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Nantucket

Apr12

Notes from Nautical Nantucket

(At the waterside overlooking Nantucket Harbor)

Nantucket is one of the prettiest places I have ever seen. An island, 26 miles off the coast of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, it sits amidst the ebb and flow of the swirling Atlantic Ocean. Imagine a place where pristine beaches are carpeted by masses of wild vivid pink rugosa roses…where seagulls and egrets blur the evening sky stained salmon pink and pearly at sundown…where cedar shingled cottages weathered to a uniformly grey patina are draped with shrouds of climbing blood red roses…where multi-hued hydrangea lift their mop heads to the stars along cobbled pavements and peep from beneath white picket fences…where prim ladies in crisp linens and pearls carry woven wicker baskets instead of pocketbooks…where Bay scallops and lobster–freshly caught off saline waters–feature on world-class menus in cozy restaurants that were once whaling mansions…where a historic library appropriately called the Athaneum housed in a splendid Neo-Classical building once hosted the likes of stellar American authors such as Longfellow and Hawthorne and Herman Melville…where hundreds of boats bob in jade-green seas in sheltered coves and hidden bays…where sprucely manicured tall hedges hosting circular, full-moon gates sprinkled with David Austin roses in ice-cream shades of pink and pale yellow welcome visitors down brick-paved garden pathways…where church fairs feature old-fashioned games of skills, rummage sales and vintage jewelry…where upscale design stores stand cheek by jowl with fine arts galleries featuring everything from traditional oil paintings to modernist sculpture…where shuttle buses ferry skimpily clad beachcombers to the water’s edge for another day of fun in the sun…where bicycles equipped with French-style wicker baskets are the preferred mode of conveyance…where salt water taffy and chewy chocolate fudge can be purchased as tasty souvenirs of one’s travels…all of this is Nantucket and more. Llew and I spent five idyllic days on this unique island, delighting in its distinctive ambience and lazying away to our heart’s content.

 

 

 

 

(Standing besides masses of hydrangeas and on the sandy pathway leading to Surfside Beach)

 

 

 

 

(Llew poses outside the Jared-Coffine House–left. Seacraft dot the deep blue waters) 

I had heard so much about Nantucket…and yet had never actually set foot on it. I had once flown over it, though, and can clearly remember sticking my head to the window of our aircraft when the pilot informed us that we were flying just above the islands of Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard. I expected it to be similar to “the Cape” as Cod Cape is known to its many afficionados or like Martha’s Vineyard, its closest neighbor. But is is like nothing I had ever seen. Nantucket is different. A center for seafaring and whaling in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, it developed in the twentieth as an upscale mecca for the well-heeled tourist seeking the aura of Cannes or Nice in a corner of the North Atlantic.

To get to Nantucket, we drove from Southport to Hyannis on Cape Cod where we parked our car and transferred to a ferry (run by Hy-Line Cruises) that dropped us off on the island at a picture-perfect dock dotted with restaurants, souvenir stores and art galleries. Since we visited the island during the long July Fourth weekend, the resort was more crowded than usual. Indeed, summer brings hordes to this sleepy island, its 10,000 strong year-round population swelling to 60,000 before Labor Day draws the curtain down on another season of endless festivities. A shuttle bus took us to Surfside Beach where our accommodation at the Youth Hostel was the perfect vantage point from which to explore the island. Indeed, the hostel is located right on the beach front in an old Victorian rescue cabin complete with gingerbread trim that has been beautifully refurbished (above left). For the next few days, we shared space with a bunch of diverse travelers from around the world, from teenagers to white-haired single globe-trotters who barely spoke English. Not willing to skip a beat, we checked out our impeccably clean, brand-new dormitory style quarters and made our way on the island shuttle bus to “Town” where all social life begins and ends. We then strolled down to Jetties Beach to see the Independence Day fireworks from a cozy seat at The Jetties, a restaurant on the waterfront where we shared a bottle of red wine, tucked into a gigantic platter of delicious antipasto and ate thin-crust pizza for dinner. The clear skies made the display of fireworks particularly nice that night.

For the next few days, we basked in the leisure afforded by an island in which Time seems to stand still. With no set itinerary of any kind, we breakfasted each morning at the hostel on toasted bagels and peanut butter or bowls of warming oatmeal before setting out for another day’s aimless ambling. When we arrived in Nantucket Town (above left), we had a choice of things to do—we could browse through the upmarket stores that offered everything from one of-a-kind jewelry and uniquely designed houseware to antique maps and engravings. When we got tired of window-shopping, we made our way to the harbor along cobbled streets and well-defined red brick pathways where buoys floated on the crystal-clear waves and sea craft of every kind from fancy yatchs to sail boats and schooners told of the adventurous life  on the high seas. One morning, we joined a throng of folks to browse for used books at the annual book fair held by the public library, a magnificent edifice in the center of town whose marvelous built-in bookcases in solid oak and paintings of dour-faced patrons on the walls brought a hint of intellectual fervor to one’s foraging. That same morning, we rummaged among bric-a-brac at a summer fair held at Our Lady of the Isle Church (yes, there really is such a place) where I found some lovely vintage jewelry.

On yet another afternoon, we climbed the 94 stairs into the tower of the First Congregation Church on Center Street for stunning 360 degree views of the island (left). Indeed, the church itself is a marvel of 18th century architecture with its typical New England colonial white wooden siding and its tall spire reaching towards  Heaven. Inside, each box pew is a testament to the many wealthy families who made their fortunes as whalers at a time when the mammal was fiercely hunted in New England waters. Everywhere we went on Nantucket, reminders of the world of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick assailed us from the nautical motifs in the décor items available in every store as well in the auction houses where antiques featuring sailors’ chests and ship’s lanterns were strongly bid. Indeed, we enjoyed attending one such auction and taking in the thrills of the hunt as bidders vied for old maps, sea-faring oil paintings, battered woolen rugs and carpets and Chinoiserie.

Then, one morning, purely by accident while puttering about Mitchell’s Book Corner, I bumped right into Eleanor Gosse, a good friend of ours from nearby Easton. Her husband Roy once worked with Llew at Creditanstanlt and we have remained close family friends over the years. Eleanor and Roy own a beach cottage on one of the sandy moors that look out over the distant waters of Eel’s Point. They were so delighted to see us and were insistent that we join them for dinner, the next evening, in their beautifully decorated home. Roy picked us up at the appointed hour at a fancy cocktail opening reception at an art gallery featuring the work of one of the best-loved island artists Barbara Capizzo who also happens to be a good friend of theirs. After we had warmed our spirits with wine and edibles, Roy gave us a lovely driving tour of the island, taking us past the grand sea-facing mansions of such celebrities as Tommy Hillfiger and the Heinzs (of Ketchup fame, now the better half of Senator and one-time Presidential hopeful John Kerry). They showed us the shoe-houses that featured in the films Cheaper by the Dozen (both ther 1950s version and the more contemporary one starring Steve Martin) and took us past the Brandt Lighthouse.

Eleanor is a marvelous cook and we enjoyed drinks on their deck overlooking an awesome sunset   (left) before meeting their neighbor John who happens to be the pianist of the local Nantucket Philharmonic. Over swordfish steaks, a baked ziti and a delicious green salad followed by ice-cream and fruit, we had a lovely companionable evening indeed and a most unexpected encounter with friends whose company we always enjoy. Notice their beautiful and very lovable dogs, Magnum and Molly, who were extremely well-behaved all evening long.

 

 

 

 

(At Sconset Village that was ablaze with summer flowers in spilling window boxes)

The next day saw us take the bus to Siasconset (always shortened to Sconset), another ritzy beach at another end of the island where more grand homes and postcard-perfect cottage gardens enchant the eye. Though there is little to interest the urban oriented in these hidden nooks of the island, the natural beauty makes it worth the discovery. Darling cottages with adorable gardens laden with the raucous colors of flowering annuals greeted us everywhere.

