Like A Bad Day In Bognor

I actually love the Hawaiian Islands. Not for the surf and the sandy beaches, but for the people – they are so impendent and proud. Once you move away from the super touristy spots, it’s hard to feel that you are in one of the 50 states.

The north side of the island is beautiful, rustic and unspoiled. As I drove, I started to look for a lunch spot. The road was spotted with stands selling coconuts, cut mango and papaya. As I turned the next bend, I saw the sight of the day. Not some rugged coastline, but shrimp ponds and parked alongside them a shrimp truck. It was nothing fancy, pretty much a large “roach coach” surrounded by cheap tables and plastic chairs. The side of the truck was adorned with photos of the dishes of the day, all shrimp from the surrounding ponds. The photo menu was a great thing because the Japanese order taker had no chance in understanding a Londoner with a slight Aussie twang that has lived in the states for way too long. I point to the “spicy shrimp”.  “It spicy,” she told me. “Got ya,” I said, as she passed the order to the cook, an old lady whom I assumed to be her mum.  The cook stared at me and mumbled something to the girl, probably, “Did you tell him they’re spicy?” I gave her the big thumbs up and a cheeky grin.

The shrimp arrived with a small salad and a scoop of sticky rice. I bit in and had some quick thoughts: “I could taste butter big time. I was lucky that it was a crap day, they never had this in Bognor, and sh*t these shrimp are spicy.”