Halfway along the Hana Highway the land does something unexpected: it flattens. A black lava peninsula pushes out into the Pacific, and on it sits Keanae, a Hawaiian village of taro patches, a small stone church, and a shoreline where the surf throws itself at dark rock with real violence. After miles of tunnelled jungle and blind hairpins, the sudden view of open sea and green fields is a small shock.
The peninsula was formed when late lava flows from Haleakala ran down the volcano's flank to the coast. The soil here is rich and the water plentiful, which is why the village has grown kalo, or taro, in flooded terraces for a very long time. Taro is the staple of traditional Hawaiian life, pounded into poi, and the neat patches visible from the road are one of the few places on Maui where you can see the old farming still in use. The church, built of lava stone mortared with coral, dates from the nineteenth century and is a simple, sturdy thing that has faced a great deal of weather.
The road to the peninsula is a short detour off the main highway, narrow and quiet, and worth the few minutes. There is a roadside stand near the junction with a reputation for banana bread, and you will likely see a line of people for it, which is often a good sign in a place with so few shops.
The ocean here is not for swimming. The rocks are sharp, the currents strong, and waves can surge higher than they look. Stand back from the edge and take photographs from the church lawn or the lookout. The light is best in the morning, when the sun clears the mountain behind you and the taro leaves are bright. Rain moves through quickly in this part of Maui, and the road stays slick under the trees. Take it carefully, and give the bridges the respect they deserve.