Similarly, we once took the bus past the Sankaty Lighthouse to Madaket Beach where the sunsets are major crowd pullers. Beach combers were everywhere, enjoying tanning in the warm sunshine while surf-lovers took to the ocean like porpoises. That afternoon, we sought out the Seagrille Restaurant which reputedly served the best Lobster Bisque on the island. And we were not disappointed. A hearty bowl featured a herb crust beneath which sat a delectable offering of the bisque with large pieces of lobster meat hidden in the creamy depths below. It was a meal in itself

Another evening, in early celebration of my birthday (which was the next day when we’d be traveling on the ferry back home), we made reservations at The Ship’s Inn, a historic old whaling captain’s mansion dating from the mid-1700s. There, we seated ourselves down to a slap-up meal featuring the famous grilled sweet Nantucket Bay scallops served in a creamy sauce. We split a bottle of Chianti and ordered the piece de resistance—whole lobsters prised away from their shells and reassembled on the plate. In its front pincers, it held a quantity of spinach flavored cavatelli, it sat on a bed of brown lentils (to resemble rocks), held a bunch of collard greens (to resemble seaweed) around its tail and swam in a sea of passionfruit-orange reduction. It was so yummy that words could never do it justice. For dessert, we split a Chocolate Souffle Cake with an accompanying pistachio ice-cream. It is clear that the lifestyle on the island of Nantucket has attracted some of the country’s most talented chefs and among the affluent clientele that make the resort their summer hangout, they get ample opportunity to display their culinary creativity. Another unusual attraction are the cranberries that are cultivated in bogs (flooded lakes) and harvested once a year in the fall. Wild blueberries grow all over the island and the local clams and quahogs make the delicious soup (some would call it a stew) known as New England Clam Chowder—one of my favorite dishes. We ordered clam chowder in every eatery as well as the famous Fried Clams and were not disappointed.

On yet another day, we poked around the famous Whaling Museum (left) with its wonderfully nautical exhibits including the old light from an island lighthouse. Though there is nothing much to see by way of ‘attractions’, the true ‘sights’ lie in the abundance of unspoiled nature that encompasses the spirit. Those into water sports will find no dearth of energetic activity, but for the bulk of sun-worshippers who flock to the island, it is enough to lie in the sun all day long and vegetate. Bike enthusiasts will enjoy the clearly defined bike paths all over the island. It is so easy to rent a bike for the week or the day and take off. And it is an excellent idea to leave your car behind on the mainland. The island’s shuttle bus service (very economical at just $4 for a day pass, $2 for a single fare anywhere on the island) is excellent, the drivers chatty and helpful and the schedule clearly marked, allowing visitors to plan days of leisure as they explore the island without dealing with the hassles of traffic, parking, etc.

One of our most memorable experiences was taking a long walk by moonlight along the sandy bluffs on the way to Surfside Beach. In the quiet of the Atlantic summer night, the stars shone down upon us from cloudless skies and a crescent moon lighted our steps towards the salt scented waves of the ocean. It is to moments like these that I return in my daydreams when I wish to escape to parts of the world that have sanctified my spirits.

If it is a short beach break you seek, a few days of pure inactivity, an opportunity to de-stress in the bosom of Mother Nature, there are few parts of North America that you would find more restful. Consider getting away to the island that was beloved to Herman Melville and provided the inspiration for his most popular novel. It is a little parcel of England just three hours driving distance from home. What could warm the heart of a confirmed Anglophile more?
Bon Voyage!

Oahu

Apr12
Hawaii 

Oahu: The Fun Island

The US state of Hawaii, formerly a monarchical kingdom, comprises eight main islands with several tinier ones that don’t usually count—Hawaii (the Big Island), Oahu, Maui, Kauai, Lanai, Moloka’i, Niihau and Kaholo’awe.

Oahu is the most populated (though not the largest—that honor goes to Hawaii, hence its nickname ‘Big Island’) and most popular. Honolulu, the capital city is located on Oahu as is the famed Waikiki Beach (below left).I arrived on June 6  late at night, awfully jetlagged after a fifteen hour flight from New York’s Kennedy airport. My accommodation at the University of Hawaii’s campus was a tiny dorm room. It was fabulous to be a student again, to have a tiny cubicle in a dorm, to share common bath and dining facilities and to have a fabulous campus to explore at leisure.

When I awoke to a cloudy morning after a slight drizzle, I found myself staring wondrously outside my window at the verdant Manoa Valley (below left) where a rainbow was also staining the sky in varied colors. This was the first of many rainbows that I spotted in Hawaii. Every time it gets a trifle too warm, the slightest drizzle appears like a gentle spray. It stops in just a few minutes and as the sun emerges from the clouds, rainbows arch superbly across the skies. It was a sight of which I never tired.

Ilima or Yellow Hibiscus, Hawaii's State FlowerFor the next three weeks, I spent time in-between lecture sessions at the East-West Center, in exploring the island of Oahu beginning with the capital city which can basically be divided into two parts: Waikiki Beach and Downtown Honolulu—the two areas merge into one. Waikiki Beach is the most ‘happening’ place and buzzes with tourist energy.

It’s a great place to be after dark when the neon lights paint the streets in garish colors, the traditional torches are lit all over the main promenades of Kuhio Avenue and Kalakaua Avenue (right) and vacationers strut around in skimpy beach outfits. The avenues are lined with shops selling all sorts of tourist paraphaenalia from postcards to suntan lotion and beach mats. But it is the water that catches your eye and dazzles it. The tints and hues of the Pacific Ocean are impossible to describe—as the light changes, the ribbons of color on the water change from turquoise blue to jade green, from cobalt tones to aquamarine. The waves are gentle giants that do not churn up the sand on the shore, so that the sea remains crystal clear and fish can be spotted with one’s naked eye frolicking in the water. I spent a lot of time at Waikiki, sun-bathing with my View of the Manoa Valley & Waikiki from Makiki Heightsfriends, taking frequent dips in the sea, watching incredible sunsets from the poolside bars of the five-star hotels where we nursed maitais (pineapple juice and rum cocktails) or simply people-watching (see below left). There was never a dull moment as I merged in with the vacation crowds.

The city of Honolulu downtown is an architectural wonder–several styles merge effortlessly together: from Spanish mission style buildings to turn-of-the-century Art Deco buildings to new steel, glass and concrete commercial skyscrapers. In a few well-planned blocks, one can take in the interesting State Capitol Building designed to feature Hawaii’s volcanoes, palm trees and a moat that represents the Pacific Ocean that surrounds the islands. After a tour of Iolani Palace, a Victorian structure in the midst of sprawling green lawns, one felt sorry for the Hawaiian people whose monarchy was overthrown and The Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Waikiki Beachwhose islands were unfairly annexed by the United States for commercial reasons (thriving sugarcane plantations made the American sugar barons greedy enough to find ways they could start to own the land themselves). Queen Liliuokalani, the last Queen of Hawaii, is a revered figure in the state, not just because she fought valiantly to hold on to her kingdom, but because she went down fighting with grace and dignity, quilting bravely in the room in her palace in which she was imprisoned and composing a wealth of folk songs, 400 in number, many of which her people still sing daily including the famous “Aloha Oe”. Another revered hero in Hawaii is Fr. Damien, the Belgian Catholic priest, who traveled to Molokoi to a leper colony to work among the afflicted and to rehabilitate them until he too contracted leprosy and died on Molokoi. His statue adorns the State Capitol Building and there is a museum in his memory in Honolulu.

