Semi-Coherent Ramblings Of A Vagrant: Hmmmm

Being in Kona has turned out to be about as busy as being in hilo - that is to say not so much.

Don't know whats up, but I spent the better part of 6 days sitting around waiting for a call that just wasn't coming. It's all good though, since it gave me the opportunity to walk around the neighborhood.

The first place I went, naturally, was the back yard. There's not a whole lot back there except a bunch of pumice, a few small (a stalk and three leaves) banana trees, and a bush with some interesting flowers, as well as a few geckos and such.

This is the first gecko I saw, then I couldn't stop seeing them.

I found this one in the same bush as above, literally jumping from leaf to leaf.

They also enjoy the banana trees...

...and playing hide-and-seek in the old, folded-over banana leaves.

I also went walking up the street. Kaiminani Drive, the street that runs the length of the neighborhood, is fairly steep, definitely more than the standard six-percent grade, probably approaching fifteen-percent in some parts. While it left my legs a little bit more than slightly tired, it also afforded a chance to take some pictures.

From the top of the street (look at the houses at left to judge the steepness).

A group of plumeria blooms, one of thousands in the immediate area, just up the street from the house.

Later, back at the crew house, it was found that the available drinking glasses were somewhat on the small side. So small in fact, that a can of soda poured over ice would probably fill the glass twice. This presents an issue, as I've found a rum here that costs around ten dollars, and is damn near as good as Sailor Jerry (which is approximately twice the price, by the way).

A) Hana is Hawaiian for bay, so this is Bay Bay rum? B) It clearly says "...from Hawaii", yet the back says it's from Mira Loma, CA. Whatever - it'll get ya drunk! (you know that reference.)

So, with the dilemma of how to get buzzed with the minimal amount of effort, I set to work to find a solution. With a little searching, it took all of about five minutes to solve the problem.

Behold, my drinking vessel. (I'm well aware that it's a measuring cup, drinking vessel just sounds so much more awesome).

So now I can not only hold a whole can of Pepsi along with the rum, I have the capacity to hold two if I so desire. And with the convenient graduations on the side, I can see exactly how much I'm imbibing. I can also pour at least a half a bottle of rum and a smidgen of Pepsi if that's how I want to roll (note: it isn't, at least not normally).

At the grocery store's hot deli, I found I can get loco moco fairly cheap. It's not as good as getting it fresh, but it's ab out half the price, and if I'm already at the grocery store and in the mood I might as well get it there. Of course if I'm just going out for coffee and the mood strikes, I'll pay a little more to have a hot, steaming pile of loco moco right then and there.

Pictured: a hot steaming pile.

I know the pic isn't great, makes it look quite possibly like the most unappetizing thing you've recently seen, but I promise you: it is awesome. Before you denounce it, I ask only that you have at least a bite or two first. It's not hard to make if you want to try to DIY it: all you need is rice, brown gravy, an over-easy egg, and some kind of protein (a hamburger patty is the standard, but you can use pork, fish (I've had mahimahi in it and it's awesome), chicken (either actual meat or even breaded patties), etc.), etc. Assembly is simplistic, nigh easier than assembling Ikea furniture - rice, protein, egg, gravy. Done. This is even better with a little hot sauce.

the vog finally cleared enough for me to get some better, clearer pictures from the deck of the Kona crew house. For those too lazy to look it up, vog is the resultant of sulfur dioxide (among other things) reacting to water in the atmosphere in the presence of sunlight. It's not unlike smog in appearance, though I've found it no where near as irritating or dirty.

You can clearly/more easily see the beach in the background.

The view is far better, sans vog.

Even the view from the airport is better. (note: the next land mass this direction I think is the Philippines, about five-thousand miles away).

I have found, with the help of a local, what is quite possibly the best pho place I've ever been too. It's called Bale (pronounced ball-lee), and like all awesome restaurants, it's not much to look at. But they do right by pho standards: on the side is plenty of basil and bean sprouts, with a little lime slice, and a few jalapeno slices. A little (or a lot) of hoisin and sriracha (or chili oil if you preffer) and you got yourself some damn good souo. My only complaint about their pho is that they don't have my favorite kind; the combination type containing meatballs, pork, beef, chicken, tripe, and tendons. I know, it sounds gross, but unless you've tried each and everyone one of those ingredients in good pho, you can just shut your world hole.

While I was writing this, something caught my eye. I looked over trying to figure it out, but couldn't immediately find it. But just as I was turning back, I saw it again, this time way up high. It was a night gecko (the little brown ones), coming down from the ceiling to look for buggies to eat. He made it all the way down to the floor, where it cautiously skittered along the crevice between the carpet and drywall. I was able to get a few pics prior to its descent, but can't really get a good pic of it at its current ground perch, and every time I try to get close it runs.