Hawaii day 5

July 28

We meant to pack before going to bed last night, but yesterday's fun lasted until around midnight and we went to bed without doing so. Our room was scattered with items this morning that needed to be closed up in their proper suitcases. We had much to do when we awoke and time seemed to be running too fast. Razelle enjoyed her scrambled eggs (bought from Ken's House of Pancakes the night before and reheated in the microwave) while I packed. We got everything into the car and then I went to settle our bill. I finally got to meet Penne. She had had the impression we were staying one more night, so she promised to return the extra charge to our account within the next three days. We thanked her for a wonderful stay at Aaron's Cottage. We will never forget our experiences here.

We drove into Hilo and filled the car's tank with gas while it rained on us. During the short drive to the airport the rain stopped. I unloaded Razelle and our luggage at the curb and a porter appeared to take Razelle and the luggage to the check-in counters. This was more convenient than trying to wrestle with carts and all the logistics this would have entailed. The porter had no set fee. Razelle paid him a bit more than a cart would have cost.

I returned the car without complications and found Razelle waiting for me in her wheelchair. We headed for security, but first I had to drink the can of energy drink I had with me before we could go through. The shoes-off routine was not a surprise to Razelle this time, but she still needed to be inspected thoroughly by two female security officers. They had a sense of humor and Razelle was in rare form. She entertained them with her life story and they came out from behind the screens all smiles. I don't imagine we'll find that pleasant of an experience with security anywhere else ahead on this trip. We're counting down the airports left by now. Not counting this one we have only three more airports left to take off from: Honolulu, New York and London.

Razelle had no water with her when we boarded the plane and had to buy a bottle for 2 dollars from the steward just so she could take a pill against the effects of the altitude. There was no provision on this plane for a small paper cup with a little water in it. This was, after all, a domestic flight. "Nothing free here, Madam. This is not an international flight," the steward said.

I got to see the topography of the big island out the windows as we flew past it and to review the places we'd been. In about half an hour we were back in Honolulu. We walked down a ramp onto the tarmac and a huge Daniel-type ethnic Hawaiian man wheeled Razelle ahead of me. The cost of carts here is off-putting. We stacked the bags near the door and watched for a shuttle from our car rental agency to come by and stop for us. The driver helped me wrestle the bags into his bus, and we continued around the airport picking up more passengers and their luggage. Two oversized bags looked like body bags to me. I joked with their owner about that. He said the bags contained golf clubs. Of course golf clubs! How interesting that I from the Middle East first thought of body bags?

The car I rented here is smaller. It's a compact orange hatchback. The seats fold down to make it into a tiny station wagon. I don't care much for it; the luggage just fit in the back. We used the GPS to navigate Honolulu traffic and reach our hotel in Waikiki. This is a fancy shmancy city here; lovely landscape, tall modern buildings, trolley cars and sightseeing buses. Streeeeetch limmmmozines! Homeless people and well-heeled tourists. Lots of tourists. The tourists are more fascinating than the city itself. Our hotel has valet parking. We couldn't check in for several hours so our bags were stored by a concierge. This place was like the hotels in Fiji we were glad we hadn't booked into, yet here we were doing just that in Honolulu. We had no choice. The money had already been spent the moment I made the reservation.

We put several vital items into our back packs and left our luggage with the concierge, then ventured out to pass time exploring Honolulu for food and maybe a Wi-Fi hotspot. I discovered that the street our hotel is on is THE main drag of Waikiki. Fashion houses line the street. We looked at the menu of a Hard Rock Café, and moved on. A mall we came to had several food courts in several linked galleries on several different floors. We tired of searching and settled for what was at hand. Razelle couldn't walk any further. We had spinach and mushroom pizza.

When enough time had elapsed we returned to our hotel. Along the way Razelle found some souvenirs to buy. We learned that our room was ready; a corner penthouse on the top floor with view of the ocean and another of the Honolulu skyline. Not too shabby! Our bags arrived after us. Razelle tipped the bell hop. We were out of our element, but we'd adjust. I discovered that I could surf the Internet. I called the front desk to find out what the charge for this would be. Free Internet comes with the penthouse. That alone made adjusting to this place a pleasant prospect.

Razelle had no energy left for more exploring. She remained in the room while I went out again to find a florist. Razelle wants to bring our hosts for Shabbat tomorrow some flowers. I found a public parking garage and learned that our valet parking cost was comparable. I wandered into the Hilton Hawaiian Village complex. This "Hawaiian village" (such audacity to call it that!) was even glitzier than our hotel was. Shops of every kind a proper tourist resort must have were here. I found the florist shop; all it sold were orchid corsages and leis made out of real blossoms. This Honolulu was too much of a dreamland for me. I found a MacDonald's on the way back to our hotel and brought Razelle some food she could eat.

We can't wait to see other parts of Oahu. Honolulu is too much.