Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
We were up at 0’dark thirty, loading our suitcases into the car and the two trailers we needed because of Mary’s suitcases and travel trunks. After loading up, we were off at 4:00 am and promptly were flummoxed by freeway closures. Three GPSes are going, and finally made it on the 91 east!
It was about 40 minutes to the arrival, and we were going just fine. We got to the American Airlines gates and went through without a problem, except for the mountain of baggage we had to check in. Mary overachieved in the clothing department. After many questions from security, wondering why so much baggage (they were sure we were smuggling drugs, transporting people, or some other illicit activity), we got to the waiting area.
With my bad back, I was going to try to walk it, but decided to take a wheelchair instead. Thank goodness, because LAX is now a full-contact obstacle course. We had to take three different elevators to reach the boarding area—at that point, I wasn’t sure whether I was catching a flight or unlocking a secret level.
We strutted onto the plane like royalty with absolutely no issues—turns out, booking first class means you board before everyone else and get handed a drink so fast you barely have time to pretend you’re not used to this kind of luxury.
On takeoff, we hit a bump in the runway, and Mary panicked.
“Let me outta here!”
She settled down when I said drinks are on the way!
“You promised a drink!”
We began takeoff, and within 90 seconds, we were winging our way southwest to the Hawaiian Islands.
Using my amazing math skills and elite navigation instincts, I took one look at Catalina Island, snapped a picture, did some quick calculations on my phone, and confidently informed the flight attendant that the captain was right on course. She actually told him.
Somewhere up front, a highly trained pilot got confirmation from seat 4A with a calculator app that the actions were approved.
We were headed in the correct direction.
A few minutes later, brunch arrived along with our drinks, and all was good!
The meal was pretty good.
The flight was uneventful, and we actually landed 45 minutes early thanks to my navigation skills and Mother Nature!
We waited for our limo, which pulled up right on time, complete with a driver who insisted on carrying our bags to the car.
He was not, however, prepared for the fact that Mary travels with 234 suitcases. After one look at the mountain of luggage, he calmly called a friend who owns an 18-wheeler.
By the time we left, we had a limo for us and a semi-truck for Mary’s “essentials.”
Upon arrival at the hotel and after unpacking into our three rooms (we were in #1, and Mary’s baggage just fit into rooms #2 and #3), we headed to the MaiTai Bar.
The opening of The Royal Hawaiian on February 1, 1927, ushered in a new era of luxurious resort travel to Hawaii.
The resort was built for $4 million and completed in 18 months. The six-story, 400-room structure was fashioned in a Spanish-Moorish style, popular during the period and influenced by screen star Rudolph Valentino.
The era of opulence came to an abrupt end on the morning of December 7, 1941, when Japanese planes flew alongside Waikiki Beach on their way to the US fleet berthed at Pearl Harbor. The Navy recreation and morale office leased The Royal Hawaiian, transforming the resort into a relaxation center for Navy personnel. The resort was restored to its pre-war elegance in 1947.
In the 1950s, many new moderately priced hotels were built in the Waikiki area, including SurfRider and Princess Kaiulani, built by the Matson Company. As larger and faster planes reduced the flying time from the mainland to Hawaii, fewer and fewer vacationers wanted to spend 4.5 days aboard a Matson ship each way. Although more than half of all the tourists who came to Hawaii in 1955 stayed in one of Matson’s four hotels, only a fifth came by ship.
The cheese board was perfect!!
All of a sudden, we felt like we were being watched.
Get closer, and you WILL BE LUNCH!!
Megan met us at the MiTai Bar and had lunch with us.
After lunch, we went to the front desk area and made reservations for a Luau, a trip to Arizona, and several other activities.
Great plans are now set in concrete!
My back was staging a full-scale rebellion, so we stayed in the room. I slept twelve hours straight—amazing what painkillers can do when they’re not busy making you think the bedside lamp is judging you.
At some point in the middle of the night, I apparently grabbed the camera and took a picture out our window. We’re on the fourth floor, overlooking Waikiki with a perfect view of Diamond Head.
I have zero memory of this.
So now I own a blurry, slightly crooked, medically assisted “art shot” of one of Hawaii’s most famous views.
It was still in the mid-70s, and with the window open, we could hear the waves lapping at the beach!
See you tomorrow!
