Thanksgiving Leftovers in Honolulu

I wake up on Friday morning in Waikiki, hear the noise of the city works, police, transportation and medical rescue workers hard at work and recall that a hike was promised by a friend. This is our last day on Oahu, so we really should make it special. There will be plenty of leftovers later as there was a 22 lb turkey and lots of side dishes for just eight people. Food? No problem.

It's time for coffee. Our hotel room coffee is worse than bad tea. Starbucks is two blocks away; isn't it always these days? As ubiquitous as ABC Stores in Waikiki, they thrive for a reason: You get what you need and the quality is pretty consistent. Besides, wifi is free there and the music selection is actually pretty interesting.

Then, time to dress for a hike. In Hawaii, most if not all trails have exposed roots criss-crossing the path and if there has been rain, there will be sticky mud. I wear hiking sandals, but old running shoes would be good, too. The air is pretty humid in every Hawaiian forest I've been in. I've heard an old saying, "Horses sweat, men perspire and women glow." I sweat. Like a faucet. Which may be too much information, but it's just to say I need to bring along a chamois cloth or bandanna and a water bottle for even a moderate simple hike. All set, off we go, in a good mood, ready for adventure.

We join two young hikers, residents here, and then drive with them up the Pali Hwy, turning to drive on the old beautiful, vine-enshrouded roadway that served as the pali road until the freeway was built. Not far up the road is a trailhead where we stop. We are heading for Ginger Jackass Pond if no other reason than to find out why in the world it got its name. This is not too far up the road from the Queen's Summer Palace, and there are many toney homes in the neighborhood.

We begin the walk on the undulating pretty trail that wends its way through bamboo, Norfolk Island pine and tropical forest growths. There are vines hanging from the towering trees near the trail. The men do their Tarzan moves to varying degrees of success. Soon, we cross an unnamed stream, stepping from boulder to boulder, go up a short climb, loop around through more forest areas, hear a lawnmower and realize civilization is very close at hand. Soon after that, we begin to hear water again. This is a 1.5 mile hike at best and would be considered more a walk, but we are all pleased with it; it's very pretty. The sound of water leads us to a small pond where a man and his two young boys are fishing. The little stream flows down some slick rocks, forming a waterfall into the pond.

The young'uns get into the pond, splash about, declare it chilly but refreshing, and get out. We poke around and rest, but get on our way again. Too soon, the hike is over, and I am drenched in "glow." We consider some options. The Pali Lookout is up the road. We might as well go up there to have a look.

Normally, the lookout is a wall of wind that wrenches jackets, purses and wigs off visitors, but today it is merely a spectacular view overlook with gentle puffs of breeze. (Oddly enough, we would later hear that that very same day had proven to be deadly as a heavy storm squall had hit the north shore and torn the roof off a school building.) There are a smattering of clouds over the distant hills, it's a fine view, and we get a satisfying look at it.

Then, it's time for the girls to go shopping. We are all smiles; this is going to be fun. The menfolk need down time, so it works out nicely. Off we go to the Ala Moana Shopping Center, leaving the males to lie about lazily for the afternoon. Well, the mall has essentially become a giant magnet for the entire population of Hawaii. It is thronged with what seems like half a million people. It's Black Friday after all, and no one is left at home except our men who want nothing to do with it. Probably, it was a wise choice.

We get our minds made up. It's my choice to go to Victoria's Secret and then we'll cruise to some other places. It takes the merest second to see that VS is the destination for what seems like all females who have come to the mall. They're all here right now, examining bras and panties with keen expressions, as if they are TSA inspectors looking for bombs. Photographs of pouting, perfect, 16-year-old models in nearly nothing glow from high on all the walls. The store is lace, pink-on-pink, with "Pink" written on everything, as if you didn't already get it. Techno music thumps. Breasts are big business. As if you didn't already get it...

A young saleswoman says hello, whips out her measuring tape, corners me with a confident gaze, and measures me before God and all present. It would do absolutely no good to protest; she uses her measuring tape as a cowboy uses a lariat to rope his cattle. Shall I moo? I find a few items to try on, and jostle my way to the dressing rooms. There are lines there, but the staff make short work of anyone who is undecided or who needs assistance, rushing away to find more delicates to try on. Their hard work pays off; I buy several items and leave feeling well served if not a little lighter in the pocket book.

