Hawaii Day 1

Spring has always been a good time for me. Not only does it mean that winter is finally over, but my birthday’s in April (which for me has always meant taking some vacation time) and I usually have some money coming in from different places that I can play with.

For starters, my year-end bonus from Cox was twice as much as it usually was. I put half of it towards paying my home owner association fees for the rest of the year. But instead of saving the rest for next year, I decided to finally get a new computer through Cox’s employee purchase deal with Dell. I’ve wanted a new machine for years now. My old one just won’t play nice with any new software or new devices. This new machine has the just launched Windows Vista and already has internet software loaded onto it. Sweet.

Then there’s the tax refund which was also bigger this year than last. I put some of this money away for next year’s HOA fees and bought myself a truly nifty photo printer. But what to do with the remainder of the money? I could put it away for a new car. My car is an ancient POS and does need to be replaced before it explodes. But … no. I could put it towards the mortgages or the credit card. Nah. After some calculating and research, I made my decision. I would give a very charitable contribution to the good people of www.expedia.com and their friends, United Airways and the fine state of Hawaii.

I’ve sorely needed a vacation for quite a while now. I didn’t do any real traveling last year so I knew I had to get out of the state this year. I’d thought about going back to England (I’m really addicted to those stamps in the passport!). But then, during one of my frequent bouts of pretend time on the aforementioned travel website in January, I found that flights to Hawaii were particularly low. Prices are usually around$800-1100 for a round trip ticket. I found a flight for the low price of $513. Oh yeah. I pounced on it.

After some more research, both online and at the bookstore (Oahu Revealed by Andrew Doughty and Harriett Friedman was invaluable – color pictures, frank descriptions, and maps), I found a hotel that offered a special Deal with Wheels rate. $90 a night for a room and a car rental. Technically, you don’t need a car on Oahu but the book recommended it and after being there, I completely understand why.

So, by the end of February my trip was all set. Good thing too because my nerves were getting more frayed with each passing day. I hate Atlanta. The traffic, the sprawl, the ridiculous amount of pollen. Work was nuts, I felt the pressing need for change and I have no idea what to do about it. All of these distractions barely left me time to feel excited about the trip. My co-worker, Kathlene, was kind enough to remind me … and everyone else she happened to talk to. She helped me focus on what I wanted to do when I got there and what I needed to do to prepare. I appreciated that.

April rolled in and the weather, which had been warm for a couple of weeks, suddenly turned cold. My last week before vacation had me shivering and practically pulling my hair out. Fortunately, Friday the 13th was my birthday and I took the day off. I went out to breakfast (I do love the IHOP), did some last minute shopping for the trip, and went to the Dogwood Festival in Piedmont Park. I haven’t been to this annual festival of art, greasy food and dog shows in a couple of years. It’s always a nice way to spend a day in the park and it’s a good thing I did go on Friday. It was the last really nice day before the rainy weekend. I spent the time indoors, packing for the trip and doing some final cleaning.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Monday morning meant show time; up early and off to MARTA. I had made arrangements for a pet sitter to come by twice that week to look after the cats, water the plants, and bring in the mail. I was a little wary about giving my keys to a strange person and letting them know that I would be out of town. Practically like I was telling them to just back a moving van up and steal all my stuff (not that I have that much of value to begin with). But the company I found is fully bonded and the sitter seemed like a nice woman. And, I reminded myself, people hired sitters all the time. Better someone from a legitimate company than a neighbor or kid off the street.

It takes an hour to get to the airport from MARTA. Thanks to my bloodsucking credit card company I had some rewards points stashed up that I decided to cash in. I exchanged a bunch of them for a $100 gift certificate from Circuit City with which I bought one of those new-fangled MP3 players that I’ve been hearing so much about. My love train with technology continues as Creative Zen I bought is wonderful. I listened to it during the trip and tried to get myself into vacation mode.

The lines for security have not gotten much better at the airport. The one I had to enter at 8 am was wrapped around the corner. It moved quickly though and this was one of the rare occasions that I was scheduled to leave from the T Concourse. This meant that I didn’t have to take the train to my gate, saving me a lot of time. I grabbed some breakfast and waited for my 10:03 flight.

I officially hate United. I wasn’t too fond of them when I flew to Cali a few years ago and my opinion has just been lowered. I knew they skimped on legroom but, since that last trip, they seem to have gotten the memo that there are some travelers who are taller than 5’5’’. For the low, low price of $135 you can get bumped to the special business class where your legs won’t get crushed into your chest. The offer was made when I checked in but I was not eager to pay these people any more money. Their method of getting back at me for being cheap was to not feed me. That’s right. Over the course of 3 flights on the same airline, the only thing these cheap bastards would feed me is a lousy bag of pretzels – which I never ate because I hate pretzels. Oh, the people in first class still get fed, but for the sardines in the back they offer a selection of snack boxes for $5 a piece – cash only and correct change please. You must be mad.