Hula Dancer and Steel Guitars on Waikiki BeachI toured the state’s Supreme Court and the City Hall, saw the Public Library and the beautiful church of Kawaiaha, constructed entirely of coral reef rocks that were hacked beneath the ocean and brought up by divers in order to build the church. Hawaii’s erstwhile royalty, after conversion to Christianity, worshipped in this church. I also toured the Mission House Museums which consist, among other structures, of a Cape Cod saltbox house that was actually hauled off to Hawaii from New England proving to be terribly impractical for the hot tropical weather! Anglican missionaries arrived in Hawaii in 1820 and quickly transformed the native culture of the islanders, frowning upon traditional hula dancers who wore grass skirts and insisting that long-sleeved dresses be worn instead!

It was very easy to get around the city as an excellent bus system, simply called The Bus, plies all around and with a monthly pass (only $40), one could get unlimited rides all over town. At the extreme end of the downtown area, the demographics change and the presence of Oriental people becomes more noticeable. This is Chinatown where Chinese immigrants brought to the islands to work on the sugar plantations, settled down and made homes for themselves. The restaurants, markets, lei shops, bakeries, grocery stores and clothing shops have a distinctive Chinese look about them though everything closes by 4 pm. Chinatown also has some beautiful Shinto and Buddhist shrines, each one offering fascinating architecture and practices of worship. Later when Llew arrived, we treated ourselves to an unforgettable bowl of Vietnamese pho, a hearty noodle soup with meat, greens and bean sprouts at a nondescript place in Chinatown called Pho-To Chau where the lines were long and the locals waited patiently for the best meal deal in town—only $4.50 for a steaming bowl.

I did most of my sightseeing in Honolulu in the evenings, after classes, but at the weekends, I ventured outside the city limits, armed only with a map, a bus pass and schedule. On a trip to the north of Oahu, I passed thousands of acres of pineapple plantations, and the mist-enshrouded Ko’olau Mountains, drove through the town of Wahiawa and stopped at Hale’iwa, where I took a nap on a startlingly beautiful beach and purchased ‘shave ice’ (a snow cone) from Matsumoto’s, a Japanese general store that serves it with vanilla ice-cream and red azuki beans. The Japanese presence in Oahu is all-pervasive. At least 30% of its permanent residents are retired Japanese and the bulk of the tourists, other than Americans, fly up from Japan, so that prices in the upscale designer stores are written in Japanese and all public signs are bilingual.

On another Saturday morning, I took a bus past the volcanic crater of Diamond Head (which I also overlooked from my dorm room) and went to Hanauma Bay, a gorgeous semi-circular bay with coral reefs very close to the shores. Dozens of snorkelers were already in the waters by the time I donned my own snorkel mask and fins and joined them to take in the sight of hundreds of tropical fish that swam all around my calves and ankles, quite oblivious to the presence of so many human beings. Llew and I saw Hanauma Bay several times from the air on our many inter-island flights and it never ceased to amaze me that underwater volcanic action, thousands of years ago, could have given rise to a natural phenomenon that continues to delight swimmers today.

On another Saturday, I took the bus through southeast Oahu, past Diamond Head and Hanauma Bay and explored the quieter, less ritzy, more residential parts of the island where the local people lived. These areas reminded me very much of Goa or Kerala, with their modest, one-story ranch style homes, their gardens filled with plumeria trees in full bloom, mango and pomelo trees laden with fruit and hedges full of ilima (yellow hibiscus), Hawaii’s state flower. Of course, coconut and banana trees were everywhere which also caused me to recall vacations in Goa. Going past Makappu’u Point with its picturesque light house and Sea Life Park, I drove through the town of Llew and Rochelle on lovely Lanikai BeachWaimanalo, then got off the bus at Kailua Beach where local Hawaiian families were picnicking with pleasure and the smell of barbecued meats assailed my nostrils. I took a long nap at Kailua Beach while facing the stunning jade green waters, before taking the bus back to campus on the wonderful Pali Highway that affords one of the most beautiful drives on Oahu.

Just a week after I arrived in Honolulu, the whole state celebrated the birthday of King Kamehameha, who in the 1600s, after many bloody battles, succeeded in uniting all the Hawaiian Islands. He is a cultural hero and his statue adorns the exterior of City Hall. The Parade in his honor passed down Kalakaua Avenue at Waikiki allowing us to take in the sights of local Hawaiians on horseback and in vintage cars, not to mention a succession of lovely, colorful floats that depicted the culture and history of the Hawaiians. Every float and passing car was made special by the addition of Hawaii’s glorious flora—anthuriums, orchids, heliconia, ginger flowers, birds of Paradise, elephant ears, crotons, etc. so that the flower-lover in me enjoyed this aspect of the parade more than anything else. The King Kamehameha Day holiday allowed the Japanese to participate in many cultural events so that for the entire weekend, I felt as if I were in Tokyo rather than in an American capital city. I saw a huge number of Japanese dances, performed in stunning costumes in Ala Moana Shopping Center, one of the principal malls, and at the bandstand in Queen Kapiolani Park. I sampled mochi, a delicious rice flour cake stuffed with sweetened red azuki beans, tried my hand at paper tearing and mask painting, watched my friends get a spiritual massage, and received many pretty freebies such as tiny Japanese beanie dolls, samples of exotic soaps in fragrances like lavender and ginger, bookmarks made by the talented paper tearers and note pads. It was a lovely way to spend the weekend and I made the most of it.

Upon Llew’s arrival in Honolulu, we made a beeline together for the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor where on December 7, 1941—“a day that will live in infamy”– hundreds of Japanese bombers arrived by top secret and sank dozens of American fighter ships with hundreds of crew on board. This frightful event dragged the USA into World War II and is the subject of several wonderful films that I had seen over the years, never dreaming that, one day, I would actually tour Pearl Harbor myself. Hawaii’s most visited site, it is difficult to get tickets to see the Memorial, so that Llew stood in line for hours while I attended classes. When I did join him at the site, we watched a fine film that filled us in on the historical details, then boarded a ferry boat that took us across to the USS Arizona that still lies sunk in about forty feet of water providing a watery grave for the 1140 crew who sank with her in five minutes when she was torpedoed. It was decided never to bring the sunken ship above water, so that the heroes who died in that attack lie entombed in the rusting ship. In recent years, a memorial was built astride the ship, containing a memorial wall on which is engraved the names of each one of the sailors who perished. It is a solemn venue, made more poignant by the fact that tropical fish could be seen swimming through the remnants of the ship, some parts of which are still visible above water. As someone whose research has encompassed mass-death and the memorials that are built to commemorate those deaths, I was fascinated by this visit and found more material for inclusion in my forthcoming book.

On a trip to the Honolulu Academy of the Arts, I made friends with a former Westporter named Manu Chakravarty, a docent who took us through the South Asian Art galleries, then gave me a tour of the Native Hawaiian Art galleries with their collections of feather leis and capes and al’i (chieftain) wands, paintings of volcanic action and engravings of Mission life, koa wood calabashes, etc. But what caught my eye, most memorably, was a marvelous vignette of Hawaiian marine life interpreted entirely in art glass by Seattle-based Dale Chihuly, my favorite glass artist of all time. It contained Chihuly’s signature pieces such as his gigantic glass shells, pearls, sea horses, starfish, etc.

With Manu and Gautam Chakravarty at the Nu'annu Pali LookoutManu and her husband Gautam became friends of ours and treated us to a driving tour of Oahu, taking us to places that we were unable to reach by bus. Among these was a visit to the Museum of Contemporary Art, a drive through the towering Makiki Heights where we received glorious views of Honolulu and Waikiki Beach, a visit to the stunning Nu’uanu Pali Lookout which offers sweeping views of the leeward side of Oahu, the towns of Kaneohe and Kailua, and the Old Pali Highway, on which we drove through a thick rain forest with the most massive banyan trees that will forever remain in my memory. They also took us over a Japanese bridge to the red and gold Byodo-In Temple, a replica of a Buddhist temple in Japan which included a pond full of koi (Oriental goldfish), black swans, a Zen garden and grounds full of peacocks. It was like a scene out of a fantasy and we enjoyed every moment there.

