly regulated. You pay an admission fee, and then you wait to watch a 9-minute video on the features (but mostly rules and regulations) of the bay. There's even a catchy little song to remind you not to touch anything or try to feed the fish. It was incredibly hot waiting to enter the theater, and I was getting grumpy that everything cost money and was taking so long, but I'm so glad we stayed. At the bottom of the very steep hill (where we were wedged in with many other hopefuls, their kids and strollers) there was more waiting in line for snorkel equipment, but here our path diverged from the masses. We noticed that everyone was funneling directly onto the beach from the path, making that first area incredibly crowded, and the water packed with the people. But when we walked to the end of the beach, there was no one there! We set up our stuff and headed into the water, and from the first dunk I couldn't believe my eyes. Every kind of fish I'd ever seen in a fancy aquarium seemed to be blithely floating inches from my face. David saw an octopus. I spotted a Moorish Idol. We saw multi-colored parrot fish and I saw my first-ever black and white spotted puffer fish. Around every turn in the coral there were new wonders and delights. And David and I both commented that we'd never seen so much healthy, living coral in a tourist site. All in water so calm that we barely felt a ripple the whole time we were out there. Because we were on the unpopular side of the beach, I saw maybe one or two other legs the whole time. It was sheer snorkeling bliss.

I don't know how long we were in the water, but eventually we got cold and made the long swim in to shore (we had gotten out quite far, and on the way back I bashed my legs up quite a bit on the shallow coral.) We dried off in the sun for a while, enjoying the view and the perfect weather. Eventually we felt hungry and walked back up the steep hill (there was a tram, but it charged a dollar a person!) to the car. We changed and got back on the road along the Windward Coast. Soon, we stopped at the Makapuu Lighthouse Lookout because it was just so beautiful, and we hopped around on the rocks, startled crabs and darting black fishies, and took some photos. The weather was starting to darken and we realized that we'd timed our snorkeling adventure perfectly. It was starting to sprinkle as we headed in to Kailua. This time, the Visitor Center was open, and a delicate white-haired man very graciously showed us where everything could be found. Every time I'd ask him a question, he'd raise a finger and say "Ah, that's another map," and another photo-copy of a bare-bones, hand-written directional system would appear. They looked like treasure maps, and that's how we treated them! The first thing we were able to find was the café we searched for the day before, called Good to Go! Turned out to be about two blocks away. It was raining hard as we pulled up in front and made a dash for the door. The place was tiny, and we spent the last of our cash (about 9 dollars) on a turkey sandwich, rosemary potatoes, and a corn chowder. The hot soup tasted so good as the rain lashed the window outside. (When we returned to Waikiki, we discovered that it hadn't even sprinkled there!)

At this point, a beach walk seemed out of the question, so we found a bank and waited in line for a teller named "Precious" (it said so on her placard) to give us a cash advance on our credit card. Newly fortified, we attempted to drive to a Byodo-tan Temple (our map gentleman had recommended it) abit further north, but we must have missed it in the rain, which showed no sign of letting up. We kept going through a kind of icky strip-mall area until the road sank back into the trees again, with the ocean to our right. At this point the island seemed really rural. We saw a lot of wooden houses up on stilts (they were really close to the water) and a lot of foliage. The occasional beaches were misty and deserted. We finally pulled off at Kualoa Beach Park, where we had a capital view of Mokoli'i, the island that everyone calls "Chinaman's Hat" because it's a perfect little triangle out in the water. Apparently, at low tide you can wade there! That wasn't possible on this day, and it was pretty cold (we huddled under Imperial Resort pink beach towels) but the beach was lovely and there were pretty birds everywhere-Mokoli'i is a bird sanctuary.

At this point, we turned around and headed back the other way. Originally, I had wanted to hug the coastline all the way up the east coast to the North Shore again, but considering how bad the weather was, we didn't think we'd see much. On the way back to the inter-island Likelike Highway, we stopped in at a Macadamia Farm, which was nestled in the trees and had some fabulous coffee and lots of free samples of nuts with different toppings like cinnamon and chocolate.

Back at the Imperial, we showered off the sand and salt and got ready for our big fancy dinner at Alan Wong's, a restaurant our friends Rachel and Alan had recommended. Alan Wong is part of the "slow food Hawaii" movement that uses local ingredients and really fresh produce in their specialties. We met up with Joan and John and got quite lost trying to the find the restaurant. It's in old Honolulu, in a non-descript office building, so it was hard to spot. Then I was traumatized by the world's largest roach in the elevator, but the minute we reached the packed restaurant (on a Monday night!) I knew we were in for a great experience. Alan Wong's is the kind of fine dining where the service is almost stealthy; just as you're wishing for more bread or a refill on your tea, you suddenly notice that it's already there. Everyone was gracious and I was happy from my first sip of a fresh pineapple martini. Joan and John both ordered the Whole Tomato Salad, which was glorious in its simplicity, a whole tomato (saucily topped with two basil leaves) that had already been sectioned and seasoned and re-assembled on a bed of li hing mui (dried plum) dressing and fresh cucumber slices. I had the 7-Vegetable Cake as my salad (yum) and David had the Caesar with Kalua Pig. My entrée was heaven-lamb chops with a Macadamia Nut Crust. So different! And for dessert, stuffed as we were, we shared a beautiful sampler of six fresh fruit sorbets. I also had some Big Island-grown White Mulberry Tea, which was served quite dramatically as six-inch leaves in a tall glass, and tasted incredible without a single drop of honey. We all agreed that it had been a sumptuous meal.