I was sitting at breakfast a couple weeks ago. It’s not often that I eat out, but when you’re in a hotel and the breakfast is free, it’s hard to ignore, let alone turn down.
I gathered my breakfast goodies and took a seat across from three gentlemen. As always, I eavesdropped on their conversation. The stories of others fascinate me to no end, and this one was no exception.
It wasn’t so much the story, but the sharing of vacation experiences. One of the men was heading to Hawaii and the other two were giving him advice about what to see and do. The one guy had been to all the islands, many times. He had been there so many times that he had run out of things to do there.
He recounted his adventures. He’d been to the volcano national park something like 10 times, so many times that he won’t be going back again. Boy, that sounds like fun doesn’t it? Seeing the same things in the same place over and over, never considering that there may be some other places to venture to in your life.
I’ve been to Hawaii four times I think. If the Janmeister wants to go there because she’s never been before, I will gladly go. But it’s not the first place on my hit list for a vacation. I’m not slamming Hawaii. It’s a nice place. It just doesn’t float my particular boat.
I suppose I could have myself to blame for it. I was very young when I first went to the islands.. We stayed in Kihei on Maui. My girlfriend at the time loved to lay on the beach all day long. Me, that’s right up there with watching paint dry or having shards of bamboo shoved up under my fingernails. I can’t sit still that long.
But there was a lovely body of water there, so I thought, what the heck, why not snorkel? I donned my mask and off I went. It was incredible. I must have spent an hour or more out there. I know this to be fairly true as when I came back to shore, my back was already blistering. I was burned to a crisp.
Not the best start to a vacation, being fried, baked and boiled. The rest of the trip was great. What’s not great about being in an exotic port with the girl you love, drinking pineapple wine and soaking in the scents and sights of the tropics.
I didn’t much care for the luau. I’m not really sure why anyone goes to these things. Sure, it’s all you can drink very watered-down mai tais and Blue Hawaiians. But I tired quickly of being called “family” on the tour bus and the pseudo display of culture on display on the stage. I also never really took to holding up my thumb and pinkiy finger, so I just split my fingers ala Mr. Spock. The natives were not amused.
My next trip wasn’t much better. I was on a business trip. Now, you’d think that 10 days on Maui would be a dream vacation, but it was a lot to work. The thought of spending 10 days with my co-workers was not going to work for me, so as usual, I dreamed up some activities that would get me out of the resort for a time.
I had talked my boss into letting me do a road rallye for the attendees. We would be going on the road to Hana. If you’ve ever driven the road, then you know it’s not for the faint of heart. It has 52 bridges, many one way, 60 hairpin turns and takes three hours to drive – one way. I knew it was a fool’s errand to have a car rallye of a bunch of mainlanders that traversed the road to Hana. Given the age and drinking habits of the convention attendees, it would not have been pretty. Undoubtedly there would have been a few deaths.
But it did get me off site. I spent the day driving to Hana and then back. I spent an hour or so at the 7 Sacred Pools at O’hea Gulch and I tried to find Charles Lindbergh’s grave. No luck.
Oh, and what joy. We had one of those damned luaus again. Hawaiian dancers, Hawaiian food… OK, outside of the poi none of the food was Hawaiian. I don’t classify roasted pig and potato salad to be native food. I can get that in Florida or even in Seattle. Big deal! And there were the requisite Blue Hawaiians and mai tais. And I found that if you down enough of them you’ll get enough of a buzz that Hawaii looks pretty good to you.
It’s not Tahiti by any stretch. My advice. Stay on a plane a couple extra hours (OK, about five extra hours) and fly instead to Tahiti, Moorea or Bora Bora. Now that’s a vacation. There’s no McDonalds there my friend, not on Moorea or Bora Bora. No Burger King either. Or Starbucks. You’ll hear the natives speaking French and Tahitian, not English.
And if that’s a little too far to fly, I would head east. A direct flight from Seattle to Miami is that same six hours on a plane. From there you can head to the Bahamas (30 minutes), Jamaica (90 minutes), Puerto Rico (120 minutes) or St. Thomas (150 minutes).
I’ve been to them all. And I can safely say, I like them all better than Hawaii. I mean, if you’re going to fork over a couple grand to go on a vacation, why would you just pick the U.S., or the closest part of the U.S. that has palm trees? If you really want to stay in America, think about heading to the Florida Keys. Of course, you can go to Puerto Rico or St. Thomas and still be in the United States
Now off with you. Time to get your passport up to date and pack your bags. Time’s a wasting and there are lots of places to visit in your fairly brief life. Yes, Hawaii is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want a timeshare there.
In the Emerald City, all my bags are packed and I’m ready to go.
– Robb