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When in Hawai’i, it is only natural to hang out on the beach.  Right?   Now, I am naturally albinoand have strict instructions from my dermatologist to never, ever, ever, EVER get sunburned.  In fact–says he–it would be better if I didn’t even get the teensiest bit of a tan line, what with my Melanoma genes and previous cancer scares and all.  When venturing to a tropical island, this makes life a wee bit trickier.  I had to be very careful about my skin, slathering on sunscreen to walk down the street, bathing in it before heading to the beach.  I even bought one of those surf-shirt do-thingies to prevent tan lines on my back.  These kind of precautions preclude the fabulous laying out on the beach look.  Yeah, I was the nerd hanging out under an umbrella reading Steinbeck with all my limbs covered by various pieces of clothing and towels.  Sometimes I really think I should move to Ireland or Nova Scotia or someplace where tanning is generally frowned upon.  (Is tanning frowned on in Nova Scotia or Ireland?  I don’t know, please help.)

At any rate, being on an island and all, beaches were to be enjoyed.  So I kept applying sunscreen and kept my camera handy.

This is the snorkeling “beach” in Puako (POO-uh-ko), just a short walk from our condo.  There were turtles in the shallow tide pools every single time I wandered down there, not to mention crabs, fishies, anemones (and scary sea urchins, hello stingers!), and one time there was even a seal.  Hello, Nature!  My only problem with this beach was the fact that one of those harmless-looking rocks sliced my toe open, and it continued to throb for a solid week.  (Soaking it in salt water probably didn’t help.)

I don’t know what happened here.  These people were hanging out on Hapuna Beach (Huh-POO-na)–the one gorgeous powder sand beach we visited–and all of a sudden I found this Handsome character buried from toe to chin in sand.  Honestly, I don’t know what happened.  (Please ignore the heidikins pictured above who is covered in suspicious sand.  And forgive the funky neck, by the time this pic had been taken he had sand in unimaginable crevices and had his head propped up for ages.)

Lava beach.  More lava.  Not so much a “lounge and relax” type of beach, more of a come, see, point-and-shoot, enjoy, go home.  But it does make for a beautiful sunset. 

There are only a few black sand beaches in the world, and I doubt any are more difficult to get to than this one.  Approximately a mile-long switch-back road with a twenty-five percent grade (TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT!), potholes and rusty cars that had slipped off the road.  Crazy, I tell you.  But the beach?  The beach was one of the most gorgeous things I have ever seen.  White surf, black sand, gorgeous blue sky.

Waipio Valley (WHY-pee-oh) is a narrow slice of a valley with incredibly steep sides and no amenities.  Meaning, the taro root farmers don’t have electricity, or running water.  The only people who live there are bonafide hippies and wander-hearts, but even I–with my high maintenance closet and fear of Big Bugs–would consider leaving civilization, at least temporarily, to have this beach as part of my backyard. 

When I think about the most beautiful places I have been, the most incredible views I have seen, this will always be among my favorites.  And for the record, I am consistently amazed at how well my little 3.5 mega-pixel point-and-shoot Canon camera did on this trip.  When I grow up, and I certainly hope it is sometime soon, I will have a real-life SLR camera.  Swoon!