The ship did its best to throw us off last
night, quite unnecessarily, as this morning our cruise was over. Visually, it
was more of a whimper than a roar, if you see what I mean, as we were moored at
a pier in a small container port which, disconcertingly, entirely lacked the
name Maersk emblazoned anywhere. Instead, it was Matson on nearly every
container. It was like an alternate reality.
The crew made up for the uninspiring
surroundings by a cheerful line-up on the pier, and we each collected 16 hugs
or handshakes as we worked our way along to the bus waiting to take us to the
airport. There were some tears – not mine, obviously – and promises to meet
again, and invitations to visit, neither of which are likely to happen. I’ve
done this before. I know how it works. But it was a feel-good moment, the last
of many we'd had on the Safari Explorer, and we were all genuinely happy that we had
done the cruise. Thank you, UnCruise Adventures!
On, on. The bus took us on a good road
across flat volcanic flow country, the rocks on each side either shattered or
still wrinkled as if they had only just cooled (though that eruption took place
in 1801). Tawny grasses were colonising it in parts, gold against the black,
and white waves were breaking at the edge of the sea which was turquoise and
deep blue. The two biggest volcanoes, Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, had their heads in the
clouds. Cyclists had their heads down against the wind, and we passed an
unexpected Beware Donkeys road sign.
At the airport we all finally parted
company, and we claimed our indulgent hire car, a Ford Mustang convertible –
white, not red, we broke the mould – to drive back up the road again to our hotel,
the Fairmont Orchid. We passed several resorts on the way, all with neat basalt
walls, trimmed bougainvillea hedges, coconut palms and a spread of attractive
buildings, and the Fairmont is one of the best. It’s open, airy, beautifully
landscaped around swimming pools and a big pond with waterfalls and huge
goldfish; it’s attractively decorated for Christmas, the staff are solicitous
without being obsequious, and our room is large and comfortable with a view
over the manicured golf course and the sea.
We set out again to explore, driving south
past the town and suburbs of Kona and along a narrow winding side-road where
the person driving (ahem, not me) got yelled at by a couple of locals to “Slow
the f--- down!” Our top was down, of course, so we felt the full force of their
anger – they keep that quiet about convertibles, that you’re literally open to
pedestrian abuse.
At the Paleaku Peace Botanical Gardens, I breathed deeply of said peace, admired the flowers, learnt about some plants (macadamias are native to
Australia, apparently – who knew?), watched some pretty finches bathing in a
rocky fountain, saw a mongoose, skipped the spiritual stuff, and cracked
myself, with satisfying ease, a blissfully moist and creamy macadamia in the
gift shop.
Next stop was the Painted Church, a cute
little wooden thing on a hillside overlooking its tropically-planted graveyard.
Inside, its original builder-priest had turned his hand to decoration, and
painted it from ceiling to floor – from the Stations of the Cross to coconut
palms and blue skies. Not what you’d call skilful, but certainly pretty, and
unusual. I most enjoyed, though, the two friendly cats sprawled outside, who
generously accepted my attentions. The church is still in use, and a few
congregation members were gathering for a service, from an ancient man creeping
up the path with a walking stick to a bulky bandanna-ed biker who arrived on
some roaring beast.
Then we drove back – there was a moment of excitement when one of us (not me) managed to switch off the ignition en route while trying to adjust the aircon – and arrived without further incident to
watch yet another spectacular sunset silhouetting coconut palms across the bay.
Being both cheap and members of the Gold class, we were able to eat what are
officially called hors d’oeuvres in the lounge but are really a free option to
going to one of the restaurants (though we probably missed something special,
not going to Brown’s down in the garden).
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