Fresh air feels good. It has begun raining, but no one in Hawaii ever takes that as a sign to get under cover. It always seems to stop quickly and never cools off much anyway. (Sometimes it rains with no clouds visible overhead, the rain blown in on the trade winds from makai way where the air is cooler and more turbulent.) Day is now evening. We have shuffled with the crowds past the 200 or more shops in the giant mall and wish we had more time to fondle the clothing in the expensive stores. But the menfolk will rendezvous with us again, phoning and texting frequently as they approach the mall. They are bringing food; where are we meeting; when will we be there; where should they park, etc. The plan is to have a picnic of leftovers at the park across the street. Everyone is glad to eat, recharge batteries and settle down after the crowds and cross-town transportation exasperation. We're better now.

After a some small talk, it's time for a movie at Ward Center. We have to drive a short way from the beach and find a place to park. The theater is monstrous, could hold thousands, all told, has stadium-sized screens and comfortable seats. I buy pineapple chunks to snack on during the movie. It seems right somehow, pineapple at a Hawaiian movie theater, watching a movie set in India. We watch The Life of Pi, a movie I find interesting and visually very beautiful.

Now the day is done, our stay in Waikiki has come to an end. Aloha oi. We say our good-byes, give and receive warm embraces, and then we depart, even though I hate to go for many reasons. Tomorrow, Kauai, the Garden Isle, awaits us.

From the Oahu Coast Back to The Groove

The Manoa Valley was stormy and windy, with rain coming down in pattering showers all night and a cool 67 degrees.  I set off for Honolulu early in the morning to explore for a little while before turning my car in and then going to the airport.

First of all, I had to have my cuppa Joe, so I tried out Great Harvest Bakery in the financial district, right across the street from the Hawaii Electric Company along a narrow lane.  The bakery is a cheery place that gives out large samples of their loaves, sells scones, sweet rolls and other delectables as well as coffee to go or eat in.  There are only four stools that line the window, and the counter is decorated with painted tin pots stuffed with bright pink cosmos daisies.  Baked goods were voted "Best Bread" in 2008 by the Honolulu Advertiser readers.  I think I agree, although Manoa's bakery around behind the Safeway store is running a close race with them.  Both require determined searching.

The air was filled with whisping, backlighted drizzles and rainbows arched across the sky.  Clouds were scudding overhead and sheets of gray rain in the distance over by Diamond Head looked dark, cold, wintry.  Scooting along the Ala Moana Boulevard, I decided to explore the large park that goes by the same name.  Its right across from gigantic Ala Moana Shopping Center, the country's largest outdoor mall.

The park is very large and part of it juts out beyond the boat harbor.  Joggers and walkers were out in number, as were a few locals fishing off the rocks and bantering in pidgin.  I needed to walk after my scone and cappucino, so I joined in the flow of energetic people getting their morning constitutional.  The city was to my right and Waikiki was way off to my left, as was the again-approaching storm.  No one looked to be deterred by the oncoming shower and the air temperature was warming actually.  Shirtsleeves and sandals were fine.  I think the looping course that took me along the perimeter of the main part of the park was about a mile around, maybe a bit less, all flat.  The views of the city were really nice; I appreciated the new vantage point.

I found the local swimmin' hole, a much better place than Queen's Beach for serious swimmers; Ala Moana is much more protected, much bigger and is lined by a very mildly sloping beach.  Next trip, I'll be in there.  Surprisingly, I never got in the water once the whole week, save a little ankle-sloshing walk once or twice.

My walk finished just before the shower hit.  I drove back to town and said a fond farewell to the cute little Mini Cooper that had been a zippy conveyance for my explorations.  The convertible top was useful on warmer, slower days.  I rented it from Little Hawaii car rentals, by the way.

It was very difficult to say good-bye to Oahu and its people.  I really hated to go for many reasons.  I'll go back; I'll return many times.  The ocean is so big there and so alluring.  The island seems simply to be a hopscotch point for those of us who are so often in a water-sport-loving groove.  Now I'm back in Pacific Grove and curious to see what comes next.  I'll let you know.