On Kailua and Lanikai Beaches, we saw more vacationers who wished to get far from the madding crowd, as well as local Hawaiians in their outrigger canoes.

Maui

Apr12
Hawaii

Maui: Honeymooners’ Paradise

What can one say about Hawaii’s idyllic island of Maui that hasn’t been said before? How does one try to capture in words the incredible beauty and the softness of the air in this tropical paradise? Suffice it to say that Maui is the most popular destination of honeymooners.

Llew and I rented a car and drove south towards the famous Maui Ocean Center, a brand-new aquarium which is considered one of the world’s finest. The marine lover in Llew was fully delighted by everything that the aquarium had to offer. Most fascinatingly conceived and constructed, the visitor enters the aquarium, then keeps walking downwards, lower and lower into the sea, arriving finally at the coral reefs at the ocean’s bottom. At each level, one sees the tropical fish and coral life that are distinctive to that level, so that when one is finally at“rock bottom”, one is in a tube or tunnel with water surrounding one on all sides and sharks and sting rays sliding evilly past. We were able to identify so many of the tropical fish that we have seen only in aquariums so far. To actually see them in their natural habitat was quite astounding to us. We took a lot of pictures, but none of them can quite do justice to the variety and the colors of the underwater life we were fortunate enough to see. We also saw Hawaii’s famous green sea turtles, a shark’s favorite food for the quality and taste of its meat. By this stage, we had realized that this vacation was different from any of the ones we had taken in the past as Nature was our main focus this time.The outcome of our acquarium visit was that we learned that Hawai’s state fish in Hawai’ian is called the Hunu-hunu-nuku-nuku-apu-aua. Try saying that ten times really fast!

Rochelle poses by the USA’s oldest banyan tree in Lahaina

We then inched up the gorgeous west coast of Maui to the old historic town of Lahaina, once famous as a whaling center. We checked into our luxurious Bed and Breakfast called The Guest House, then set out to eat lunch at a local eatery called the Aloha Mixed Plate, famous for its “plate lunches”, a Hawaiian specialty consisting of “two scoops rice” and macaroni salad together with a Japanese influenced entrée such as chicken katsu, teriyaki beef or fried ahi (tuna). After a delectable meal, we drove to the center of town to explore Lahaina by foot and take in the 130 year old banyan tree that is over two acres wide, the old Whalers Inn, the Court House, the Chinese Temple, the Waterfront, etc. Lahaina has a great deal of old-world charm and character and we were struck by its quaint beauty. Crowds of people thronged the main streets while others relaxed at the beach and took the day slowly. Later that evening, we made our way to the Old Lahaina Luau, considered the best luau in Hawaii and one for which I had to make reservations months in advance as we arrived there on the evening of July Fourth!

Our arrival was signaled by the draping of fresh purple orchid leis around our necks and the taking of our picture with our hostess for the evening. We did take a peak at the famous whole Kahlua pig that is roasted underground in an imu or buried oven. We had a nice group at our table and over maitais and pina coladas, we sampled a massive buffet of Hawaiian food such as lomi lomi salmon, chicken lau lau, chicken long rice, kalua pig, poi (taro pounded into an insipid paste), sweet potatoes, macadamia nut encrusted mahi mahi, Polynesian steak, a variety of salads and desserts that included haupia (coconut pudding), chocolate cups with passion fruit mousse filling, macadamia nut pies, etc. While we sampled this variety of desserts, the cultural variety program began with the lights dimming and dancers reproducing for us the history of the Hawaiian Islands through hula, Hawaiian steel guitars, etc. It was a flurry of color and sound as costumes and setting contributed to make it memorable.

The next day, we drove to Pai’ia to start the incredible and very famous “Heavenly Drive to Hana”, over a road that snaked fifty miles one way and fifty miles back past the stunning blue of the ocean, over thickly canopied rain forest, over 615 tiny bridges (yes, they did count them) and over imposing cliffs before we arrived at journey’s end at O’he Gulch or the site of the Seven Sacred Pools where we waded over slippery rocks, ate a superb picnic lunch that we had previously purchased at Pai’ia and then began the drive back.

Fr. Damien’s island of Molokoi seen from Maui (left) and Rochelle at O’he Gulch, Mulch

En route, we stopped at Hasegawa’s General Store, a Hana landmark which year-round celebrity residents like Kris Kristofferson and Richard Pryor are supposed to frequent (alas, we did not spot any!) and took a long and soothing swim at Koki Beach near the village of Hamoa. In the late evening, after enjoying another round of excellent shave ice at Pai’ia, we flew back to Honolulu, reluctant to leave the islands and hesitant to get back to the stress of our normal lives after one of the loveliest vacations we have ever enjoyed.

Llew and I loved Hawaii enough to want to retire there someday. It offers perfect weather conditions, year-round; has flora and foliage that reminded us very much of India; is multi-racial and multi-cultural; has a vast amount of native culture and traditional history; has beaches and mountains, valleys and farms; boasts unbelievable tropical marine life; is unpolluted, sparsely populated and boasts the calm ‘aloha’ (read: chalta hai) lifestyle that South Asians who live in the USA crave. What was not to love?

Bon Voyage!

Kauai

Apr12
Hawaii 

Kauai: Island of Deep Canyons, Green Valleys, Gushing Waterfalls and Towering Cliffs

On our first weekend together, Llew and I flew to the island of Kauai, which is nicknamed The Garden Isle because it is so lushly green and verdant. Arriving at Lihue airport, early in the morning, we rented a car and drove to Poipu Beach where we swam and snorkeled for a while, then visited Old Koloa Town, a recreated town now filled with restaurants, souvenir stores and “activity shops” which are places that offer helicopter or catamaran rides, dinner cruises, luaus, etc. After a quick lunch at the town of Waimea, we drove to Waimea Canyon which is called the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific” and quite justifiably so. On an island in which green is the dominant color, this canyon offers a multitude of colors in the rocks and cliffs that make up the gorge. At several lookout points on the drive that climbed up to elevations of over 4,000 feet, we were struck breathless by the views that were often engulfed in mist. Dozens of waterfalls added to the beauty of the scenery. In addition, we saw wild “moa” birds everywhere on Kauai—these look like common barnyard hens and roosters, but they are, in fact, a different species brought to the Hawaiian Islands by the early Polynesians. They became extinct on the other islands, however, as the mangoose that was brought to destroy the rodent population of the islands also ended up eating eggs laid by ground-laying birds. Since the mangoose was never introduced to Kauai, the moa birds have thrived here. Interestingly, though it is an Eden-like garden covered with tropical greenery, there are no snakes anywhere in Hawaii. The authorities were mortally afraid of even introducing them into the Honolulu Zoo for fear that they might escape and populate the islands with more snakes. This hasn’t happened, at least so far, leaving hikers and trekkers with no fear of snakes anywhere—a very comforting thought when we trekked over the Manoa Falls Trail (in Oahu) past some of the most breathtaking rainforest to get to the sight of a hundred foot waterfall thundering down the cliffs.

After a truly lovely drive through the Waimea Canyon, Llew and I decided to splurge on a really superb dinner at The Beach House voted “Kauai’s Most Romantic Restaurant” as a result of the spectacular sunsets that one can enjoy from its tables. We were fortunate to get a reservation and settled down to a truly impressive meal starting with tropical drinks like Maitais and Lava Flows and sampling the excellent fresh fish (mahimahi) and duck and the decadent chocolate desserts with macadamia nut mousse. By the time we checked into the Kahaleo Inn Bed and Breakfast, we were ready for a good night’s sleep as we would be waking early the next morning to take our helicopter ride around the island.

