December 2007

Beach Break in Honolulu

By Gillian Kendall

Waiting for departure at gate 33 of Honolulu Airport, I am surrounded by suntanned, resigned Aussies. Their gloomy body language and compulsive, last-minute purchases of leis (flower garlands) and chocolate macadamias indicate that they have had a great vacation, but one that was not quite long enough.

I haven’t been here long either: I arrived just yesterday. But unlike my fellow travellers, I don’t resent leaving paradise, because I’ve figured out how to come back often. Since moving from the USA to Australia, I’ve realised that 1) I don’t enjoy flying over the entire Pacific Ocean all at once, and 2) It costs no more to break up my trans-Pacific journey. For the same price as a 16-hour journey from Oz to LA, I can take two days, two flights, and stop for a night in some place gorgeous – like New Zealand or Hawaii. Taking a break means I arrive refreshed, not wrung out.

Arriving in the Aloha State, I breathe in the fragrant, moist air, and catch the US$9 shuttle to one of 40-odd hotels close to Waikiki Beach. Because of its beauty, this beach was once reserved for Hawaiian nobility, and it’s where Olympic swim star Duke Kahanamoku rode a single wave for some 1,000m – the longest surf in history. Now Waikiki welcomes travellers from around the world, and we all get to feel like royalty, strolling on the soft, sugary sand, playing in the pure water.

The greatest jetlag cure I’ve found is a water massage. While floating face up, Dennis from the Chocolate-Pineapple Sports-Yoga Studio swooshed my body through spirals, loosening my limbs and washing away stress. Afterwards, relaxed and energised, I looked for lunch in the colourful streets. Sushi bars – inexpensive and authentic – appear everywhere, as do juice bars that serve smoothies as well as glorious blue, pink and orange cups of sweet Hawaiian “shave ice”.

After strolling through the lush gardens of the “Pink Palace” (the Royal Hawaiian Sheraton Hotel, maybe the most glamorous place in the world), I took a long, breezy walk down Waikiki. It’s a lively, well-used beach, with a compelling view of Diamond Head Crater. The warm turquoise shallows extend past the kids paddling and the honeymooners bobbing on floats. Where the ocean deepens, intrepid outrigger canoe-ers skim between the surfers. Out past the breakers, small sailboats glide by and on the horizon lies a cruise ship. Everyone enjoys Waikiki in their own way.

My way is to wander down all of Waikiki; past the Moana Surfrider Hotel with its famous Banyan Tree courtyard (arvo tea served daily); past the larger-than-life statue of Duke – always draped in fresh leis; past the surf contests, both official and unofficial; and past the aquarium, to rest under the huge trees of Queen Kapiolani Park. En route, I can rent snorkel or surf gear, or at least jog enough to justify pupus (Hawaiian finger food, such as coconut shrimp and spareribs) and a banana daiquiri as the sun goes down. Free beach movies start after sunset; visitors and locals bring picnics to hear live traditional music and watch classics on a 9m screen.

Most tourists photograph the sunset, but I prefer moonrise. On Waikiki last night, the mostly full moon rose over the dark mountains, flooding the sands with pale light. Silver-edged clouds covered then revealed, its face, each movement reflected in the waves. Back in my hotel, lulled by the sound of surf, I slept blissfully, knowing that I’d arrive home feeling great. I’m already planning my next stopover.

Gillian Kendall is a Hansard reporter for Victorian Parliament.