I have found my home.
Warm, sunny weather all year long. White sandy beaches and clear blue waves. Pineapple-coconut-flavored everything. Friendly, smiling people. Fragrant, colorful flowers. Palm trees. Chocolate covered macadamia nuts. Warm, sunny weather all year long.
I must move here immediately. Did I mention the warm, sunny weather all year long? Dictionary.com defines paradise as: “a place of extreme beauty, delight, or happiness”. Yep, sounds like Hawaii. Or how about the second definition: “heaven, as the final abode of the righteous”. I’m telling you, I belong here.
Paradise.
We spent all of our time in Hawaii on the beautiful island of Oahu (I realize that using adjectives while describing Hawaii makes my sentences redundant). Our first stop was bustling Waikiki, where we stayed at the landmark Royal Hawaiian Hotel, also known as the Pink Palace.
This was a great place to wake up to on Christmas morning. But rather than spend our holiday morning opening gifts and enjoying brunch, we caught some waves in an outrigger canoe! Cowabunga!!
Now that was fun!
And rather than enjoy a roast goose for dinner, we went to a luau! The entertainment was spectacular:
Oh, wait a minute. That was the boys trying to learn the hula. Not so spectacular. The real dancers were amazing and demonstrated a wide variety of traditional dances, even dancing with FIRE! You’ll have to trust me on this, because the photos are lousy, but the show was award-worthy.
The streets of Waikiki were filled with happy tourists and happy salespeople trying to sell tacky junk to all the happy tourists. We were also accosted by hawkers trying to sell us manicures, cocktails, or a few hours in the local indoor gun firing range. This was odd. Little pamphlets carried photos and descriptions of all the different guns we could fire. Here’s what’s even odder. The pamphlets were typically printed in Japanese. In fact, I had to specifically ask for one of the pamphlets, because none of the vendors ever spontaneously gave one to me — they only gave them to Japanese tourists. I’m guessing that most American tourists already have their own private arsenals and can fire off a few rounds any time they want, but the Japanese must have a harder time gaining access to weaponry, so they go on vacation to pump some bullets into a target. I told you this was odd.
The Hawaiian language has only 12 letters, most of which are vowels, making words very hard to pronounce for the non-natives. But I especially liked this consonant-defying street name:
And anyone old enough for a 50/50 tour will recognize this Waikiki street name:
The Hawaiian language seems to be missing the letter “d”. This explains why the frosty treat enjoyed by many is called a “Shave Ice”. We ignored the questionable grammar and visited Island Snow, a local spot visited by President Obama in a quiet town opposite Waikiki. The President and family were in Hawaii the same time we were, though they didn’t invite us over for a beach picnic. Anyway, authentic Shave Ice is delectable. The ice is fluffy and delicate, then coated with sweet syrup. Truly authentic Shave Ice is actually little strange — the bottom of the cup is filled with Azuki beans, which are like small kidney beans, then a scoop of vanilla ice cream, then the ice, then syrup, then a dollop of condensed milk on top! Wow! Pretty amazing, though a few of the beans go a long way. At Island Snow, we opted for the “Snowbama” — simple, shaved ice topped with lemon lime, cherry, and guava syrup. Very tasty, and supposedly preferred by the President himself.
Later in the trip, we visited Matsumoto’s Shave Ice on the North Shore of Oahu. Now we’re talking authentic! This place has been in business for 60 years and serves 1,000 customers on a good day!
In addition to shave ice, we gorged ourselves on chocolate covered macadamia nuts, pina coladas (minus the rum, thank you), and a yummy local coconut pudding called haupia.
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We plunged underwater for a memorable day of snorkeling at Hanama Bay. The fish posed nicely for their 12-year-old photographer. The fish were likely a bit perplexed when said photographer dropped her camera to the sea floor. Thankfully, after several harrowing, panic-filled moments, the photographer’s intrepid mother was able to spot the camera. With a burst of energy that kicked off a flipper and nearly busted a lung, said mother retrieved the camera from Neptune’s clutches. After that feat, I am seriously considering a career in pearl diving.
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Hawaii was admitted to the Union in August, 1959 — just a year before Bill and I were admitted. In my view, this was one of the most brilliant moves our government has ever made. Some of the things you hear about Hawaii are actually true. For instance, Hawaiian shirts are really big in Hawaii.
And people really do wave their hands in that funny gesture that is supposed to “indicate a spirit of friendship” or perhaps tell you to “hang loose”. I’ve even seen the President give it. I think the true meaning is “this has no true meaning but it allows me to gloat about the fact that I have been to Hawaii”. Even Santa gives the sign.
I’ve described plenty of good things about Hawaii. Now the bad things — um, let’s see. There are no bad things about Hawaii. Oh, wait a minute — I did get a blister on my toe from wearing my sandals. So I had to go barefoot.
Before leaving Waikiki, we tried the latest water activity craze: SUP — stand up paddle board. The kids got the hang of this right away. Bill and I had a little more difficulty, only because those same obnoxious kids found it hysterical to tip the board while their parents were attempting to SUP.
As much as we truly enjoyed the craziness of Waikiki, we left it behind for the tranquil beaches of Oahu’s North Shore. We passed through fields of pineapples and stopped for some tasty treats at a Dole plantation.
Turtle Bay was an absolute dream. The hotel is situated between two bays; one with calm waves, a sandy beach, and easy snorkeling. The other bay was filled with brave surfers riding enormous waves. I was surprised at how entertaining it was to watch the surfers — hours passed as we marveled at their skill maneuvering their boards and avoiding the rocky shoreline.
We were exhausted from all the hard work at Turtle Bay, and had to spend many hours recovering.
We covered plenty of territory on Oahu, traveling on H1, H2, and H3 plus highways 72, 80, 83, and 99. The larger highways are not called interstates in Hawaii, can you imagine? We had only one incident along the way, as we were preparing to leave the glorious paradise. Things got a little ugly, but I won’t go into the details. Suffice to say that certain members of our group were reluctant to leave. They were induced onto the plane only by following a trail of chocolate covered macadamia nuts and being told repeatedly that yes, we would definitely return. Soon.
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As we landed in Honolulu, we witnessed a remarkable event that reminded us once again of how important the men and women of the military are to our country. On the many flights I’ve ever taken, one thing is guaranteed: when the flight lands, the flight attendants will beg the passengers to “stay seated until the plane arrives at the gate and the captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign”. This never happens. The passengers always leap out of their seats as soon as the wheels touch the ground. Most have gathered their bags and are standing in the aisle well before the captain turns off that seat belt sign. Guaranteed.
Not this time. As we approached the landing, the flight attendant told us that a couple of service members were on board, heading to Hawaii for some rest and relaxation during a break from their service in Iraq. She asked us to remain seated so the service members could exit the aircraft first. No one moved a muscle. No one. Everyone sat patiently and politely, then applauded and cheered as the service members gathered their bags and left the plane ahead of all others. It had been a long flight, and we were all anxious to hit the beach. But no one on the plane would argue that the service members deserved our courtesy — and our deepest gratitude.
24. Hawaii
A surfer at Turtle Bay