And what a ride it was! Never having flown in a helicopter before, Llew and I were tremendously excited to board the 7-seater aircraft captained by a pilot who was a brilliant raconteur as well. As we ascended from the Lihue helipad, we flew over the airport, then made our way along the crests and ridges of the mountains. Most of Kauai is inaccessible by road which makes a helicopter ride a most sensible way by which to explore the island. Our pilot took our helicopter to the various venues where opening scenes from Jurrasic Park were shot, including the waterfalls hidden in the folds of the mountains. While skimming over the red, brown and green layers of the Waimea Canyon, we spied the road along which we had driven the previous day. Then, making a turn, the pilot took us to the Na Pali Cliffs on the northern side of Kauai where we were spellbound by mile after mile of towering cliffs that rose vertically from the sea’s edge making them inaccessible by any other means of transport except helicopter or catamaran. The waters were so clear that we could see the coral reefs clearly from the air. Leaving the cliffs behind, we flew inland into the Waileialeia Valley, called the “wettest spot on earth” as the area receives more than 400 inches of rainfall a year. We then flew right into the heart of a dormant volcano, skimmed around its steep concave sides, seemingly brushing past the highest branches of the trees growing luxuriantly in the valleys. On the last leg of our ride, we flew over the Wailua Falls, twin jets of water that spilled into a shallow, wide basin pool below, a venue we also explored later by car on the ground. Overall, our helicopter ride was an amazing experience and one that allowed us to skim over the highest peaks and descend into the deepest valleys, while covering the beaches where such famous films as From Here to Eternity were shot.

After riding the helicopter, we drove to the north of Kauai to the cute little town of Hanelei, where we passed by picturesque one-lane bridges, taro plantations, banana groves, etc. before arriving at Ke’e Beach at the northern tip just where the Na Pali Cliffs rise out of the waters. On our way, we made stops at Kilauea Wildlife Refuge where we saw thousands of native sea birds clinging to the cliffs like pieces of white fabric flapping in the wind and visited the Kilauea Lighthouse. Since guavas are my favorite fruit, we visited a guava plantation where we sampled juice, jam and ice-cream. But I was very disappointed to discover that, in Hawaii, guavas are not eaten as fruit. They are only crushed to make jams and juices and as such the hybrid varieties are huge but quite tasteless on the rare occasion that you do find them in a farmer’s market.

Many visitors believe that Kauai is the most beautiful of the Hawai’ian islands. I have to admit, however, that having toured every single one of the main islands, we found it impossible to pick a favorite. Why don’t you traverse them all and let us know what your Pick of the Islands was!

Bon Voyage!

The Big Island

Apr12

Big Island

Hawaii 

 

(At the entrance to Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park)

The Big Island:  Of Live Volcanoes and Gushing Lava Flows

Llew poses by the sculpture of lei-makers at Kona Airport on Haewai'i's Big IslandMost folks flying on to Hawaii’s “Big Island”, arrive at Kona airport which must be the most unique architectural design Llew and I  have ever seen for an airport. It consisted of several buildings shaped like volcanoes, each of which formed a part of the passenger terminals. The effect was of a rustic village instead of a regular airport (left).

Renting a car again, we drove south towards the picturesque Kailua-Kona village past nothing but black lava rock formations. We realized, almost at once, how different Hawaii was from Kauai. Down the famous Ali Drive in Kona, we edged along the sea wall past restaurants and shops and arrived at St. Peter’s Catholic Church (above), the tiniest church in the world, perched right at the water’s edge and boasting an interior that was smaller than our living room! We also stopped along the way at St. Benedict’s “Painted Church”, so called because one of its earliest pastors painted scenes from the Bible on its interior walls in order to teach the local Hawaiians about Christian doctrine (below).

Pushing on towards Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, we stopped for a bit at Punalu’u Beach where we saw a black sand beach for the first time in our lives, made entirely of lava rock that has eroded to fine sand (see below left).

It was quite a fantastic sight! We also stopped to sample Portuguese sweet bread at the Punalu’u Bake Shop where the chocolate éclairs and the malasadas (Portuguese doughnuts) were scrumptious.

When we finally arrived at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, it was about 2.30 pm, the perfect stage at which to begin our exploration of the Crater Rim Road which took us past the main volcanic craters left behind by eruption activity through the centuries. Some of these craters, such as Kilauea Calder, were still smoking as was evident from the steam vents at which we paused to get a natural sauna bath and the yellow sulphur deposits seen on the crater floor.

Llew at the Thurston Lava Tube and with Rochelle at the Kilauea CraterAmong the many hikes we took at the park, was one through the Thurston Lava Tube where the vegetation outside was lush but inside the tube (right), it was pitch dark and slimy. When we were finally ready to make our way to the edge of Crater Rim Road to see the live lava flowing into the sea, we just couldn’t contain our excitement, as this was the whole reason that we had traveled to the Big Island.

Arriving at the end of Crater Rim Road, after a long and snaky drive downhill past vast land newly formed by lava flows, we joined hundreds of other visitors, all intent on viewing the same unforgettable sight (right). We parked our car and started the long and arduous three mile hike towards the fresh lava flows from Pu’u O’o Volcano which has been spewing molten lava regularly since 1987. Walking gingerly over the black lava rocks, I was afraid about how we would make our way back to the car in pitch darkness and I was grateful for our flashlight. Since the lava flows have covered a great part of the road, we actually passed by traffic speed signs that have been engulfed in lava.

Closer to the venue, we saw the golden glow of live lava flows at the ocean’s edge and knew that we had a very special treat in store if we could withstand the continued hike over still-warm lava rocks to the spot where landscape met seascape. When we did eventually get there, feeling the heat like a warm sauna around us all the way, after an excruciating hike over lava rocks, we saw a sight that is impossible to describe (below left).

Molten lava was pushing from the lower levels of the volcano and snaking its way towards the ocean so that when the flowing fire reached the waves, the hiss of clouding steam could clearly be heard as we saw creation in the making. The lava eventually dries and forms new land, extending the island, so that the Big Island is still an unfinished project of Nature! While we stood there, struck with disbelief, we saw new streams of molten lava join the initial flows and create one massive snake that poured, almost spigot-like, into the water. As night fell over the scene, the blaze grew more vivid and the hushed disbelief with which people watched the sight made the hissing of the waters seem louder. The burning lava continued to glow under water even as it was cooled by the ocean’s waves. This live volcanic activity was what we had flown to the Big Island to see and we were not disappointed! It will always remain one of the most formidable sights of our lives as we felt humbled in the awesome presence of Nature.

(With Peter Herschock and his son Kaiyo–left– at Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park and on the still-warm lava flows that cover the national highway–below)

Rochelle poses by a lava-covered speed sign on the highway just before seeing the awesome molten lava pouring into the ocean (right)

Making our way back in the dark to our car, we ended up spending the night at Aloha Junction Bed and Breakfast at Volcano Village where we had a very comfortable night. However, we had another early start as we left the next day for our flight to the island of Maui arriving at Kilelei airport, a couple of hours later.

Hawaii

Apr12

HAWAI’I  DIARY: An Account of Five Weeks in Paradise

(Llew and Rochelle at Kailua Beach on the Island of Oahu in Hawai’i)

For most people, an opportunity to visit Hawai’i for even a week is a chance in a lifetime. When I spent five whole weeks on the paradisiac island of Oahu in the South Pacific, I decided to document by travels meticulously through word and picture. Llew joined me for the last two weeks and as we island-hopped, we picked up deep tans, a bit of Hawai’an and a lasting love for the place. We’ve decided that when we retire, it might well be in this most tropical of American states.

Follow us now on our travels in Hawai’i…

Returning from a trip to Hawaii is to miss the wonderfully colorful landscape of the islands. Right now in Connecticut, with high summer upon us, everything is a lovely green; but there are no vivid shades of pink, purple or crimson to relieve the verdant landscape or paint it with startling tropical colors.

