This is the story of my honeymoon, with my husband, where we figured out how to eat a papaya for the first time, and how I almost threw up on the Hana Highway.
After my husband, let’s call him, “Jeff,” got married to me, we saved and saved at our shitty jobs at a video rental store and a toy store, both of which went bankrupt later, and we went on a honeymoon to a tropical dream: Hawaii. I’ll only talk about two attractions we saw while there. Mostly because I don’t really remember it much.
“Jeff” and I decided to go to Maui. The first natural wonder we saw was Kaanapali beach, #9 on the list of top 25 beaches in the world. It’s about a 3 mile or so stretch of bright, sandy beach, perfect for surfing, or soaking up toxic rays from the sun.
When we arrived, I immediately took a boogie board and proceeded to try to “ride the waves” like a professional surfer dude.
But when I went back in, riding the waves, I stood up, and I was only surfing 2 inches of water. I’m pretty sure nobody saw though.
Suddenly, there was a thunder and lightning storm and everyone ran for cover as it rained.
But then, just as suddenly as it had arrived, about 5 minutes later, the clouds parted and a beam of sunshine shined down on the Pacific ocean.
It was God.
“Shannon…” God said, “I know you had plans to go to the Hana Highway tomorrow… I’m here to say to you: don’t go…”
I shrugged. Then Jeff and I got in the rental car and drove back to our hotel and watched cable TV until we fell asleep.
When we first arrived at the Hana Highway, I pressed my face up to the glass in our rental car and exclaimed something to Jeff like, “Look at this Jurassic Park shit!!!”
The Hana Highway is like a rainforest with a highway built through its habitat. There’s lots of stops where half a car can pull over and see a cascading waterfall or a steep canyon covered in thick plant life.
It’s a small two lane highway most of the time, with a lot of places only one car at a time can go through, such as a bridge. Do not be fooled: This road’s scary as shit.
At the end of the highway, you might expect a gorgeous natural attraction, or maybe a thriving tourist town, or a pot of gold, but no, at the end of the highway is just a couple buildings. That’s where you turn around and drive all the way back to the entrance.
On the way back, the windy road finally caught up with me. “She’s gonna blooooooow!” I kept saying over and over again, out the rolled down window, as we drove past groups of senior citizens and tourists. Jeff was driving so my nausea was even worse. (He drives bad)
Then I remembered what God said.
“Don’t go…” I recalled in a flashback.
“Jeff!” I said, “God was right! I shouldn’t have gone on the Hana Highway. He was trying to prevent me from being a freaked out cat and a barfer!”
Jeff nodded slowly.
Then, we arrived at the entrance where we’d started, and drove back to our hotel. 5 hours we drove total on the Hana Highway that day.
And guess what: I didn’t barf. It was a miracle.
That’s the thing about God, I guess.