Wow. Talk about hiding in plain sight. How could the eternal Popoia Island have no review? The Yelp business "shell" for Popoia was just sitting there, while everybody just walked by, so to speak. I guess I've walked or swam by it a hundred times myself. I was lately out here every day when nothin' else was going on. Best place to swim at the beach. We'd drive two minutes from the beachfront house in the middle of the beach to get to the boat ramp at the south end. We could have walked along the beach in ten minutes. What the hell? We're Americans, I suppose. Gotta drive our cars and gotta search out the very sweet spots.
And so I get to do a First Review on a natural feature of Kailua. I'm so happy, I guess, though I'm nothing compared to this landscape that will be here long after all of us are gone. In this small way I will be etched into the history of this wondrous place of sand and ocean and wind and lava rock. Well here it is - a review to honor Popoia, otherwise known as Flat Island. And now people will know what to call it, if they didn't already know.
How many stars do you give something like this? What do you compare it too? How can a person be so presumptious as to "rate" a landscape, anyway? And to do it on THIS island, too. A freakin' haole, no less; but this one with breath, strangely, somehow. Not like most others.
I don't think I've ever seen a perfectly flat little island like this anywhere - even in pictures. It's so damn cute. Neva bodda anybody. Might be considered perfect, in harmony with the world. I have to give it a five star. It's as good as a flat little island can get. What do you want it to do that it doesn't do? No answer, huh? What rating would POPOIA give ME?
Lucky I have some pics from my cell phone, as I lamented returning to Cali soon, for VERY good reason as it turned out. My intuition is always good, if I listen, especially when I get the STRONG feelings. I'd been to Oahu and Molokai and Kauia for over two months and didn't want to go back to Cali. Back to the maelstrom.
When you know a place so well and it's lost its lustre. Ain't pretty any more. Sometimes I get so damn sick of the place. The Golden State going down the toilet, with most pretending that all is well. When the high-level corruption gets under your skin. When your tolerance for the bullshit has worn thin. The biggest court system in the world collapsing and the State government now a bad joke. Every day it gets just a little worse, every day. Somedays it falls down a chute, especially lately. And newcomers from BFE smiling and happy to be there 'cause they don't even comprehend what the hells goin' on. The place they came from was even worse, anyways. Welcome to California, we effed it up for ya'.
So there I was on September 22nd, 2012. Sippin' some beers in my car at the boatramp. In Oahu the coast is always there for you. Probably nowhere on the whole island is more than ten miles from the ocean. The Kailua boatramp is always there, gentle waves lappin' to shore. In other places people sit next to buildings, or a parking lot, or in a house or somethin' - where the human and fake manufactured element is always close. Insidious. But here, while I still was in a parking lot of sorts, just look at the view. So nice. Mokapu right there. Lanikai around the corner. With the Ko'olau mountains just behind. And the peaceful people milling around just doing their own thing, not wanting anything from anyone. Just doin' what they do, just as I was. Never had a bad vibe on this island, not from a local.
Sad that I would miss the Blue Angels and the Kaneohe Air Show by two days that I so wanted to see this year. I was in a relationship that was just wrong in so many ways, and just had to end, while it had been hanging on and dying a slow death for too long. It was to end so soon anyway, but unfortunately in such a tragic way. But I am a survivor, as I have now proved again.
Brought on by Popoia, this is somwhat of a personal ode to Oahu, and to my life, and to my connection with the islands from coming back time after time after time. Having come here too many times, but not enough. A place that draws you if you have the will to come. To make the personal sacrifice of disrupting your life "back home", that so few are willing to do. But it's an ode that doesn't rhyme. 'Cause that's just how nature is. Mahalo. read more