The US state of Hawaii, formerly a monarchical kingdom, comprises eight main islands with several tinier ones that don’t usually count—Hawaii (the Big Island), Oahu, Maui, Kauai, Lanai, Moloka’i, Niihau and Kaholo’awe. Oahu is the most populated (though not the largest—that honor goes to Hawaii, hence its nickname ‘Big Island’) and most popular. Honolulu, the capital city is located on Oahu as is the famed Waikiki Beach. I arrived on June 6 at Honolulu airport, late at night, awfully jetlagged after a fifteen hour flight from New York’s Kennedy airport. My accommodation at the University of Hawaii’s campus was a tiny dorm room. When I awoke to a cloudy morning after a slight drizzle, I found myself staring wondrously outside my window at the verdant Manoa Valley where a rainbow was also staining the sky in varied colors. This was the first of many rainbows that I spotted in Hawaii. Every time it gets a trifle too warm, the slightest drizzle appears like a gentle spray. It stops in just a few minutes and as the sun emerges from the clouds, rainbows arch superbly across the skies. It was a sight of which I never tired.

Please click on the links below to peek into my Hawai’i Diary as we traverse the four major islands that make up this idyllic American state.

St. Augustine

Apr12

North America’s First City

 The old Spanish town of St. Augustine was truly a revelation. It was my brother Roger who, having visited the city earlier, suggested that we include it on our itinerary, and I was grateful for his advice after we had surveyed the attractions it offered. Established as the oldest town in America by the Spaniard explorers in 1565, Pedro Menendez de Aviles is credited for putting the town on the map, having named it for the saint upon whose feast day his ship landed ashore. Over the centuries, it has attracted a vast number of settlers eager to find their fortunes in the New World. For the contemporary traveler, the city offers a wealth of reminders of what colonial American looked like under Spanish influence.

We began our exploration the way we usually do—at the Visitors Center. From there, armed with maps and recommendations for restaurants, we walked to the historic district, passing through the old City Gates (left) wrought in giant stone masonry and sporting huge cannonballs on their pedestals. Right past the gates, the town opens up to the famous St. George Street where the bulk of the action is located. Lined with souvenir shops, restaurants, ice-cream parlors and amusement arcades, the street retains its delightful Spanish ambience in the distinctive architecture that characterizes all small Mediterranean towns.

Having seen this architecture in some old pockets of Bombay quite frequently through the Portuguese settlers, I was charmed to note how similar in style and conception these communities were. St. George Street (right)  is also the location of the oldest wooden school house in the country where tours of the interior are offered. Deciding to eat brunch, we made our way to Aviles Street, past the Plaza de la Constitution, a green oasis that forms the Basilica-Cathedral Square. At Las Haciencas Restaurant, we ate gigantic Spanish omelettes, then resumed our walking tour of the town.

St. Augustine is extremely walker-friendly and there is nothing that cannot be reached on foot. After a visit to the spectacular interior of the Cathedral with its magnificent marble altar, we left the ancient Spanish Quarter behind us, and walked down King Street where the ambience changed dramatically.

This was more modern, sophisticated St. Augustine—the St. Augustine of Henry Flagler who has a college named after him. Indeed, the old Ponce de Leon Hotel that he designed and created with an eye to attracting wealthy Americans to the sunny South, has been turned today into a superb institution of higher learning. The splendor of the building called Flagler College has to be seen to be believed. Not only is the exterior stunning, but the main lobby (today the Visitors Lobby) is a study in gilded Renaissance Baroque excess. We walked around the grand building, then crossed King Street to get to the Lightner Museum, also one of Flagler’s former hotels, then called the Alcazar.

Today, the Lightner houses the individual collection of Chicago publisher Otto C. Lightner who spent his lifetime amassing decorative Victorian artifacts from clocks and marble fountains to carved wooden tables and Tiffany stained glass windows. The gardens that surround the building are equally compelling for the avid visitor and the koi that swam under the Japanese bridges were fascinating. The outsides of Flagler’s former hotels, all in the Hispano-Moorish style, are truly breathtaking. This drama is seen also in the Cordoba Hotel, Flagler’s third, which stands adjacent to the Lightner—together they make a stylish architectural statement and give St. Augustine an august grandeur.
Castillo de San Marco:

Our next stop was at the Castillo de San Marco which lies across the broad Avenida Menendez. The bridge across the river is flanked by twin lions but the fortress sits on the seafront, occupying a position of strategic beauty. The Spanish colonizers began work on this stone fortification in 1672. Successive settlers in the region added to its dimensions so that it is a hulking structure today but deeply aesthetic in the star shape that its bastions have taken. Built uniquely of coquina, a combination of powdered compressed seashell and coral with mortar, the structure’s walls remain delicate and subject to easy destruction. After the US gained control of Florida from the Spaniards in 1821, the fortress was renamed Fort Marion and used during the Civil War as a military prison, hospital and storage depot. Today maintained by the US Park Service, self-guided tours costing $6 each take visitors through the antiquated environs, allowing visits to the old infirmary, the soldiers’ barracks, the chapel, etc. Though much of the fortress has fallen into disuse, effective reconstruction is slowly bringing it back to its former glory. We were fortunate enough to see a re-enactment of a canon-firing ceremony on the gun deck undertaken as if at Fort Marion in the days of the Civil War. Confederate soldiers dressed in the blue coats of that period performed the ceremony on the ramparts of the fort under perfectly blue skies that were mirrored in the perfectly blue waters of the ocean. It was easy to imagine how effectively those canons might have delivered their deadly ammunition to their unfortunate targets. Later in our rambles around the moat, the watch towers and the guard rooms, we had a chance to escape into a former century and imagine what life might have looked like when lived in an age of siege.

(Llew stands outside the oldest wooden schoolhouse in the USA and Rochelle stands outsdie the oldest house in the USA)

St. Augustine truly offers a glimpse of the kind of Florida one does not see anywhere else in the state. It is a tribute to the pioneering zeal, if destructive spirit, of the greedy Spanish colonists who arrived in the New World for god, gold and glory but left behind a living legacy of their national culture. Glad to have experienced this spirit for ourselves, we spent a night further south in Titusville before heading off the next day to Palm Beach.

Bon Voyage!

Palm Beach & Boca Raton

Apr12

Florida’s Perfect Palm Beach and Bewitching Boca

Palm Beach is every bit as chi-chi as you might have heard. Though I have traveled to the ritziest parts of California (Belle Air, Hollywood and Rodeo Drive, for instance), I have never seen so privileged a lifestyle as I saw on the streets of this impeccable city. This is the place to people-watch if catching glimpses of the beau monde is your cup of tea. Henry Flagler is once again to be credited for visualizing and creating this playground for the rich and famous at the end of the 19th century. In the early twentieth century, he was joined in his efforts by architect Addison Mizner who designed and built a number of grand Spanish style mansions for the well-heeled who made this city their winter playground.

There is literally not a street out of place is this superbly planned city. From the minute you drive into its palatial environs, past the tall coconut palms that line the wide boulevards, you sense in your bones that you are in the company of American aristocracy. The town is dominated by the red-roofed turrets of the old Royal Porciana Hotel, today an apartment building. Even the high school building by which we passed, has all the aura of a Spanish hacienda. We were struck by the amount of time, money and energy that has gone into keeping this city uniform in its architectural appeal and in the addition of the distinctive embellishments that make good architecture great.
Using my trusty DK Eye-Witness Guide Book, we parked our car and took a walking tour of the city, starting at Sunrise Avenue where we stepped briefly into St. Edward Church to see some of the most amazing stained glass windows in the south. Right opposite the church is Greene’s Pharmacy and Luncheonette which has been steadily in business since the 1930s and offers all the old-fashioned ambience of a casual city diner and soda fountain.
Back in our car, we drove to one of the most famous hotels of the south, The Breakers, where, at The Seafood Bar, in an attempt to cast a glance at the posh interiors of the lobby, we decided to have a light lunch of the famous Florida Hearts of Palm Salad. Also conceived and designed by Flagler, The Breakers is an opulent piece of work indeed, as astonishing on the inside as it is impressive on the outside. The lobby is so magnificent that we felt as if we were in a museum. Occupying an enviable piece of real estate, right on the waterfront whose waves give the hotel its name, we were so taken by the building lapped by the jade waters of the Atlantic that lay just a stone’s throw away from us as we lunched in right royal style.

