hello hawaii
The last time Alan and I were in Hawaii was on our honeymoon fifteen years ago. Back then, at the launches of our new romance, we had the crazy idea of spending some time in a paradise camp. It wasn’t a terrible idea, and we certainly got to see some of the islands’ most spectacular attractions from scratch. However, we didn’t quite do it in the slums; We still had enough common sense to rent a car, although I remember some hairy moments at the car rental place when they asked for directions to our hotel. It took some serious negotiations and a torrent of tears for the 2,000-star hotel in Weimea Canyon to pass the test.
We were now descending from a pristine blue sky with our children Adam, Erica and Alfie getting their first excited look at what would be our tropical sanctuary for the next week.
Having little trouble with our direction this time around, it wasn’t long before we were headed to our hotel in Waikiki in our extremely comfortable rental Chevy Tahoe LTZ with flower leis around our necks and the hooked Lau in our hearts. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the hotel was conveniently located at the intersection of seventh heaven and cloud nine.
This was actually our first time in Honolulu, having opted for the smaller islands of Kauai and Maui on our previous visit. We were into our bathing suits before you could say Papahnaumokukea, and the next thing Alan and I were sipping mai tais on Waikiki beach while our hyperactive brood discharged its batteries in the impossibly turquoise ocean. There is nothing wrong with this image, let me say without fear of contradiction. Especially considering it was mid-December and we were unlikely to be in urgent need of ice picks, snow tires, or balaclavas.
By the time the glorious warm evening rolled around, we had taken leisure to new levels and single-handedly redefined what relaxation means. With the children comatose due to their repeated attempts to mimic the relentless movement of the Energizer bunny, we are left alone and find ourselves reacquainting ourselves with the ghosts of honeymoons past.
The next morning, after a breakfast fit for Hawaiian royalty, we jumped into the Tahoe. With the mesmerizing sounds of the Kelele Brothers and their soothing ukuleles blasting from the sublime Bose premium audio system, we head to the shoreline on a holy mission to pay homage to Hawaii’s surf gods on the North Shore. I admit that the last characterization is entirely mine. Not yet true believers, my two oldest sons were more impressed to discover that their favorite TV show, LOST, is filmed on the North Shore, while little Alfie was delighted to discover that this area was the inspiration for the beach. fictional in the animated classic, Surf’s Up.
While we did a fair amount of exploring in our perfect week, including a trip to spectacular Diamond Head, a shopping expedition in Honolulu, and a visit to Pearl Harbor, for the most part it was simply a case of eat, sleep, swim. , relax – repeat at will. As we handed over the keys to our trusty Chevrolet Tahoe and boarded the plane for our winter wonderland in St. Paul, we were staunch devotees of the Hawaiian lifestyle and truly grateful to have spent a week in one of the world’s most unique places. Destinations