We're up at 5:30 for our 9:30 Aloha Air flight out of Oakland. We've been critical of the Left Coast highway signage over the past few days and the airport versions don't change our minds, as we get marginally lost on the way to the airport, but rally and make it in time for an hour or so of People TV in the terminal before departure.
Aloha Air was quite nice, although the fact that the flight was 1/2 full probably enhanced the service level. We arrive in Paradise to overcast rainy weather, reminiscent of my first visit to Oahu in '82 when the worst hurricane in 50 years struck the island the day after my arrival. Anyone out there planning on a Hawaiian trip should check my travel plans before booking, if you get my drift.
Our taxi ride to the Royal Hawaiian takes 40 minutes longer and $15 more because of a traffic accident. Whereas our taxi driver in San Francisco turned off the timing mechanism on his meter while we waited for a funeral procession to pass, I swear our Hawaiian hack was secretly pumping up the meter by some hidden Rube Goldberg foot pedal device-thingy.
The hotel is fantastic, a low-rise 1920's oasis in a forest of modern high rise ugliness. I realize the oasis-forest analogy doesn't quite work here, but I couldn't think of anything tall in a desert or isolated and unique in a forest. But digression runs rampant.
After checking in (they give you a wet towel to refresh with while you check in. Every hotel in Asia does the same thing, including the Palace on Wheels as you return to the train each evening), we went in search of nourishment, finding it at Cheeseburger in Paradise, washed down with Mexican beer.
This was a good burger, although not the best I've had. That would be the day before, in Napa, after our Coppola tour. Our wine tasting guide suggested the grill across the highway where we could get a good burger "for a decent price". The burger (topped with three pieces of Canadian bacon, a chipotle BBQ sauce and a heap of sharp cheddar) was the best ever, the price ($14) was indecent.
Back at the hotel, we hung out on the balcony (sorry, that would be the lanai) and watched the vignettes unfold before our tired eyes on the beach below.
We watched the Holstein Sisters change from swim suits to sun dresses under cover of blankets (thank god) and then pirouette like cartoon cows in front of the sunset while being photographed.We watched a guy about 30 yards out in the ocean, nipple-deep in the water, doing breast strokes for three hours, creating concentric circles around him and giving him the nick-name "Mr. C"
To bed by 10:30 (that would be 12:30 our body time, unless of course you assume we're still on East Coast Time [which we probably are, since we've had very little time to adjust], in which case it would be 3:30 AM). You have to be impressed by my use of parentheses here.
Aloha Air was quite nice, although the fact that the flight was 1/2 full probably enhanced the service level. We arrive in Paradise to overcast rainy weather, reminiscent of my first visit to Oahu in '82 when the worst hurricane in 50 years struck the island the day after my arrival. Anyone out there planning on a Hawaiian trip should check my travel plans before booking, if you get my drift.
Our taxi ride to the Royal Hawaiian takes 40 minutes longer and $15 more because of a traffic accident. Whereas our taxi driver in San Francisco turned off the timing mechanism on his meter while we waited for a funeral procession to pass, I swear our Hawaiian hack was secretly pumping up the meter by some hidden Rube Goldberg foot pedal device-thingy.
The hotel is fantastic, a low-rise 1920's oasis in a forest of modern high rise ugliness. I realize the oasis-forest analogy doesn't quite work here, but I couldn't think of anything tall in a desert or isolated and unique in a forest. But digression runs rampant.
After checking in (they give you a wet towel to refresh with while you check in. Every hotel in Asia does the same thing, including the Palace on Wheels as you return to the train each evening), we went in search of nourishment, finding it at Cheeseburger in Paradise, washed down with Mexican beer.
This was a good burger, although not the best I've had. That would be the day before, in Napa, after our Coppola tour. Our wine tasting guide suggested the grill across the highway where we could get a good burger "for a decent price". The burger (topped with three pieces of Canadian bacon, a chipotle BBQ sauce and a heap of sharp cheddar) was the best ever, the price ($14) was indecent.
Back at the hotel, we hung out on the balcony (sorry, that would be the lanai) and watched the vignettes unfold before our tired eyes on the beach below.
We watched the Holstein Sisters change from swim suits to sun dresses under cover of blankets (thank god) and then pirouette like cartoon cows in front of the sunset while being photographed.We watched a guy about 30 yards out in the ocean, nipple-deep in the water, doing breast strokes for three hours, creating concentric circles around him and giving him the nick-name "Mr. C"
To bed by 10:30 (that would be 12:30 our body time, unless of course you assume we're still on East Coast Time [which we probably are, since we've had very little time to adjust], in which case it would be 3:30 AM). You have to be impressed by my use of parentheses here.
No comments:
Post a Comment