Not much to report for yesterday. I had one goal for the day: to find fresh, tropical fruit to eat. I thought it was a travesty that we had been in Maui for three days and still had not eaten any tropical fruit! I mean, I’d been craving papayas a full week before leaving home.
So that morning, I declared my intention to find “fresh goddamned local frickin’ fruit” to Ray, hoping my strong language would let him know that I was serious.
He blinked at me.
We wandered around a different part of the island, stopping for lunch in Haiku, which clearly warranted me writing a haiku about lunch.
Haiku in Haiku
Lunch: mushroom and fries.
Papaya tree outside grows
Looks healthy and sweet.
Can you tell that I had fruit on the brain?
We drove through Paia, the surfer town where we had originally planned on staying, on recommendation from several former residents. By the time we had booked our lodging, though, all the (decent) rentals in Paia had been snatched up (January is prime surfing season). Driving through the town, however, we realized it was too populated for our taste; give us a remote house on the beach or in the middle of the woods, and we are happy.
We made our way back to West Maui and found a fruit stand on the side of the road. One of the guys at the stand was incredibly helpful and kept giving me samples of all the fruits. He picked out the ripest ones for me. I gave him a big tip.
Mangoes, papayas, guavas, star fruit, oranges, and a pineapple (of course!): my goal had been achieved, and I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into their juicy deliciousness.
We drove around the fancy schmancy part of the island and found where the 1% live. I’m not kidding; the residences and golf courses were so opulent, even the road signs seemed to be looking down their noses at us. We wanted to find a nice view to watch the sunset, but all the houses were blocking the view!