Now, where was I -

before I was so rudely interrupted? The last few days have been interesting, wi-fi-wise. Enough said.

So. Monday. We went south, hunting for Captain Cook's Monument. It's on our maps, but somehow we had gone right past it on the way to the volcano, without seeing the sign. So off we went. I saw on the map that the monument was at something called Kealakekua Bay, so when we saw the sign for that, we turned off the highway. Down and down and down we went, Robin driving, me trying to sit in his lap to keep from falling off the cliff. All that got me through the experience was knowing that on the way back, we would be on the other side of the road. (I can't help wondering whether I was always such a wuss, or whether old age has done that to me. I think there was a time - no. No, actually. I remember being terrified in similar situations when I was a teenager. Control issues. I'm much better if I have the steering wheel!) Eventually, we got to the bottom and found a parking lot. There were several other cars there, along with a big truck full of kayaks. Robin asked the fellows with the kayaks whether they knew how to find Captain Cook's Monument. "Sure," they said. "It's right over there." They pointed along the coast to the monument, which was about a mile away and accessible only by boat. Oy. They were just packing up to leave, because the ocean was a little too lively for the kayaks. So we stood for a few minutes and looked along the coast to the monument. I am hoping that if your computer screen is bigger than mine, you may just be able to discern the white, Jefferson Memorial-shaped object on the distant shore.

On the way down the hill, we had seen a sign pointing toward something called The Painted Church, so on the way back, we detoured up another road to see that. I wish you could have seen my face when we got there. "OMG," I said. "They've painted it white!" Robin's jaw dropped, too. Nonetheless, we

parked the car and went to check the place out. The painting referred to on the sign, we discovered, referred to the inside of the church. There were pillars painted like whimsical barber poles, and the walls were covered with murals.

St. Benedict's (for so it was called) reminded me of a mission church we visited near Tucson, AZ a few years ago.

On Tuesday, we drove over the Saddle Road again (the one we took to get to Mauna Kea.) This time, we went all the way to Hilo. I like Hilo. Dorothy Parker might have said there's some "there" there. I can't say the same for Kailua, by the way. It's rather too much like Disneyland for my liking. Hilo has beautiful parks and neighbourhoods and hostels and cafes, and no doubt rats and cockroaches, but it's real. We spent half an hour or so strolling around in this gorgeous park. An old man stopped to talk to me. He didn't seem to have any agenda. He was just friendly. I could hardly understand him, but I appreciated the gesture.

Aha. I've just looked out the window and seen Robin approaching. That's my cue to finish up here and go get some exercise. Tomorrow, I'll try to catch up on the week.