Hawaii, pt. 1

So, it’s been a damn long time since I’ve left anything up here…funny how my postings seem to coincide with time off from school. With any luck, after the bar next year you’ll either read me a lot more regularly or not at all. All depends on where I end up working.

Anyway, a little back story: Brooke is a rock star at work and Uncle Well’s and Auntie Fargo take care of those nieces and nephews that rock. She was deemed worthy of a Golden Spoke Award and granted a free-ish pass to Maui for a week. Why free-ish and not free? Well, because WF only paid for Tuesday-Saturday…of a holiday week. So, those of us that saw the opportunity to make Memorial Day memorable, did…and left Saturday morning for what can only be described as self-guided, self-financed Paradisic pre-game to the freeness that will come Tuesday. You’ve been prefaced…let’s roll.

So, after 18 hours and three connections worth of travel, we arrived in Maui. My first thought was that it was more humid than I expected it to be. I, of course, based my pre-conceptions of Hawaii on the best resource any sibling could call upon: my older brother and his comment years ago that Hawaii was like Florida without the humidity. Not true, I’ve since discovered…It’s more like an ocean-side Scottsdale. Yes, it’s not as overbearingly muggy as Florida. But it’s still tropic. It’s just more temperate than awful awful FL.

Regardless of all that, I learned an invaluable lesson the day after our arrival: always pack underwear. You see, I didn’t. I packed every other thing you could imagine…I even asked Brooke where she had packed hers because I hadn’t seen it as I was loading my gear into our bag. Yet, I totally spaced it. My initial thought was to roll G.I. Joe for the week but I realized how impossible that was going to be (I have fancy-ish dinners to attend with Brooke and, though it’s not explicitly stated, underwear is clearly going to be required). So we hit up a CVS clone (Long’s Drug, for you California readers) and was delighted and aghast that they carry the make and mode of undies I wear…to the tune of $11 for a pair! So, you know, I bought a lifetime supply…

Also, today, we flew from Maui to Kona, on the Big Island. Even with a stop in Honolulu, it was still less that 2 hours from start to finish…the only highlight of this stint of the trip was the swarthy, heavy-set stewardess who did two things of note: first, she made herself bloody marys in the galley and, second, at the stop in Honolulu, she had a long discussion with a pilot from a different puddle-jumper about how she’d heard, that, like, you know, like, he was, like, something of a, like, player and not at all serious about the women he dated. Neither of these things were confidence inducing, of course, but we arrived safe and sound in Kona nonetheless.

Our first order of business was to collect the convertible that Brooke required for this portion of our trip. Even though she has always professed a hatred for drop-tops (something to do with messing up her hair), we had to have one for Kona. Unfortunately, when we went to pick it up, they could find our reservations. After much typing and wrinkling of brows, it was determined that our reservation had been made in Hilo, three hours away. Luckily, it was on the same island and not a problem to fix.

It’s important to note something about the culture at this point (and it’s something that many a tourism guide book has already noted): people here are damned friendly. Not just the people you give your money to in exchange for services (what I’ll call ‘resort friendly’), but everyone. It seems if you make eye contact with a perfect stranger on the street, you are required to smile and say hello or good day. Coming most recently from Boston, where you do your best not to make eye contact for fear of being solicited by ‘Chuggers’ it was a bit unnerving at first (big ups to my friend, Chris in the UK for introducing the term chuggers to me on my last visit – a chugger is a ‘charity mugger’). But I have to say that I’ve really taken to it. One of my biggest complaints about Beantown has been how rude and inconsiderate people can be there, native and tourist alike. Hawaii is a refreshing dose of politeness and consideration…

Ok, enough for one session. Stay tuned for tales of body surfing disasters, Mauna Kea sunsets and inappropriate conversations with midwesterners...