Hawaii day 1

July 24 (second time around)

By the time we landed here in Hawaii five significant events had occurred. First, we crossed the International Date Line. We started our flight from Fjii at 10:30 PM on Sunday July 24^th. We reached Honolulu at 7:00 AM on Sunday July 24^th, fourteen and a half hours earlier than when we had started out. Thus, we were destined to relive Sunday. An 8 day week lay ahead of us with two Sundays.

Second, we jumped from being 9 hours ahead of Israel to being 13 hours behind Israel. We have the rest of our trip ahead of us to now catch up with all our friends and family back home.

Third, we crossed back into the Northern Hemisphere and, in so doing, crossed from winter to summer. Not that these seasons are dramatically different in Fiji or Hawaii, day-length wise or temperature wise, but the distinction is there.

Fourth, upon landing we successfully reached our originally intended goal of visiting Hawaii (by flying east instead of west). Hawaii happens to be the 50^th state I've been to. This completes my personal list of visiting all 50 US states (how appropriate that my 50^th should be the 50^th state to join the Union) and thus fulfills another of the items on my bucket list.

Fifth, we have gone more than half way around the world; going back now would be a longer journey than continuing to go forward. Jerusalem is now to the east of us and no longer to the west of us, according to the application on my smartphone that gives me the great-circle compass direction and distance to the Western Wall in Jerusalem from wherever I am in the world.

We landed at Honolulu to see a coconut-palm-lined and landscaped golf course beside the runway and a marina nearby with turquoise waters. There was something about this introduction to Hawaii that was immediately too picture postcard perfect.

In the terminal we were greeted by the wheelchair pusher, a woman, who gratefully allowed me to push Razelle up the inclined carpet and through the special-consideration lanes. We didn't want to mess with Uncle Sam so I declared on the customs card that we had food (I didn't specify which kind). We were asked all the familiar questions I'm used to from my previous visits to the States. Then came the question, "Do you have any meat, sir"? as directly as that. I hesitated too long, then stammered, and admitted we had a kosher salami that was important to us because of Jewish dietary laws (yadda, yadda). The guy in the uniform circled meat in red on our card and stamped our passports with our entry stamps.

We then went to claim our baggage. Razelle's pusher found three of the bags while I on the other side could only find one and didn't know why it was the only one on the conveyor. I brought it to Razelle who had the other three, to my and her great relief.

Next came the moment of truth. I was again asked, "What kind of food are you bringing into the United States, sir?" I answered, "Canned tuna, peanut butter, soup powder...; then I paused." He marked the card and said, "Welcome to the United States," then let us through. That's the last checkpoint this salami will be slipping through. We will consume it in Hawaii and finally put an end to this "stealthy salami" suspense.

We were directed to the shuttle bus to the inter-island flight terminal; then we waited. By and by, a shuttle came and we were immediately aware that our driver was sitting on the left and driving on the right. It felt strange after all the time it took me to get used to the opposite pattern from Mumbai to Fiji. I wondered how long it would take me to readjust to what, before Australia, was the only way I'd ever driven.

At the domestic terminal we had our first experience with the US security routine of removing shoes. Razelle was irritated by this and I reminded her that displaying attitude would illicit attitude in greater magnitude from the security people. We were fascinated by the people who were waiting in the boarding lounge for their inter-island flights along with us. These were the first Americans we were surrounded by on their own soil. A woman sitting near us talked on her cell phone to her mother in California for an entire hour while we were there. The snack bar sold coffee in 16 and 20 ounce sized cups and offered a second cup free. To drink 40 ounces of coffee just because one could seemed unimaginable to us.

Razelle and I boarded our small plane ahead of all the other passengers because of Razelle's wheelchair status. There were perhaps 60 seats on this plane, and only one stewardess. We took off without delay and flew the length of the island chain to Hilo on the Big Island in all of 40 minutes. On the ground again, a wheelchair awaited us as usual, pushed by an elderly Oriental guy. He got us to the baggage claim and stacked our bags on another wheelchair. I thought that was a creative idea.

Leaving Razelle to watch the bags, I went to the car rental hut and listened to all the options that were offered. So many choices! I saw the car they had for me and it looked too small, so I upgraded (at extra cost), selected the most comprehensive insurance coverage and opted to refill the tank before returning it. I hoped these were wise choices, because I didn't have enough experience with this sort of thing to know better. The car they gave me was a solid black Ford Fusion – very classy. I drove it around to where Razelle was waiting with our four bags and was pleasantly surprised to discover that I could load them all into the trunk!

I switched on the GPS and it took us right to our bed and breakfast lodgings, at Aaron's Cottage, a mere 15 minutes away. We met the owner and he was so laid back and friendly we couldn't help but feel welcome. The room looked cozy and we were pleased with my choice once again. However, nothing will ever compare with the room we had in Fiji, so it wasn't fair that we compared this one to that in our minds.

I left Razelle to settle in and went looking for the Verizon store. My GPS took me straight there. I reactivated the fossil of a phone I've borrowed from my friend David each time I'd traveled to the States. I actually didn't want a Hawaiian dialing code but I was told there was no other choice.

Next, I walked two doors down and bought a SIM card for my smartphone at the T-Mobile outlet. This gave me a Hawaiian phone number for this phone too. This way Razelle and I could call each other and never again repeat those awful moments in Australia where we couldn't find each other. Lastly, again using the GPS, I drove to an AT&T outlet to purchase a wireless device like the "Dodo" I had in Australia. The cost was too much and the clerk even told me that hot spots are so pervasive in the States that this cost was probably not a necessary expense.

So, set up already within the first few hours of my first day in the United States to make calls and even do a little surfing with my smartphone, I returned to Razelle. She was hungry and eager to remedy that. We set out to find some place in Hilo to eat. My GPS again was employed to find eateries. The shopping mall with its eateries had closed at 8:00 PM and was dark when we drove up. This made no sense to us, but it was so. The Italian restaurant in the historic district of Hilo we went to was about to close so we moved on. We found a Dominoes Pizza run by a vibrant woman who had lived in "the City." She was actually referring to New York City. On the menu was a pasta dish with cheese and mushrooms. Razelle and I each ordered one. It was delicious and reminiscent of the same item I'd eaten in Canberra (minus the truffles, though).

We returned to our lodgings and called it a day. It was the end of our second Sunday in a row and we were ready for a day with a different name to finally come along.