A Return to the Coffee Shack

   On Sunday evening Peter texted Sandra, who has apparently proven to be the more reliable correspondent, to say that he and Marla would not be joining us for snorkeling on Monday morning.  Sandra had been fighting a losing battle with her laptop for a day and a half.  Thus exhausted, she was relieved that the obligation had evaporated.

The author prepares to dine in the splendor of Old Hawaii

   I had other ideas.  During all this quarantining, we have not been to a single restaurant.  No loco moco at the BIG, no phad Thai and no Coffee Shack.  Just that afternoon, as I checked the traps, I found that the Coffee Shack was re-opening.  The nice people suggested that you call in advance to "put your name on the list" and thus assist in social distancing, limiting the crowd outside the door of this popular breakfast spot.  Although my sweetie was happy not to have to swim and entertain the following morning, she was willing to go to breakfast.

    As suggested, I called before we headed down to Kealakekua, only to be told that there was nobody there.  When we arrived at 8 AM, there were only two tables occupied, and we were the only ones seated in the Old Hawaii room, right by window with the killer view of Kealakekua Bay, Honaunau and all the way south to Ho'okena.

A view from Napo'opo'o to Ho'okena.  Only thing missing is a rainbow.

   At this point one might recall our last visit to this spectacular little breakfast place.  We were enjoying the company of Bob and Kim Hillis and thought we would stop for breakfast before heading south to City of Refuge.  Sandra somehow walked past the line of people outside the door and into
the Old Hawaii room, was greeted and seated by the waitress.  The three of us followed her and took our seats.  An uncomfortable five minutes elapsed following which there was some interrogation culminating with us being asked to leave.  Oh the humanity.

That was 8 AM pre-epidemic and this was 8 AM on the first of June.  Suffice it to say, there was no wait to be seated.  Breakfast was spectacular with an omelet, a cinnamon roll and Kona coffee.  As always the portions were so large that despite splitting a breakfast, we couldn't finish.  If there was a down side, it was a little creepy sitting in that lovely room, now reduced to four tables, all by ourselves.

La pièce de résistance !

    But we didn't let the solitary nature of our dining get us down.  We reveled in the spectacular view and Sandra left a dab of frosting on the windowsill for the house gecko. On the way home we drove past Kahalu'u, where the conditions were perfect.  We'll get back to the fish soon enough.

   Where ever you are, we wish you well.  The Big Island of Hawaii remains the safest place on the planet with no active cases.  The tourists will be here pretty soon at which time it will be no cinnamon roll for us.

jeff