Our guide, a young guy with a Tampa-type tan, told us not to touch their sensitive eyes or ears. I reached out to touch the first dolphin that swam up and noticed his back felt like a soft rubber tire. He was calm and floated near the surface of the water as we checked out his long rows of short but sharp teeth and then held his nose for a photo opp. For the next thirty minutes our guide instructed us to make certain slapping and hand movements which signaled for the dolphin to do flips, flap its tail, swim in spirals, laugh (yes, really laugh), and jump high up out of the water. We were all smiles and googly-eyed and it was worth the extra cost to purchase photos and a DVD video of the experience.
A trip to Hawaii wouldn’t be complete without golf, at least that’s what my boyfriend with a seven handicap thought. So we played the Mauna Lani South course set between mansions, volcanic rock, and the coastline. With seventy-five degree weather, delicately groomed greens, and newfound respect from my boyfriend after my ninety-one round, I thought the day couldn’t have gotten any better. But it did—we returned to the Fairmont for deep tissue massages, a dip in the hot tub, dinner under the stars, and lots of spooning.
On our last day we opted to explore the other side of the island, the wet side, and drive to Waipi’o Valley, known for its tropical vegetation, hiking trails and cascading waterfalls. From the lookout point we saw cliffs, a black-sand beach and aggressive waves. We descended down a steep road as surfers in SUVs passed us and waved. We chilled on the beach for a while, feeling completely tranquil, and imagined what it would be like to live in such a mellow environment. Then we hiked back up to our car, blared music on our drive back to the hotel, and watched the sunset from our balcony.
