Get the most from Maui

Kwok W Wan discovers the truth behind Maui's heavenly Hawaiian image, while riding on a boogie board.

I finish my fourth can of Red Bull and stumble out of my beat up rent-a-car, draped in an itchy blanket. It's 4.30am, freezing and I'm standing in a car park situated at the top of a volcano with hundreds of other people.

I've not slept for 36 hours; I can't stop shivering and according to my guidebook, I'm at the most beautiful place in Maui.

Flying over Maui, the signs are promising: an immaculate island sits like an emerald on an endless blue velvet cloth.

But Hawaii's second island must be one of the most over-hyped and over-developed holiday destinations in the world. Holiday brochures and TV shows promise golden beaches and perfect palm trees. I'm vaguely concerned over-expectation will burden my ability to enjoy myself?

The famous Halekala volcano summit is about four hours drive from our hotel and an all-nighter is necessary to catch sunrise. I don't mind. I am pumped for the promised "out of this world experience," and looking forward to getting away from the neon lights and asphalt.

But the weight of expectation only serves to disappoint. The road up the volcano is topped and tailed with cars and tour buses. The car park is already packed and full of people loitering aimlessly.

Perhaps the sight of sunrise would turn things around. Maybe we could have a good collective experience, with the dawn over Maui rendering us humble in the magnificence of the moment?

The sun finally breaks. For a second the crowds hush and we all look toward the light. I stand and stare, but the weather lets us down. Low lying clouds block everything, even the gigantic crater in front of us.

Bad weather is just unlucky. Ugly human construction isn't. Our hotel is in Kihei, a postcard-perfect beach ruined by the careless smash and grab of parking lots, fast food joints and tacky buildings.

Other resorts, such as Ka'anapali to the north, follow the same drive-thru mentality, except these super hotels are bigger and richer. I have to negotiate parking attendants and hotel staff before getting to an overcrowded sea front, only to be confronted with a massive shopping centre. There must be better ways to enjoy Maui than this.

The things that will never disappoint in Maui are the wild abundances of nature, the sculpted coastlines and the original settlements. The oldest town, a historical Polynesian whaling port called Lahaina, has a paint-flaking rustic charm.

Most of the original wooden buildings have been turned into souvenir shops but it retains its authentic maritime feel and sea-battered look. We lunch in a posh burger hut called "Cheeseburger in Paradise" and the grand ocean view from our table goes a long way to justifying the outlandish claim.

The natural richness is even more evident in the water. Molokini is an extinct volcano, just off the coast of Maui, and boats regularly leave from nearby Ma'alnea Harbour.

"The reason this is such a good place for diving is that the crescent shape of the volcano protects the wildlife from strong currents," the captain tells me. He has sun-baked skin and is already mixing Mai Tai cocktails.

The water around Molokini is so clear you get vertigo looking down. All around are a blur of multicoloured marine life and wild reef formations. Deep below, large flat turtles coast on invisible currents, and disappear into the darkness. We toast the captain as he sails us back to port.

Maui is known for its beaches and they are spectacular. I visit Makena Beach, known as 'The Beach' by residents. The sand is piled into sweeping ridges and monstrous Hawaiian surf rolls in, smashing into the shore.

You can see them approaching from miles out, like endless herds of whales. Many locals surf here and they stand proudly atop their surfboards, riding the howling curls.

'The Beach' is perfectly framed by a dramatic roll of green lush mountains and has a deserted tranquillity.

Hundreds of smaller beaches line the west of the island and it is here you capture the true spirit of Maui. Whilst lying on the sand in Napili, I notice a ten-year-old boy staring intently into the sea.

He studies the ocean, eyes darting, trying to pick up the smallest movement. Then he pounces, launching himself into the water, throwing the down the body board and riding the surf, swerving up and down and up again, until the wave grinds to nothing beneath him.

He returns to the water's edge and starts staring again. I think to myself, I could do that. How hard could it be?

In my first few attempts I wipe out, spin over and sometimes just sink. I notice the kids are starting to stare at me. I stand up, making sure they know how tall I am compared to them.

Then I try again. And again. I end up scratching my knees on the sand, stubbing my toes on rocks and even hitting myself in the face with the board. My skin is getting wrinkled from the water and my mouth dry from all the salt water I've swallowed.

Then it happens. I catch a wave. By sheer luck, I am body boarding. I'm riding a wave and feel like my whole being is flying. I am one with the ocean, lord and master of the sea. The actual time I ride the wave must have been only a few seconds but it's a feeling I will not forget.

I go back to the beach, tired and satisfied. The sun is bringing blood back to my cheeks and I feel like I'm glowing.

On the plane home, I see the island as a perfect green jewel again. Sometimes Maui doesn't seem like the paradise people promise. But I choose to remember it like this: I look past the clouds and can see an assorted treasures trove, waiting to be dived into, surfed and experienced.

Kwok W Wan