Only in Hilo by Hawaiian Hips If you're planning a trip to Kona, don't forget the sun block, preferably 100 SPF. But if Hilo is on your travel itinerary, pack the sun block with your flip flops and hand carry an umbrella, strong and sturdy as a power lifter's legs. You'll need it. Touted as The Rainiest City in the United States, Hilo also boasts raindrops the size of golf balls, perhaps a tad smaller, certainly a lot heavier. For that reason, many visitors to the Big Island fast forward over to the leeward side disregarding Hilo altogether. Too bad. With a population of 47,000, Hilo has managed to preserve its distinct small-town feel. Even Hawai'i County's Mayor Harry Kim can be seen in Hilo, whether it's in his office or at a town meeting, wearing blue jeans. Unlike Honolulu, where canoe clubs have had to store and lock their canoes, Hilo canoe clubs still leave ther canoes on the shore of the bay; and when thousands do flock to Hilo for its annual Merrie Monarch Festival each spring, the pace remains slow and friendly. Lush and tropical, the scenery is breathtaking. Majestic Mauna Kea, snow-capped part of the year, provides a spectacular backdrop; and tranquil Hilo Bay, lined with over 200 coconut trees, welcomes kama'aina (local) and malihini (visitor) alike. Nicknamed the Orchid Isle, the Big Island grows and exports some of the most beautiful orchids, tropical flowers, and native plants throughout the world. In fact, everything grows abundantly on the Big Island, Hilo in particular. Neighbors often share mango, banana, guava, lychee, pineapple, passion fruit, papaya, and avocado from their backyards. Or, to earn some cash, they sell it at the Hilo Farmer's Market on Kamehameha Avenue fronting Hilo Bay. Open on Wednesdays and Saturdays, the market has everything from fresh fish, fruit and flowers to sweetbread, smoothies, and strung-by-hand leis. About a two-mile hop, skip, and jump from the farmer's market is the beautifully landscaped Lili'uokalani Gardens named after Hawaii's last monarch, the beloved Queen Lili'iuokani. The stroll along Banyan Drive past the garden is also worth taking. Named for the banyan trees that shade the road, Banyan Drive has many trees planted by Hilo socialites of the 1930s and several planted by some of our nation's most legendary figures, including film director Cecil B. DeMille, pilot Amelia Earhart, and Yankee slugger George Herman "Babe" Ruth. According to the sign at the base of the huge banyan in front of the Hilo Hawaiian Hotel, the Great Bambino planted it on October 28, 1933. Another I-gotta-see-before-I-return-home-to-my-nine-to-five-job attraction is the newly opened 'Imiloa Astronomy Center. Architecturally designed to replicate the island's three principal volcanic mountains--Mauna Kea, Mauna Loa, and Hualalai--the 'Imiloa houses a 120-seat planetarium and an array of exhibits. And if you have a car, try spotting the rainbow at Rainbow Falls below Boiling Pots; Namaste, the white Bengal tiger at The Panaewa Zoo, the country's only natural tropical zoo; and Hawaiian honey roasted macadamias at the Mauna Loa Macadamia Factory. I dare you to resist Mauna Loa's free straight-from-the-factory samples of macadamia nut treats. For the adventurous, dine with the locals. Try Cafe 100's loco moco--a beef patty on a bed of rice topped with a sunny-side egg and smothered in gravy, or haupia syrup on a sumo-size stack of banana pancakes at Ken's House of Pancakes where their motto is "ono grinds any time," or a kim chee burger and a rainbow ice shave at Itsu's Fishing Supply. That's right, Itsu's Fishing Supply. (Only Hiloans call a snow cone ice shave; everyone else in the islands calls it shave ice.) Locals born and raised in Hilo usually speak Hawaii's unofficial language dubbed Hawaiian Creole English by linguists, pidgin by locals. It's a little tricky, so here are a few tips from the lips of Hawaiian Hips: When you ask for more of that delicious haupia syrup and the waitress says, "Chry wait," she isn't challenging you; she means, "One moment please." And should you take your rental car to Chika Nakano's, maybe the only service station in the state that still services cars when filling up the tank, and the attendant asks, "Eh brah, soopah or regulah?"--don't panic. Just reply with a smile, not a smirk, and say, "Regular, thank you." Then as you fly over the canoes at Hilo Bay with your umbrella packed away for another trip, remember: only in Hilo. |
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