Part Two

There are few things that equal the joy of waking up in Maui.

Since the time change works in our favor, I was opening my eyes to the gray predawn light around 5am, fully rested and ready to start my day. I love mornings - adore mornings - so this is a special kind of treat for me and I savor it during our Hawaiian vacations in particular. And the best kind of mornings, without a doubt, are the kind that greet you with a whole day of nothing stretching out in front of you. Which is exactly what we had our first morning in Maui.

Having determined on our honeymoon that the breakfast buffet at the hotel is not only substandard but also outrageously expensive, we showed foresight on this trip by stocking up on enough Zone bars to get us through the duration of breakfasts. After spending almost an hour laying on the bed and watching the ocean wake up, we roused ourselves enough to make in-room coffee. Carrying that and our Zone bars out to the beach, we made our footprints in the sand from the Westin up to Blackrock and back. The walk woke us up enough to spark some residual "we should be doing something" energy left over from work-mode, so when we got back to the hotel, we threw on our workout gear and hit the gym for 40 minutes. Prior to starting the vacation, we had visions of exercising together and eating light meals of perfectly grilled fish, coming back lean and refreshed. While the reality had some degree of variation from this theme (macadamia nut ice cream, thou art the devil), the idea buoyed us through a decent workout that first morning.

Of course, a long walk and a three mile treadmill run on only a Zone bar and mediocre coffee would make even Calista Flockhart hungry. We were ravenous.

While David showered, I called down to the pool deck to get a price quote on the "reserved" cabanas that edged the pool deck facing the ocean. Another "we should have" left over from our honeymoon experience. They were reasonably priced and available, so I snagged us one for the day. Incidentally, I love charging things to the room. I wish real life was more like that, and I could just say "put it on my tab" everywhere I went. But I digress. Having both showered and lathered in the requisite sunscreen bath required for tropical sun exposure, we trekked down to claim our cabana. By this time ravenous had turned to light headed and woozy, so David, unable to find a cabana boy or girl lingering about, ventured out to the pool bar to see what he could find.

Keep in mind we had started our morning at 5am, so it was only just barely approaching 10:30am at this point. Have I said already how much I love the time change in our favor? Except at this particular moment, when my wonderful, resourceful husband came back with news that the kitchen wouldn't open for another hour or so. Ack. He didn't, however, come empty-handed. Clutched in each hand was a brimming cold cup of beer, complete with lime wedge.

Not exactly power food. Fuel for a lean body. Starting out as you mean to go on and all that. But it was the only thing the bar had readily available. And we drank it with all the hunger we felt.

It was refreshing beyond belief. And it eased the slow slide into a day of blissful relaxation. We did eventually get a turkey sandwich, and once the kitchen was open the cabana people were incredibly attentive. We even got "complimentary" water and pineapple wedges delievered to us at regular intervals throughout the day. Complimentary in that they were included in the price of our cabana, but again - worth it. We read. We napped. We rolled the shade back to get sun. We pulled the shade closed to cool off.

The only fly in the ointment that day came from the adjacent cabana. The "cabanas" consisted of two lounge chairs linked together with a rolling shade. Obviously meant for two people. Unfortunately, a family of five decided to rent the one to our left. The grandparents, the parents, and a toddler who couldn't have been more than a year old.

I know my vacation tales make it sound as though I hate children, or I have no tolerance for the noises and general rucus they make. That's not true at all. I adore children and find them perpetually cute. It's the parents I hate. Parents who have no... manners for lack of a better word. As is usually the case, in this instance the child was not at fault. The poor kid was hot -- it was very hot and sunny in the middle of the day -- and clearly tired. I don't know where the mother had gone off to, but the father was unfit in my mind. While the child screamed and cried, he ordered Mai Tais and kept talking over her, as though she didn't exist. Or he'd say (and he had one of those booming can-be-heard-for-miles voices) "ooohh... you're so tired! Yes, you're so tired! -- hey order me another Mai Tai, will you?" and just let her keep screaming. He set her down and she ran for the concrete and was barefoot, so of course she burned the crap out of her little feet and screamed all the more. He kept sitting on his stupid towel, drinking his stupid mai tai, saying "don't go on that - you'll burn yourself! See! I told you you'd burn yourself!" and go get her, set her down again, and start in again "don't walk on that! I told you you'd burn yourself!" and the kid would immediately run for the concrete again and burn her feet again.

I wanted to shake him. Tell him Dude. Forget Mai Tais. Take her upstairs in the cool air conditioning, rinse her face with cold water, turn on something quiet on tv, and let her lay down! Don't try to reason with her. Don't drink yourself stupider than you already are. If you decide to bring your toddler on vacation to Maui, expect that you're going to sacrifice a mai tai or two for the sake of being a good parent! It's like parenting 101. Or the pre-requisite for that.

When the mother finally came back, she was no better. They stayed all afternoon and never took the kid out of the sun. She eventually passed out from exhaustion. Or sun poisioning. Those parents should be shot.

It doesn't sound like it from my little tirade here, but I honestly tried to just tune it out. Other than a few particular incidents like the burned feet, I mostly submerged myself in a cheesy romance novel and chatted about inconsequential things with David.

Maximum sun capacity hit at about 4pm, when we returned to our room to open a bottle of champagne we'd cleverly throught to put on ice earlier in the day. Over our makeshift happy hour - nothing like champagne from a water glass - we slowly dressed for dinner and watched Food Network.

Dinner was, of course, destined to be Tropica. Though we'd passed through the night before, we hadn't gotten to really eat there yet. I have already said it and will most likely say it again, but dude. The food is ridiculous good. That first night we had more champagne and ordered just about every appetizer on the menu instead of full dinners, choosing to dine "tapas style." As we split dessert over after-dinner drinks, I fell in love with Maui all over again, ice cream style.

And so concluded our second night of bliss. The sun and the champagne and the good food hit us all at once, rendering us incapable of anything but bed. But a blessedly peaceful sleep it was.