When you grow up in small towns I think it’s pretty much inevitable that you will forever be drawn to small little places while travelling because they remind you of home. It’s a city mouse / country mouse thing. Also, if you’re a little strange like me it might also be because you’re curious to see if you can spot who it is you would have been had you stayed behind.
My tolerance for the city was up, once you can say "I'm in Waikiki" without making the words sound musical it's about time to go. So I crossed the island for the North Shore.
... this was my front yard ...
... and a little to the right was my playground, Shark's Cove.
I went snorkling twice a day here and made all kinds of colourful new friends.
Both food trucks were unnecessarily delicious.
The only competition they had in Waimea was a grocery store.
At night there wasn't much to do, except sit on the porch with your new friends and fill the silence while watching the lizards try to pick off the moths.
I think it's pretty easy to see how a girl would extend her plane ticket after one day here.