03/21/2026 - 03/28/2026 In Summary
We're off to see our granddaughter compete in her gymnastics tournament (and yes, we bravely agreed to a "short" vacation—purely for moral support, obviously). We flew American Airlines, departing in the morning and landing in Honolulu at noon… which is either impressive scheduling or proof that time zones are just suggestions.
Flying high!!
Instead to moving all around the islands, we decided to stay in Honolulu at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, a landmark since 1928. What I thought would be a treat turned out to be somewhat less than Motel 6!! I realize the place is almost 100 years old but come one, no room service, no robes, dirty windows...Marriott ought be ashamed. We survived but at astronomical prices. Next time, we are staying OUT OF THE CITY and away from any tourist trap!
Right on the beach!
Did You Know?
- Nicknamed the "Pink Palace of the Pacific." Its bright pink exterior is one of Waikīkī's most recognizable landmarks.
- Opened in 1927 (and quickly became the luxury address in Hawaiʻi for visiting celebrities and royalty).
- Built on historic royal land in Waikīkī that was once associated with Hawaiian aliʻi (chiefs/royalty).
- Spanish-Moorish architectural style, with arched corridors and a distinctive, glamorous resort look that was unusual in Hawaiʻi at the time.
- Famous banyan tree: The hotel's courtyard features a massive banyan that's a popular photo spot and has been growing there for decades.
- Hollywood & celebrity history: Over the years it has hosted many famous guests (from movie stars to musicians), adding to its legend.
- Mai Tai connections: Waikīkī is central to tiki-cocktail lore, and the Royal Hawaiian is often mentioned in classic Waikīkī cocktail culture (even though different venues claim "original" status).
- Now part of Marriott's Luxury Collection (The Royal Hawaiian, a Luxury Collection Resort).
- Iconic beachfront location: It sits directly on Waikīkī Beach, with Diamond Head views and immediate beach access.
We have been to Hawaii many times but this time we have an agenda.
We had been looking forward to the trip to Hawaii for months. Mary's granddaughter Megan was competing in a gymnastics meet, and we were determined to be the proudest grandparents in the entire Pacific Ocean.
Paul packed like he was going on an expedition to the moon: three hats, two cameras, four pairs of "comfortable" shoes, and a folder labeled IMPORTANT HAWAII PAPERS, which contained exactly one boarding pass and a coupon for airport pretzels. Mary packed sensibly, which meant she packed everything Paul forgot.
The flight to Hawaii was long, but Paul kept everyone entertained by trying to pronounce "Maui," "Oahu," and "macadamia" with great confidence and very little accuracy. By the time they landed, Mary had apologized to three flight attendants and one confused passenger from Idaho.
We checked into the famous Royal Hawaiian Hotel, which Paul had described as "the pink palace of paradise." After seeing the bill, Mary described it as "the pink palace of poor financial judgment."
Our room had a lovely view if you leaned sideways, stood on one foot, and looked between two palm trees and a delivery truck. The bathroom was approximately the size of Paul's suitcase, which was unfortunate because Paul's suitcase had apparently brought its own weather system.
"For what we paid," Mary said, "I expected the towels to hug me."
Paul inspected the minibar and nearly fainted. "Mary, this bottle of water costs more than our first couch."
The Royal Hawaiian was beautiful, no doubt, but after one overpriced breakfast involving two eggs, a tiny slice of pineapple, and coffee served in a cup smaller than a thimble, Paul made an announcement.
"We are not eating here again unless Megan wins a gold medal and they accept applause as payment."
Luckily, we discovered the Elks Lodge.
The Elks Lodge became our Hawaiian headquarters. We went there for lunch. We went there for dinner. Once, Paul suggested stopping by "just to check if the meatloaf was still friendly." The people were welcoming, the food was good, and the prices did not require a home equity loan.
Mary loved it. "Now this," she said, cutting into a sensible meal, "is paradise."
I nodded. "Forget the hotel. Next time we're sleeping under a table here."
The big day finally arrived. Megan's gymnastics meet was held in a gym filled with nervous parents, proud grandparents, and small athletes who appeared to be made entirely of springs. Megan waved from across the floor, and Mary immediately teared up.
Paul raised both cameras at once, accidentally took a picture of his own ear, then filmed six minutes of the ceiling.
Megan was amazing. She flipped, balanced, jumped, and landed with the confidence of someone who had not just paid twelve dollars for hotel toast. When she finished her routine, Paul stood and cheered so loudly that three judges looked over, possibly considering deducting points from him personally.
Afterward, Megan ran into grandma's arms.
"You came all this way!" she said.
"Of course," Mary said. "We wouldn't miss it for anything."
Paul added, "And we found a great Elks Lodge."
Megan laughed. "What about your fancy hotel?"
Mary smiled. "Pretty, pink, and overpriced."
I nodded. "But you, young lady, were worth every penny."
And that was the truth. The hotel may have been overrated, the breakfast may have been ridiculous, and Paul may still have been pronouncing "ukulele" like a medical condition, but watching Megan shine in Hawaii made the whole trip unforgettable.