Cockroach Cove is nothing of the sort
Trip Start Jan 13, 2010
6Trip End Jan 19, 2010
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Where I stayed
Coackroach Cove, Sandy Beach
Ko Olina "Paradise Cove"
On the beach we spread ourselves out, observed some avian footprints circling a firepit, and watched a group of divers prep their tanks and set out warning buoys in the shallow but tumultuous mouth of the cove. When the sun decided to burn away a few clouds, Alex noticed some onlookers on the south side of the cove
Feeling like maybe it was best to move around a bit, we decided to slip on our shoes and go tidepooling out by the blowhole. The firerock can act as a good exfoliant, but the bubbled exterior does not make for comfortable walking without foot cover. On our mini-hike we found hundreds of small tidepools, mostly inhabited by rock crabs (shocking, I know, given that we were on rock) and small fish hiding amongst the seaweed. Finding the blowhole was more a task than we expected because it puffed blasts of steam, not water, and only every few minutes or so. When we finally came upon it, we were politely but vehemently berated by an onlooker on the vista above for getting too close. Everyone watches out for one another on the island.
Realizing our bus was a bit of a walk away, and remembering the lackadaisical adherence to the schedule, we decided to close up shop and head for Sandy Beach (Bus #23)
We found our way back down to Sandy Beach and discovered a Baja truck ready to sell some fresh rolls and tacos. We snagged a roll (with delicious cream cheese) and a chicken taco and sat on a lone bench overlooking the pristine beach and rocky shoreline. $6 later we were full, happy, and waiting for the bus. Five minutes later we were even happier to see a redbull truck in the parking lot - Alex ran across the street and got us a few sugar free cans of caffeine on the house. We watched from the bus stop as a ragged, water-logged hippie strolled up, with a red Buddha shirt in hand (where did the shank go?). As soon as he sat down the bus pulled up. I guess he's good luck after all.
Our bus ride took us by Hanauma Bay, known for it's reef, snorkeling, and crowds. It looked beautiful from above, but we were on a mission to make it to our Luau bus on time (3:30pm). Ahh yes, the wonders of public transportation. Speaking of, the final perk of the ride was watching the hippie explain to a new mother that a baby on her back might mean a smooshed baby. Not sure she appreciated his warning, but again, everyone watches out for one another on the island
Two hours later, running, showered but somehow sweaty already to the luau bus, I waved frantically to Alex in the hope that they hadn't left Hotel Ilikai without us (I had almost forgotten the camera). They didn't care. They were waiting until everyone showed up. After 40 minutes of cheesy ice breakers, we arrived at the Ko Olina resort, where Paradise Cove Luau is located.
Lei's and Mai Tais greeted us as scantily clad dancers escorted us in. Alex tried his skill at spear-throwing (neither of us stuck the target) and Hawaiian bowling. Drink tickets got us a pina colada and beer, but I was disappointed to find that mine came in a translucent plastic solo cup not the festive glass. I thought I had smiled nicely at our bartender? Although it was almost time for dinner, hypoglycemic boy needed fuel so we found him a snickers bar at the gift shop along with a wooden statue we fell in love with. We decided to hold off on the statue though, because we had heard thrifty things about the Aloha Stadium Swap Meet.
Grouchy-mc-grouchersons turned back into Alex, and we headed over for a pre-dinner show at the mini ampitheatre. The girls danced while the men lifted the pig from the fire pit and paraded it around the inner perimeter of the ampitheatre for all to see
Pre-show, I solicited help from our table to procure a fruity drink in a luau glass, which I was able to readily order once Alex shelled out $6. Drink tickets only cover the drinks inside, I should have known that cash would do the trick. The show was a colorful, rhythmic, sensual and fiery representation of local culture. All of the music was live, and the flames were real. After inviting all of the audience to dance onstage, the show came to a close (if you are wondering, Alex and I did not venture up there, we were tiiiired). We turned down the requisite $15 photo on the way out and settled into our coach bus seats ready for bed. We were briefly held awake to witness a not-so-sober rendition of Old McDonald led by our bus leader (the donkey sounds were borderline disturbing), and finally we were dropped off back in Waikiki.