In which we eventually visit the Byodo-In

More trip photos.

The day after we got in, we intended to visit Hanauma Bay. By the time we reached Hanauma Bay, the place couldn't be seen for a thick fog of spray-on sunscreen and cars encrusted with snorkels and inflatable rings. Instead, we headed up the coast to … somewhere. Some bay or beach or chunk of water. My husband had something in mind, but we kept getting thwarted by Marine base gates, signs which were labeled when one drove in one direction but not the other, blocked off streets, and in one horrible instance, an entire neighborhood of dumpy zombies carrying lawn chairs to a parade.

We drove forever, it seemed like. When I'm part of that sort of aimless driving around, I get testy and unpleasant. Let's just say that if I had to choose between driving around aimlessly and driving an ice pick through my skull, I'd choose the driving. However, I'd have to THINK about it first. The situation wasn't my husband's fault, precisely, but I made sure he was aware of my displeasure.

Thinking to please me, he pulled in at some state park or other. What the hell? Where was the water? Why were there wild chickens wandering around and what appeared to be a couple engaged in a drug deal? Okay. He drove a little further down the road and found a park with WATER. I think it claimed to be a beach, which totally set me off. "Where's the sand? Why are there ROCKS and BOATS here? You know, this is the kind of crap they pull in freaking Texas, digging a big muddy hole in the ground, lining it with huge sharp rocks, and calling it a BEACH. And then idiots run around in motor boats, flipping beer cans and fish hooks over the side and claiming it's FUN. Personally, I think they're on CRACK. Didn't we move AWAY FROM TEXAS?!"

On we drove. He did eventually find a big lovely beach with real sand and a backdrop of beautiful mountains, but I was fit to be tied by then, past caring. While he and the boy changed into their swimsuits, I stomped around and muttered hateful things about towels and ice chests.

(If this all sounds a tad passive-aggressive of me, it's because it was.)




Well, I guess my husband hasn't known me thirty years for nothing. I wouldn't say that he doesn't take my moods seriously, but he knows that they'll pass, and if he interacts with me in the meantime, he runs the risk of having his head bitten off. Thus, he very wisely made no comment and left to my own devices while he got in the water with the boy. I ignored the fact that it looked as though they were having lots of fun and I spent some quality time glaring at the sand.

The island in the background of this photo is called Chinaman's Hat.



After awhile, I saw things skittering about in the sand. Tiny crabs. They were the same color as the sand, all but invisible unless you sat there motionless and tricked them into moving. If a person or a wave came near, they'd quickly skitter into holes beneath the beach.

Just like that, everything was okay. I no longer hated the world. I crept closer to the water, started wading, and then rain started pounding down. I do love a good rain, and it was the most incredible thing, wading and swimming with the rain coming down all around us.




I don't know what this creature is. It washed up and appeared distressed, so I forced myself to pick it up (bleah!) and throw it back in the water. Maybe someday a creature with gills will return the favor.


After the swim, we headed back down the road to the Valley of the Temples. I'd subconsciously expected that it would involve a trip to the middle of nowhere. Instead, it was smack dab in the middle of civilization. I was kind of disappointed.



Essentially the Valley of the Temples is a big, high dollar cemetery with temples/chapels for all sorts of religions. There were quite a few live people visiting, sharing their lunch hours with the dead people.

Why did I want to go to a glorified cemetery, you may ask? This is why:



This is the Byodo-In Temple, a replica of a 950 year old temple in Japan. The original was about six times larger, the one in Hawaii was built without nails, and blah blah blah.

It's only temple/cemetary I've ever been to which had a gift shop.



Another view.



There's a large Buddha inside. Given that it's a Buddhist temple, that probably isn't a huge surprise. This isn't a very good photo of Mr. Buddha, but I felt uncomfortable taking more than one. It felt as though … I don't know. None of this religious business mattered to me, but it mattered to someone, and what ill have Buddhists ever done me? Far less than those in the faith I grew up in, that's for sure! Why should I go stomping all over their temple conspicuously clicking away at their Buddha?

That kind of thing happened quite a bit this trip, not taking photos because it didn't feel right for one reason or another. That's okay. Not every darned thing in life has to be photographed, you know?



A detail on one of the roofs. Gosh, I do love the telephoto lens on the Canon T2i my husband gave me.



Vegetation growing from the roof of another structure on the grounds. Those sorts of details make me quiver with joy.



A Buddha on the grounds.



Hum. What's it like if I crop the picture a little differently? I'm not sure which I prefer.




Here's a view from the McDonald's across the way. Can you imagine manning the drive-through and having this view? You'd still be at a sucky job, but you'd be at a lousy job in beautiful surroundings!



After all of this business, we headed back to the house through a tunnel in the mountain, the Tetsuo Hirano Tunnel. It's about a mile long. Our kid was asleep and we didn't want him to miss it, so I took some nausea-inducing video:



That, I think, is enough for one blog post.