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Wednesday 5 November 2008

turtles and green sand


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Big Island brings its lot of surprises. On the south coast, we make a detour to stroke the black sand of the Panu'ulu beach. But today, peaceful denizens besieged the place, 4 green turtles lounge. An intimate moment and a noticeable chance to see them so close after observing them underwater many times. With a terrible effort, contrasting with their graceful swimming, they heave themselves up onto the beach. The bottom of their shell and their feet leave a furrow into the dark sand. Exhausted, they let their heavy head freely go to one side and don't pay attention at the onlookers who came to marvel at.

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I don't want to leave any longer but Cho and Hé would like to discover the south point of the island which is also the southernmost tip of the USA. After several pictures, we park our Jeep and walk eastwards. Three quarters of an hour to get to a beach. But why walking such a time to see a strip of sand while magnificent crescents scatter all around the island ? Because this beach is special, made of olivine crystals for most of it. And far from the common colours of a common beach, here, the sand is... green! I collect a handful of this precious blend and make the particles shimmer in the sun and no doubt, it's really green! However, the state forbids the sand-collectors to draw this precious jewel, it will cost a 500$ fine. We spread out our towels on this greenish ground and carry on perplexedly watching at this weird sand.

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Sunday 2 November 2008

When the Kilauea volcano expresses itself

I change island to complete the kaleidoscope of discoveries of the Hawaiian archipelago. I get to the largest of them, the island of Hawaii. To avoid the mix-up with the archipelago or state name, it was rechristened without great originality, The Big Island. This emerged land is a mixture of superlatives, geological quirks and visual pleasures. Thinking that on an island hardly larger than Corsica, we can find the most active volcano in the world where its lava pours into the ocean for over 20 years increasing the area with more than 150 hectares and making of Big Island, the youngest land on earth; to that, another volcano, the Mauna Loa, is the tallest mountain in the world if we take into account its base nestled in the abyssal depths ; and to complete the list, on this volcanic outcrop, we can find 11 out of the 13 climatic areas which govern the planet, the largest telescope in the world, turtles that linger on black sand or even a green sand beach we can lay down a towel on...
I meet again my friend Cho and his girlfriend who have rented a Jeep Wrangler for these few days. Without waiting, we dash towards the volcanoes national park to eyewitness the damages caused by the Kilauea volcano, endlessly erupting from the middle of the 80's. The huge caldera where smokes leak from the bowels of the earth stretches a few steps away from the entrance. No sign of vegetation around, everything is charred. It's only in the background that ferns and scrub breakthrough the volcanic crust here and there. We take the road which goes down to the sea. Thousands of shrubs and bushes intertwine in a compact and impenetrable forest. But successive flows reshaped the local geography, such as a gigantic candle whose charcoal grey paraffin would have melted on the scenery. Down the valley, the road fades, the hardened lava covered the tar mac, we get off the car to step on this cracking ground, an end-of-the-world illusion where the Earth won the game against the human being.

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In some places, the lava shaped tunnels it's possible to visit today. The approach blends in the surreal scenery, myriads of shrubby ferns flank the path. That's hardly believable to think that, about a hundred meters away, a desolate and still inapt for life land rises.

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We get to the other side of the park to witness the current flow which merges with the ocean, freeing a thick smoke. But for that, we must skirt the volcano because the coast road was completely ravaged by the magmatic discharge of Kilauea. En route, still-protected areas let us catch a glimpse at the kind of vegetation which decorated the land before the lava buried this ephemeral beauty.

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Before moving to another scenery, our last encounter with the volcanoes park will be a stroll within one of the calderas, the Kilauea Iki trail. An explanatory brochure makes us be aware that under this purportedly solid and stable ground, the heart is still hot and only 50 years ago, this flat and blackish expanse was bubbling in a lava lake. People got off luxury liners to enjoy it. The scientists saw an unheard-of opportunity to study the lava, the speed and way of how it solidified. We stay long minutes in the crater, a hint of supernatural for an extraordinary interlude in my traveler's life.

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Wednesday 29 October 2008

pedestrian pleasure on the Kalalau trail


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I live the scramble of Honolulu to go to Lihue, main town of the Kauai island the local people and travel agencies generally nickname the garden Isle. As soon as I get out the airport I hold my thumb up to request a helping person to stop. I cover 50 miles by hitchhiking to reach the Kee beach at the north. Impossible to go further by car, the asphalt ribbon fades at the foot of the Na Pali cliffs; the next sides and coves, it's with the strength of the calves we have to explore them. The last host, who kindly takes me at the back of his pick-up, gives pieces of advice about the trek while I fasten my backpack.
It's late in the afternoon and I won't go further than the first campsite, the Hanakapiai beach, a little bit more than one hour from the beginning of the path. The low-key and soothing place would make the camping of the south of France green with envy. I lay down my tent near the river and near the beach at the same time. A luxury I savour sitting on a rock, the eyes drown into the ocean. A wonderful sunset intertwined with oceanic rumbles and invigorating sliding of freshwater. The name of this beach comes from a upstream waterfall. A narrow path drives me to this water stream, a private show I intensely enjoy.

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I hastily take down my tent. I put again my bag onto the back and step on the red-earth track which snakes towards the heights. The Hanakapiai beach looms downhill and the cliffs, built into the volcanic rock, weave the theater of my next hours of walking. A demanding hike where the stretches of flat ground don't exist to leave a clear way to exhausting ascents and staggering and slippery descents. Clung to this wild nature, my steps carefully go ahead on the ledge of the cliff while a jaw of foam roars at its feet. More I move forward and more the coves and promontories seem to follow on endlessly.
A strip of sand shyly stands in the distance, that's Kalalau beach, final point of the trek. But, as I trudge over the last crimson-clay mound, I can't go further. I put down my backpack; the beauty of the volcanic ridges draped on the cliff gives me the sensation of flying. A torrent of colours kissed by the setting sun. a green cover tops the black rock which overlooks the surroundings. The red earth which supports my steps dies down a pebble beach, wet by an azure-blue water dotted with milky-dressed rollers. The carpet of ochre sand at the end of the path waits for me. The tiredness vanished into the air while I start again my walk on this blessed soil. I undo my shoes and finish the last meters gliding bare-feet on this damp sand.

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For three days, I live in this shangri-la with only a dozen of lucky people. An evening, the urge to sleep inside the cave is too tempting and I abandon my tent for a night to be even closer to the nature. In the morning I peer the beach, the tent disappeared! The incredibly powerful nocturnal waves overstepped the dune and swept my canvas shelter away, it finally finished its trip at the font of the cliff. Getting the tent out of the sand, rinsing it out and making it dry occupy my morning. My feet dig furrows into the ground to find the pegs. Damages are minor with a waterlogged travel guide and MP3 player out of order. These incidents don't make the happiness to be here weaken. But each moment of joy as intense and overwhelming it is collapses into a more or less painful and appaling end. In the morning of the fourth day, I restack my stuffs and start again. 6 hour of a demanding walk when I unfold the scenario in the opposite direction. As I hike out the path, I see others trekkers who enjoyed the same emotions among the Na Pali cliffs. We chat, forgetting the time. The dusk comes faster than I had imagined and homeless for the night, I settle under a table in a public park. A star-free night but spangled with colourful sequences of the marvelous Kalalau trail.

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