NYT

HAWAII ON A DIME

. . . IN spite of its extravagant spectacle, Kauai feels intimate. The
towns on its ring road are small, and as that road nears an end on
the island’s north side, it shrinks to cute, single-lane bridges over
inlets and streams.
It was out there, just past the town of Hanalei and a few miles
from the highway’s terminus at the Na Pali Cliffs, that Jean and I
were staying, at the Kalalau B & B’s $75-a-night “Jungalow,”
which we imagined was hidden away somewhere in the forest.
Not quite. The Jungalow was a small, charming, tin-roofed,
bamboo-paneled shack that Mark Pearson, the Long Island-born
proprietor, had built in the backyard of his house in a tidy little
subdevelopment. As with Lucky Farm, we had access to a
panoply of beach gear, plus an outdoor shower, a hot tub,
fruit-heavy breakfasts (an extra $10 each) and Mr. Pearson’s 16
years of experience on Kauai.