Door Number 8: Scenes from O'ahu: Waikiki (Part One)

Royal Hawaiian Hotel. My guide books says: "Occupies 10 acres of land in a former coconut grove where Kamehameha V built a summer cottage in the 1870's." One of Waikiki's two historic hotels. Opened 1927.

This time last year (and the year before), I was in Honolulu (on O'ahu, Hawaii's most populous island) where I spent some weeks in Waikiki--a place that once supported only fish ponds, taro patches, and rice paddies but, of course, now features high-rise accommodations, surf boards, and convenience stores with shell necklaces, fridge magnets, and macadamia nuts. Dry-roasted, honey-roasted, chocolate-covered. This was not really a vacation--though it was obviously a very pleasant place to be. I thought of it more as "a health stay." A time to get away from the ice, snow, and debilitating cold that characterize winter in my part of the country.

In picking a destination, I was quite systematic. I wanted plenty of sunshine but not insufferable heat and humidity as I found in Bali one year. I wanted a flat enough terrain to get in some good walking since walking around my home territory in winter can be dicey (read "icy") and elicit cold-weather-onset asthma. Since I'd be on my own, I wanted a big enough population base to provide museums and cultural events. Plus a good bus system so that I wouldn't have the added expense of renting a car. Honolulu seemed the answer. 77º weather. Trade winds. A top-notch bus system free to seniors after paying an initial $30 for a long-term bus pass. And an organization where I could (and did) tutor English as a foreign language on an individual basis. (My students were from South Korea, Taiwan, and the Truk Islands.)

You can walk along here for a good long stretch--Waikiki's Kuhio Beach Park on Kalakaua Avenue.

Evening at Kuhio Beach

Thinking it too touristy, I hadn't actually planned on staying in Waikiki itself but found that the only non-Waikiki hotels were upscale resorts that charged a kazillion dollars a night. (And Waikiki condos were easier to find.) Waikiki is, of course, part of Honolulu--the part that borders the beach just near Diamond Head. Since it's only 2 miles long by maybe a half mile wide, I found I could walk it in a couple of hours. Or, if I got worn out, I could hop on a bus (free with my pass) and ride the few blocks back to where I was living.

A few of the older hotels remain.

Smack in the middle of Waikiki on Kalakaua Avenue.

I donned straw hat and sunscreen and went on several constitutionals a day. I explored, took photos, people watched. Those in Aloha shirts carrying a ukulele were going off to a class. Those with sandy feet bopped across the street from the beach for a Big Mac. Not resorting to over-sized T-shirts and cargo shorts, the Japanese male tourists looked trim and neat in clothes that actually fit. And the Japanese women seemed particularly charming in pretty shoes, belts, filmy fashions, and designer hair cuts or even a simple hair ribbon.

I joined the Waikiki Community Center and took hula classes which I found befuddling but fun. (Everyone else had been at it for weeks.) I checked out the latest laptops at the Apple store. I bought papaya and strawberry non-dairy smoothies at Ruffage. I got take-out barbecued Korean pork at one of the (mostly Asian) food stalls ... shopped for groceries at the Food Pantry where a half dozen eggs cost $3.09 and tea bags something like $8 a box ... and (besides the take-outs) lived on yogurt, guava juice, rice cakes, nut butter, and bananas.

I had no luck finding a New Yorker, however.
"Do you sell The New Yorker?"
"The what?"
"The New Yorker."
"The Squire?"
"The New Yorker. I guess you don't ..."

Statue of Duke Kahanamoku, "Father of Surfing," Kuhio Beach. (Duke was his first name, not a title.)

The open-air International Market Place occupies a city block.

The stalls there feature anything from this sort of jewelry to funky key chains, candles, and Aloha skirts to wear to your hula dance class.

The Waikiki Aquarium is situated on the beach at Kapiolani Park just below Diamond Head.

And the Honolulu Zoo is just across the street.

And then around 6 p.m.--no hat this time--I liked to walk out my door and head for the beach. It only took seven minutes to reach the wide-open Pacific where I joined the parade of people at Fort DeRussy Beach Park--all of us there to witness The Big Show. Some stood out on the sand, looking west, cameras ready. Some sat on a low wall near one of the outdoor eateries where a singer crooned Time After Time. Others simply kept up a slow pace. Then ... as if watching the Mothership coming to take us away, everyone stopped, faced the same direction, and gazed out to sea, mesmerized, as the bright orange ball gradually lowered, touched the horizon, and then slipped away ... gone. No gloaming here--by the time I got back to my abode, it was night.