 Continuing our exploration of Palm Beach, we drove towards Worth Street, one of the prettiest shopping areas I have ever seen. Lined by low slung buildings in the most appealing pastel shades, the shop fronts had charming displays of some of the world’s most expensive luxury goods from watches and designer clothing to alligator skin handbags and stone-studded jewelry. A fine showcase of American wealth, Worth Street made pleasant window shopping even if one didn’t wish to part with a penny.

Back in our car, we continued our driving tour of the city arriving at Casa de Leoni (left), the home that Mizner built as his private residence on the banks of Lake Worth. Everywhere we went we saw a similar style in homes that were well concealed behind tall and superbly manicured hedges—Spanish red tiled roofs overhung pink abode and stuccoed walls adorned with delicate wrought iron trellises at windows and Juliet-style balconies. Overall, these architectural confections whispered Old Money. So rich are the townspeople that even the Town Hall is a work of art and when viewed from the street corner it is easy to mistake the buildings that make up the Town Hall Corner for a really prosperous part of modern Spain. We were sorry that Whitehall, the private winter residence of Henry Flagler, today the Flagler Museum, is closed on Mondays, making it impossible for us to see the undoubtedly breathtaking interiors.

Beguiling Boca Raton:

 

 

 

 

 

(Llew–left–and Rochelle–right–at Mizner Park in Boca Raton)

We stopped for ice-cream at Greene’s Luncheonette where the portions were huge and the service was old-fashioned, before we hit the highway again and headed towards Boca Raton to get an idea of the city that is generally referred to as “Boca”. Also visualized by Mizner as being a secondary Palm Beach, the extravagance that comprises the city did not materialize in his own lifetime but developed only after his demise into the commercial dream that it is today. In this city too, it is well-manicured golf courses and country clubs, high end stores and shopping plazas that make the tourist gasp in wonder. We decided to drive directly to Mizner Park, named after this brilliant visionary, a space where a Cultural Center, a Museum of Fine Art and a collection of upscale stores sit cheek by jowl in a superbly-planned space that sparkles with Spanish style fountains and cobbled sidewalks. Today’s city planners have continued Mizner’s dream, building plazas that echo his great love for Spanish detail as seen in the ice-cream hued walls and red tiled roofs that adorn them.

Without straying from our itinerary too long, we got back into our car and continued driving further south along the east coast, taking the more scenic Route 1 which skirts the coast offering lovely glimpses of the clear blue waters of the Atlantic and the many coastal homes that dot the region. We made our home for the next three nights at Dania Beach just south of Fort Lauderdale where our friends Allan and Martha Rodriguez live. We called it a night rather early as the next morning would see us wake up at the crack of dawn to board our cruise ship for our first glimpse of the Caribbean Islands of the Bahamas.

Bon Voyage!

Naples

Apr12

Naples: Florida’s Italianate City

 

 

 

 

 

Our visit to Naples on the West Coast of Florida was completely unplanned. Discovering upon leaving that we would, upon our return drive home, be arriving in Charleston, South Carolina, by the late afternoon, we made an impulsive decision to drive across the state on what is called Alligator Alley to get to Naples. I had heard a great deal about this immaculate town and resolved to get a quick glimpse into the West Coast lifestyle. The drive, far from being boring, was thick with bird life. Though we did not see any alligators on the alley, we did see a variety of stocks and herons for the road passes through several wetlands and conservation areas.
When we arrived in Naples, we drove directly to the residential area known as Pelican Bay to meet up with our friends Doris and Hank Herbring, formerly of Southport, who have retired to Florida for the majority of the year. Their home on Via Mezner was simply charming. Driving along the broad tree-lined boulevards was a revelation of the kind of posh lifestyle that is possible when one has saved carefully over a lifetime to live a retired life of quiet luxury. We passed mile after mile of emerald-green golf courses and fancy country clubs, big name retail stores and every conceivable restaurant chain. When we did get to the Herbrings, we were bewitched by the style and ambience of their lovely home. A pergola covered with magenta bouganvillea led us into their covered sunny porch and into a living room that was flooded with sunlight from the picture windows. After we had spent a while catching up with our friends who looked remarkably fit and tanned and bursting with vitality, they took us for a walk around their pool and club house to give us an insight into the kind of life they lead. Next, they drove us to the “terminus” for a “tram”—really little more than a roomy golf cart—which then took us down to Pelican Bay past the most colorful bird life. Imagine our delight when we passed by a sand bank and saw a dozen lively baby alligators, no bigger than large lizards, being hounded by hungry stocks and egrets. As the alligators slithered towards the safety of the water, the egrets pounced down upon them leaving them little chance of survival. Thrilled that we had spotted alligators in Florida, albeit a nest of baby ones, we felt as if we were on an exotic vacation to a South Pacific Island or at a Disney theme park passing under tropical waterfalls whose caverns were stocked with plumed wonders. In a few moments, we arrived at the beautiful spotless white beach. The tide was in and waves came right up to the sunbathers’ toes as they tanned steadily beneath their blue beach umbrellas.

Then, bidding goodbye to the Herbrings, we drove to Downtown Naples to take in the enticements of Fifth Avenue. The buildings sport the same pastel colors which I had, by this point, begun to recognize as typically Floridian. Lovely shops, real estate agencies, casual restaurants and boutiques were scattered amidst fountains, cobbled squares and low slung bridges as we made our way down the road. Since it was such a lovely afternoon, it was not surprising that retirees and preppy youngsters chose to sit at pavement cafes sipping their java at leisure as shiny luxury cars made their way down the main street. While Miami, Palm Beach and Boca exude a distinctly Spanish flavor, the essence of life here in Naples, like the city from where it derives its name, is decidedly Italian. Streets are named with Via (meaning “road” in Italian) in their prefixes and pillars and classical Roman statuary are used decoratively everywhere the eye turns

In every way, Naples reeked conservative wealth and prosperity and we were very pleased to have seen how the other half lives in America. Most of Florida seems to be populated with older people who, in the winter, live the good life, their daily routine interspersed with tennis and golf, manicures and perms at the local salons, daytime shopping expeditions and night-time meals eaten al fresco while sipping chilled wines. It is a lifestyle that is deeply enviable and thoroughly Floridian. Come June, most of these Snowbirds will have migrated to cooler climes northwards, leaving their gorgeous homes vacant until the arrival of the next  winter. We were glad we had a small taste of Naples. We understood why real estate in this part of the country is so pricey and sought-after.

Bon Voyage!

Miami

Apr12

Miami

Magical Miami

The next day, we drove south to the fabulous coastal city of Miami which seemed to us like a world unto itself. Miami wears many different faces, each designed to suit a distinct venue. Our first stop was Vizcaya (left) , Miami’s most frequently visited sight, and once home to millionaire industrialist James Deering who made his fortune in McCormick Spices—who’d have guessed? Completed in 1916 as his winter retreat, Vizacaya was built in imitation of a Venetian palazzo and indeed when we stood out on the patio outside the ornate East Loggia overlooking the high waters of Biscayne Bay, I could have sworn I was looking across Venice at the Island of Murano. Deering’s architects and designers spared no pains or expense to create a space that was extravagant enough to house his impressive collection of art and artifacts from the Middle Ages down. Meanwhile, his landscape designers created formal gardens so perfectly symmetrical that when viewed from the air they look like an Oriental carpet!

