HANA, Hawaii _ Hana, on the east side of the island of Maui, might not be literally a one-horse town, but it is tiny, with a population of 1,258. We saw only one horse, looking over the fence at us next to the Hasegawa General Store. The horse blinked and chewed, not much interested, then returned to mowing the verdant field, mouthful by mouthful. My friend Sarah and I stood in the sun and watched awhile.
Hana is most famous not on its own merits, but for the coastal road to it, which is a winding, unbelievably gorgeous tropical adventure of two very narrow lanes. A lot of people make the drive out, eat at one of Hana's numerous food trucks _ the main accommodation made for tourists there _ and drive back the same day. But for the kind of resounding peacefulness that can be rather evasive at a "relaxing" resort, it's a magical place for an overnight stay.
The family-owned general store, with peeling green paint and a rusting corrugated roof, celebrated a century of serving Hana back in 2010. The bulletin board outside listed local job openings, summer band camp, Tahitian classes, a "nice Maytag electric dryer" for sale and much, much more. Inside, under not-too-glaring fluorescent tubes, was every necessity. We picked up a couple cold tallboys of beer and some apple bananas (Sarah, who grew up on Kauai, said I would love these, and she was correct _ smaller, firmer, more tart, like a Granny Smith found a way to make sweet love to a mainland banana, producing these joyous offspring). The man in front of us in line was buying one large-sized bolt and the nut to go with it. "I think you have a package," the cashier said to him, disappearing for a minute to go check. "You don't have a package," she said, returning.