The good thing, though, about being on the same airline for all flights is that when you get off one plane, your next gate is not very far away. The bad thing … well … this could actually happen on any airline but I’m still going to blame United. The two hour flight from Atlanta to Chicago went quickly. The Chicago to LAX (4 hours) and LAX to Honolulu (6 hours) flights were different stories. There were screaming kids on each flight, the idiot sky-waiter on the plane to HI practically threw pretzels at me and then tried to crush my legs with the tray table, and I couldn’t get any sleep. Can you tell I still wasn’t quite in the vacation mode?

The interesting thing on the last flight was that the staff started to say ‘Aloha’ and ‘Mahalo’ (thank you) and we played a game to prepare for Hawaii. The attendants passed out little cards and as the captain gave us info on speed, distance and time, the passengers had to guess the time we’d reach the mid-point in the flight down to the second. I was close at 4:47:23 but no cigar. The winner won a gift basket for Hilo Hattie, a very prominent chain store in Hawaii.

About a half hour before we landed in Honolulu, the noisy kid in the next row finally fell asleep. Of course. I trudged off the airplane to a rather unimpressive terminal. It was small and most of it looked to be under construction. It was nice though that between the terminal and the baggage claim, you have to walk through this covered but open-air walkway. You get your first taste of the balmy Hawaiian nights and then you get the official greeting.

I know. It’s not as good as a lei and a kiss from a buff native man but it’s still nice.

I grab my bag and head outside to wait for the shuttle. Boy, am I punchy. It may be 8 pm in Hawaii but my body says it’s 2 am and way past sleepy-nappy time. At the Dollar counter, the woman tells me that since the hotel is paying for the car, all I’d have to do is bring back the voucher they’d give me when I checked out. She also tells me that for $20 more per day I can upgrade to a convertible. The Jeep Wrangler they offer is actually more my speed. I’ve always loved that vehicle. It just seems exciting and adventurous. But … Hawaii is expensive enough with any extra ‘perks’ so I ask her not to tempt me. I instead head off for the 2007 gray Toyota Corolla (which is the sensible car that in my more logical moments I plan on purchasing – except in the non-sensible color of red).

New, unfamiliar car; at night; in a strange city; when I’m half-dead. Oh yeah. This should be fun. Thanks to Kathlene I had mapquested the directions to the hotel from the airport and tried to consult them while I maneuvered my way onto the road. I got on H-1, the major highway and direct route to Waikiki, and realized that despite being thousands of miles away from the mainland, I was still in the US. There were the same green road signs and the same occasional rude driver. Other than the really unfamiliar street names (Kalihi, Nuuanu, Liliha) it was just like home. And there was something else familiar. When I finally figured out how to turn on the radio I found that it was tuned to a hip-hop/R&B station that sounded just like the station I listen to here, even down to the same Beat the Buzzer contest. Granted, instead of fielding calls from people named Lequicha the names leaned more towards Lelani and instead of Maverick, the local DJ, I was listening to someone called ‘Island Boy’. The homogenization of America continues.

Okay, where the hell am I? I managed to make the right exit but I think I missed my turn. No, can’t turn there, that’s a one way street. That sign says Keeaumoku. Boy, that’s a funny name. And it’s also not where I’m supposed to be. Great.

After a few wrong turns I finally got to Kalakaua Street. From there I just had to turn left onto Paoakalani … and there it went. I was a little too busy taking it all in; the pedestrians, the lit tiki torches, the stores, the palm trees, the lights! Now I’m getting excited. It’s all so much!

I circle around and find the hotel. There’s no parking on the street. There are spaces, of course, but they are all taken. After a couple more circles, I spot the entrance for valet parking at the Ocean Resort Hotel Waikiki www.oceanresort.com). Whew. I got here and I didn’t hit anyone or have a head-on collision (there are a lot of one way streets and jay-walking pedestrians). Dropped off the car, checked in, and dragged my body up to the twelfth floor. My room is at the very end of the hall. Opening the door, I immediately see that my balcony door is open and gives me a great view of the lights of Waikiki. There are hotels to either side of me and what appears to be a school across the street. In the distance to the right is Diamond Head, which at this time of night is just a dark hulk.

After acquainting myself with the small bedroom with its twin beds, small fridge and safe, I quickly got ready for bed and settled in. I’d had a really long day and I wanted to be as fresh as I could for my first day in paradise.