I am writing to you from yesterday. And yesterday was a looong day because I lived it twice. You see, Hawai’i is almost a full day behind ADST. When it’s midday back home, it’s 15:00 in Hawai’i, but… yesterday. It also means that jet lag flying in this direction isn’t too bad. I went to bed around 21:00 last night (18:00 ADST) and woke up at 05:30, had a coffee and set off on my morning walk; although hills, heat and humidity meant I cut my walk to six kilometres, but I’ll try for the full eight next time.
Getting here wasn’t without its stress. Starting with a 22:00 text from Qantas the night before telling me I could be bumped because they’d overbooked the plane. (It transpired that the 6:30 flight was cancelled because the last flight the day before was two hours late getting in, and crews are required to have a specific number of hours of rest overnight, so the 06:30 passengers were accommodated on my 10:15 flight.') Anyhoo, my seat was safe and we departed a little later than expected but arrived into Sydney without a hitch… except for my hiking boots.
As I prepared to retrieve my bag from beneath the seat in front of me, the sole of my left boot caught on the carpet and snagged. I looked down to discover the middle layer of the sole was disintegrating before my very eyes. And then I saw the right boot was having the same problem. I walked, floppy-heeled, to the bus and then even more floppier-heeled to the transfer shuttle, which took me from Terminal 3 to Terminal 1. Then I continued flopping towards the Rydges Hotel, losing the left sole completely along the way, followed shortly by the right. It was beyond ridiculous. It’s OK, though; I will manage without them.
Day-use at Rydges Hotel finishes at 17:00, so I had to wait a little over an hour for check-in to open at the Hawaiian Airlines counter, but I got to do some people-watching in the meantime. Then, I was off to find food before my 21:40 flight from Sydney to Honolulu, with some time for more people-watching.
With the help of Prince Valium and a 50 mL bottle of whisky lovingly bestowed upon me by my husband before I left, I managed four or five hours of sleep on the overnight flight. I paid a little more for the “extra comfort” in the main cabin, which was totally worth it — first served, heaps of leg room, and deeper reclining seats. I was sitting next to an Australian couple who were staying on O’ahu but had also visited Kauai and the Big Island before.
We disembarked on time at 10:30, and I raced for passport control and… I chose the wrong fucking line. There were five, and I chose the fourth, and it was literally the worst — two hours or more. I was afraid of missing my connection, and I still had to get my luggage from the carousel, get it to the transit luggage drop-off point (I. JUST. MADE. IT. WITH. SECONDS. TO. SPARE!), and get myself through security again. I was a sweaty, stressed mess, but I had about 30 minutes before boarding, so I spritzed my face in the bathroom, changed my top for a fresh one, and headed to gate A17. Except that wasn’t my gate anymore. It had changed since I checked-in in Sydney. An American woman (who had checked-in only an hour earlier) asked me if I was also waiting on flight 308, and that’s when it dawned on us. We searched the board and realised it had been moved to B4 without any announcements, so I got there with 10 minutes to spare.
For context, I had a three-hour layover in Honolulu and needed every minute.
On board my flight to Kona on the Big Island, we were delayed almost an hour on the tarmac because the display panel in the cockpit wasn’t lighting up, so a new part had to be sourced and replaced by a technician. After that delay, we were in the air and heading towards Kona.
Kona Aiport is built on Keahole Point, the western-most tip of the island and what is essentially a lava field from the 1801 eruption of Hualālai, which is not an extinct volcano and is expected to erupt again within the next 100 years or so.
I cannot begin to explain the emotion I felt as the plane descended on a runway surrounded by lava. From the air, it reminded me of the top of a chocolate brownie.
Kona Airport is open-air, so with a smile bigger than you could imagine, I weaved through the crowd, collected my bag from the carousel and made it onto the next Hertz shuttle bus. (Travelling solo has perks because you can often squeeze in where couples and groups can’t.) After the formalities at the Hertz counter, I walked to my Jeep in Bay 80 and took a few minutes to familiarise myself with the features, turn on the air-conditioning, and prepare myself for driving on the “wrong” side of the road. As I pulled onto Queen Ka’ahumanu Highway, I said aloud to myself, ‘Holy shit. I am actually doing this.’
The woman who served me at Kona Wine Market was lovely, and we had a quick chat. After that, I stopped at Island Naturals Market & Deli for a few supplies. The flight delay out of Honolulu meant I was in peak-hour traffic. (Today, I learned there was also a minor car accident that added to the congestion.) I arrived at the guest house just in time to watch my first Kona sunset from the lanai. Cloud cover meant the sun didn’t disappear below the ocean’s horizon, so no “green flash”. Another day, perhaps.
I ate avocado on toast for dinner and drank Kō Hana rum while listening to coquí frogs — a terrible invasive species, but their croak is kind of cute. They can be obnoxiously loud, particularly on the other side of the island, due to their sheer numbers. The avocado tree on the property where I’m staying is laden with fruit, so I suspect I will eat my fill while here.
Mahalo for reading my ramblings!
All my aloha,
Rebecca x
