Paradise Revisited

When I think about the ideal vacation, this is not the one that comes to mind

Have you ever been talking with someone and they say they were born in the wrong century? Or they start trying to convince you that they were a prince or princess in a former lifetime? Ya, I hate them too. But, I gotta tell you, I really think I might have been born in the wrong time zone.

You see, I absolutely hate getting up in the morning. I stay up late, wasting time watching movies or whatever, so getting up before noon is a recurring problem. It was while on vacation in Hawaii that I realized I just might have been born in the wrong place. Having been born in the Midwest of the USA, five time zones ahead of Hawaii, it dawned on me that getting up at noon Midwest time is the same as 7 AM Hawaii time. I would have been a productive member of society had I just been born in Hawaii. Mind blown!

I love going to Hawaii. Even though it’s a pain in the ass to get there( for me anyway ), since it’s a 10 or 11 hour flight. Because of the long flight, I can usually convince anyone going with me to stay for two weeks, mitigating the toll the trip over and back takes on the body. But chose your travel companions carefully, because going to paradise with the wrong person, is worse than going to hell with your best friend.

Oh, you probably thought I was referring to the people I would pick to go on vacation with. Nope. I was referring to having me as a companion on your vacation.

The vacation started well enough. We make it a habit to book flights with a layover in San Francisco or LA. That way we get off the plane and walk around the airport to stretch our legs. I can’t tell you how much better I feel when we finally get to Hawaii.

The people I was traveling with this trip was my wonderful stepdaughter, my wife, her cousin and cousin’s husband, and their son. First island stop, Oahu. This was many years ago, so I don’t really remember much about what we did, but we almost always went to Hanauma Bay for snorkeling, the Polynesian cultural center on the north shore, and Chinatown for the food and the ambience. Since my wife and stepdaughter had lived in Hawaii for four years in the sixties, we also visited many of the places familiar to them. My stepdaughter had to return home for work after the first week, so it was onto the next island stop, the Big island of Hawaii.

We started out in Kona, staying at a rental condo. Toured the town, and the next day started a road trip around the southern coast of the Big island, stopping at tourist sites like coffee plantations, and breweries, and quaint little towns for shave ice. We were working our way around the coast before we would stop that night at the Volcano House Hotel. A historic hotel on the edge of a active volcano.

The car the five of us were in was rented by my wife’s nephew, so he was the one driving. I desperately wanted to drive the car. Not just because that was what I did for my livelihood, but because it would allow me to focus on something other than his father reading every road sign we passed to me out loud, just in case I wasn’t paying attention. So every time we made a stop I would beg for the keys. He finally got sick of refusing me and just as we were coming around the southern most tip of the island we stopped for another tourist site and he gave me the keys. Next stop, Black Sand Beach.

Black Sand Beach is black because, you guessed it, it’s ground up lava from the volcano. Naturally ground lava from centuries before, now looking like a dreamscape of black sand and blue surf. Giant sea turtles sunning themselves on the beach, just out of reach of the surf breaking on the shoreline. Truly, one of the few places on earth to see this. We spent a good hour just standing with our mouths agape. Then heading back to the car, our mouths were once again agape when I discovered that I had lost the car keys. I hadn’t driven but 20 miles, stopped once, and now I was the most hated person on the trip.

We looked in every pocket, every crevice, under the car, around the car, inside the service building, around the service building, down the beach, up the beach, and then decided to call the rental car company and have them bring another key. They weren’t very helpful. After waiting for the rental company to come up with some solution, we continued searching for the key, eventually deciding that it had been picked up by an enterprising thief that was waiting for us to abandon the car so they could pounce. That gave us a new idea. We called the rental company and told them that unless they came up with a solution, we were abandoning the car and hitching a ride back to town, some 50 miles away.

That seemed to galvanize them to action. They said they would be sending a locksmith out to get us going. This was when it hit me that it was Easter weekend and any help was quite a ways away. So we searched some more.

The only thing that brought any levity to the situation at all, was since all five of us were walking the grounds staring down, every time a tour bus would stop to let the mostly asian passengers out, they would follow us around, also staring at the ground. The beautiful beach was right there. But we had a bunch of tourists following us around, staring at the ground until being herded back on the bus. Just in time for another bus to arrive and repeat the exercise.

Eventually the very nice locksmith arrived and baled us out of the problem, to the tune of $250. for two duplicate keys. I payed the money, but was not allowed to have a key, or to drive the rest of the trip. Oh well, at least I didn’t have to pay close attention to any road signs, as I was back to having them read to me.

We got to the Volcano House very late. It was great but we had no time to eat or enjoy the grounds as it was already dark before we arrived. The next day we did go into the volcano park, and then headed for Hilo. Hilo is a great little town on the north side of Kilauea volcano. We stayed at a nice family run motel and went touring the town and farmers market. We also visited the Happy Cat Cafe where it’s said all the filets are declawed. Not my first choice because all I want to eat when I’m in Hawaii is Loco Moco. Loco Moco is a local dish that has rice on the bottom, then either a hamburger patty, or if you’re lucky Kaluha Pork. Then a sunny side up egg and some gravy, either hamburger or pork.

My wife is a great cook and can make Loco Moco just like you get in Hawaii. If I’m a good boy, and don’t lose things that don’t belong to me, sometimes she will make it for me, if I beg the right way.