Day 5: Maakapu’u Lookout (Near-death experience #2 of 2) & Masaladas

After my harrowing brush with death, the previous day, I was ready for an easy day; a nice, calm goodbye to Honolulu. The plan was as follows: Wake up nice and early to catch the bus to Maakapu’u Lookout and do the easy hour hike to the lighthouse. After that, explore Chinatown, even if only just to see the old Sailor Jerry tattoo shop, which apparently had just re-opened, bus it back to the hostel, and get a shuttle with all of my bags to the airport. No death-defying feats today. This was a flip flops kinda day.

Destination: Up

Then something happened two thirds of the way up the hike. Sound familiar?

I saw what could potentially be a hike down towards the water. More importantly, I saw a group of four people swimming in a small pool among the sharp rocks that line the shore. The waves were literally crashing on the rocks right behind them! I had to get down there! Flip flops be damned!

I figured since I could only see four of them, they were probably just a bunch of crazies who had braved this frightening hike down. So much for a nice, calm goodbye.

I continued on the hike, telling myself that if I still felt a pull to go down there on my way back down the trail, I’d give it a go.

When I got to the top, as usual, the view was spectacular. I took a photo for a lovely couple who were from the area, and we chatted for a bit. Then I found myself a nice little spot with a view to sit and write a postcard to a special someone.

Once that was done, I started to make my way back down the trail.

Soon enough, I came to the path that might not be a path, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off of those people down there. It just looked like too insatiable of an experience to pass up, swimming with the sound of the ocean waves right there.

I started to make my way down.

This “path” was down a rocky cliff; it was no dirt trail. I was also the only one walking this path. I didn’t care, though; I was going to do this. It totally looked doable, too; it looked like there were flat rock surfaces going all the way down. Besides, if those four could do it, why the hell couldn’t I? I mean, aside from my poor balance and the fact that I was wearing flip flops.

For the first ten minutes or so, I felt pretty confident. I was taking my time, and calculating every step.  Then things got shakier and shakier. The flat surfaces became more and more rare. I found myself having to do a crabwalk type thing from time to time because there were too many slippery rocks that could easily roll me right off the cliff.

I looked to be about two thirds of the way down, when things started to feel very real. Looking up, I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to do this climb in reverse; especially with flip flops. I could very well be stuck there. I might be on the news as the jackass tourist who needed a helicopter lift to pick him up and rescue him. And I would miss my flight!

And looking down, it was here that my fear of unsecure heights decided to kick in with full force. I was paralyzed; these cliffs jutting out at me seemed to almost be pushing me, forcing me to lean forwards, giving me a bit of vertigo.

I was literally between a rock and a hard place.

I looked down, and saw something that convinced me to keep going: a dog. There was a freakin’ golden retriever down there! How was that possible?! If that dog could do it, then so could I! (Granted, the dog probably had better footing than I did. But still, it gave me hope.

I also saw footprints, which told me I wasn’t the only idiot to try this, as well as a dirty blanket and pillow tucked into a little cavern. This was somebody’s home.

I pushed on. I grabbed on to a rock with my right hand, stepped down to the lower rock with my right foot in the lead, and immediately turned on my heel, grabbing on to the rock with both hands now.

From here, the path looked easier.

Within five minutes, I made it to the pool. I waved hello to the group of four girls who were down there, and was shocked and disappointed by their lack of response. Shit, I had just risked my life to get down there, and they didn’t give a shit!

Then I saw the couple I'd taken a picture of back at the top of the hike. How the hell did they beat me here?!

That’s when I turned around and saw this.

There was a fucking path! THERE WAS A FUCKING PATH! A FUCKNIG PATH! It zigzagged its way along the rock cliff. That was the biggest face palm moment of my life.

Then I turned to the left and saw this. This is what I had just climbed. In flip flops. I burst out laughing harder than I ever had in my life. I was hysterical.

Not a path.

I turned around again to look back at the couple in the pool, and the guy said, “I thought I saw some crazy guy making his way down! Damn, Cliffhanger!”

I am both the dumbest and the luckiest person in the world.

I jumped into the water in my regular shorts and found myself once again swimming with the fishes. Let me tell you, after everything I’d just put myself through, that was, hands down, the most refreshing water Id ever swam in. I don’t know how else to describe it other than refreshing.

Totally worth it.

After regaining my sanity, I started to make my way up the cliff. The proper path proved to be a bit of a challenge as well, though, because my wet feet made the flip flops extremely slippery. I took my sweet ass time.

On my way up, I had another face palm moment.

There were arrows.

The entire time, there were arrows. I had started on the right path, but I’d taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

I got back to the hostel, cleaned myself up, and headed right back out. There was one last thing I needed to do before I bid Hawaii godbye.

Tankia had told me that if there was one Hawaiian delicacy I needed to try, it was a malasada from the famous Leonard’s Bakery. I walked to the nearest bakery and picked up half a dozen original and half a dozen cinnamon malasadas. For those reading this from the comforts of Toronto, imagine Tiny Tom’s donuts from the Ex, but ten times bigger. They tasted exactly like Tiny Tom’s donuts. Fried dough caked in sugar or cinnamon…how could you go wrong?

I grabbed my box of malasadas and headed back to the hostel to share them with the staff as a thank you gift for all of their help.

I arrived at the airport well in advance of my flight, but grateful to be leaving Paradise alive.