In the hands of one of the best guides I have ever heard, Judith Connors, we took a tour of the interiors, passing through the many rooms on the ground floor that were jam packed with his mighty collection of classical urns and statuary, Medieval and Renaissance chairs, tables and water fountains, formal furnishings and marble bath tubs. The Neo-Classical obsession with symmetry and balance is well evident in the construction of the interiors with their faux doors and secret passages, all superbly embellished with moldings, pilasters, pediments, etc. In this concoction of a home that blended comfort with splendor it was easy enough to see how the other half lived at a time of stupendous money-making and spectacular losses. Vizcaya survived the vagaries of the Great Depression but even Deering wondered if he’d be able to keep up the expenses that the monstrous size of the home demanded. Having stayed unmarried and producing no heirs, his estate passed into the hands of the City Fathers who actually contemplated razing Vizcaya to the ground until better counsel prevailed. The home was saved and opened to the public. Today, it serves as a fantastic receptacle for some of the most apparent grandeur of America’s early entrepreneurs.
Leaving the superbly landscaped environs of Vizacaya behind us and passing by the glass and concrete skyscrapers of Downtown Miami, we made our way towards Little Havana, the area that developed in the 1960s after Cuba fell into the hands of Fidel Castro. The very first Cuban refugees who fled the new Communist regime were wealthy, conservative, right wing entrepreneurs who brought their money and their business acumen across the waters to Miami. Today, they do business in Little Havana, united in their hatred for Castro, their fierce love for their homeland fed by undying nostalgia and their similar politics. Strolling down Calle Oche which is the commercial heart of their ethnic quarter, we saw establishments selling the strong dark Cuban coffee, traditional Cuban sandwiches and Spanish newspapers. At Maximo Gomez Park, we saw old-timers playing dominoes, passing the time of day in peaceful retirement, the walls of their little hang-out sporting murals that featured some of the most notorious leaders of Latin America.
Since our guide book suggested we get a meal at Versailles (rather oddly named for a Cuban hangout, we thought), we had lunch there. The restaurant is an old bastion of Cuban culture and is suitably decorated with etched glass panes, grand mirrors, wait staff clad in olive green outfits who speak not a word of English and couldn’t understand why, with our olive skin and dark hair, we claimed not to speak Spanish ourselves! In a place that was bustling with lunch time patrons, we saw people dressed to the nines in old-world fashion—pearls and strappy sandals for the women, light suits, ties and well-polished shoes for the men—the maitre d’hotel, a true relic of the 1950s, wore a tie-pin on his superbly knotted tie! Settling down to gigantic Cuban sandwiches made with spicy chorizo (Spanish sausages full of paprika), we found ourselves packing most of them to take home. We could not resist ordering the Cuban Flan, though, a delicious caramel custard, and replete with our superb lunch, we were sorry to leave this enclave of Old Havana behind us. Indeed Versailles was the hotbed of political activity at the time of the controversial Elian Gonzalez case of a few years ago and we could see why. In that atmosphere of great food and stuffed wallets, it was easy to play politics and air opinions. Leaving the air-conditioned coolness of the restaurant behind us with its take-out bakery section featuring some irresistible pastries including the famous guava puffs, we drove off to see the famed South Beach.

 

Finding parking was the most challenging part of our afternoon and we were pleased to finally see a municipal lot that offered reasonable rates. The streets were packed with vacationers, most of whom were rowdy students letting their hair down during Spring Break. We walked on the sands of the famous beach, taking in the large groups of volley ball players who attracted many onlookers. Though the sands were packed to capacity with sunbathers, the water was still too chilly for a dip.

When we’d lingered long enough on the beach, we began our exploration of South Beach’s well-known Art Deco buildings that line the promenade creating a very unique environment indeed (right). Designed and built during the 1920s and 30s, these low buildings, each no more than three storeys tall, make a uniform row of structures with distinctive decorative features. The overhangs or ‘eyebrows’ that separate one floor from the next, the portholes that scream of Miami’s nautical history, the etched glass swing doors featuring pelicans and flamingoes, the Moorish style Mediterranean arches that adorn doorways and windows, gives these buildings a decidedly turn-of-the-century look. Each one bears a classy name such as the Carlyle, the Edison, the Cavalier, the Colony, the Breakwater, the Leslie, the Cardozo, the Adrian, etc. and carries interesting friezes on its façade. As design and decorating trends change, the colors of the buildings reflect them.  The fashion today for soft, quiet tones is seen in the pale shades chosen for front facades.

One of the most frequented of the buildings is the one outside which Italian designer Gianni Versace was murdered a few years ago by a deranged admirer. Scores of tourists posed for pictures on the infamous steps upon which his lifeless body sprawled (left). Today, the building has been turned into an exclusive private club and the guard has a hard time keeping onlookers at bay. The ground floor of each building plays host to a trendy restaurant today, most of which were packed to capacity at dinner time, offering excellent rates on cocktails during early happy hours and a selection of mouthwatering seafood for dinner. Deciding to postpone our own meal to a later hour, we hopped back in our car to explore America’s wealthiest suburb arriving at the famed Coral Gables, a short drive later.

If St. Augustine reflects the handiwork of Henry Flagler and Palm Beach the genius of Addison Mizner, then Coral Gables is the show piece of George Merrick who designed it to accommodate the most prosperous businessmen of the south. A drive around the suburb takes the visitor into an insulated world of more Old Money seen in the immaculate Spanish haciendas hidden behind sprucely trimmed hedges. Driving around was one of the most frustrating parts of our vacation experiences as the suburb follows no grid but meanders its way in a woefully arbitrary fashion. What’s worse is that street signs are concealed at inexplicable angles  in the grass of well-manicured lawns making visual access almost impossible. After stumbling our way through the same streets repeatedly, we gave up, and decided instead to look for the famous hotel called The Biltmore (above) whose tower was designed in imitation of Seville’s La Giralda in Spain. Immense on the outside, we were advised not to miss the interiors and decided to have a drink at one of its bars. We discovered, however, that having seen The Breakers, the Biltmore’s lobby really paled into insignificance. A quick wander later, we were back in our car, heading towards the Miracle Mile where some of the best-known names in the retail business have their enticing showrooms. Indeed, on exploring this street, it seemed as it if we had reached Bridal Central for every second store featured bridal gowns and dresses for the wedding party! Restaurants featuring exotic ethnic cuisine also made their frequent appearance in the midst of large chain stores such as Starbucks and Barnes and Noble.
Hungry by this point in time and eager for sustenance, we decided to have dinner at Miami’s most famous restaurant, Joe’s, where the attraction is the stone crab. Unique crustaceans these, stone crabs are fished out of the waters around Miami; but it is only their claws that are consumed. Once fishermen twist the two front pincers out, they toss the crab back into the water as this species has the ingenious ability to regenerate itself and create new claws. Upon arrival at Joe’s, we found the restaurant overflowing with patrons. Since it accepts no reservations, we were forced to wait for over an hour and decided instead to enjoy Cuba’s most famous cocktail, the Mojito, at the bar where we perched on tall stools to wait.  That was when we discovered we could have smaller portions of the restaurant’s dinner menu while seated at the bar. Over excellent Stone Crab Claws served with spicy mustard sauce and Crab Cakes served with Tartar Sauce, we had ourselves a delicious meal and eliminated the wait. A short while later, we inched our way back to South Beach to see the Art Deco buildings in their late night avatar when the neon lighting on the facades gave them an altogether magical air. Then, we were back on the road nosing towards Dania Beach for the night.

 

Bon Voyage!