Hawaii Five-Uh-Oh

Odd, but it’s now looking like I’m going to Hawaii in April instead of the Faroe Islands in August. My friend Kendra lives in Honolulu and I recently learned that she and her husband will be transferred to Seattle in May; if I want to see Hawaii on the cheap (free place to stay, no need for a rental car, buy groceries and cook at home instead of eating in restaurants), the time to do so is now. An opportunity not to be missed!

Admittedly, I’m always drawn to colder, cloudier climes, and, as such, Hawaii has never been at the top of my destination list. At the same time, never having visited a tropical location—not even Florida—I’m finding myself increasingly intrigued by the prospect of swimming in water bluer than the sky, rather than the murky Atlantic surf I’ve always known. Palm trees? I’ve never seen them. Well, no, maybe there were a few in San Francisco, now that I think about it. But to be surrounded by palm trees, pale ocean, and impossibly lush mountains? It seems exotic beyond all reckoning. Plus, as a Lost fanatic, I’m really chomping at the bit to tour the Lost set before it gets dismantled. And black sand beaches. I really want to see a black sand beach. Iceland has them, but unfortunately, I didn’t get to see any while there.

That’s another thing about Hawaii that bewitches me: the fact that it’s like Iceland’s strange twin. They’re both islands born from violence. Both have black sand beaches and volcanoes. Both are teeth-clenchingly expensive. One’s the sunny blonde twin, the cheerleader, the popular one who always gets her man. She is spring and summer rolled into one. She is flowers and ice cream cones and light. Nobody disputes her beauty; it’s a given. The other is the dark-haired gypsy twin, feral and unpredictable. She sits in the back of the classroom and never says a word. She’s cold, barren, brittle, some might say. Others are more diplomatic. She’s edgy and mysterious, a bit artsy, they allow. Not everyone appreciates or even sees her beauty, because it’s a dark beauty, an unfettered beauty; it has teeth. But it’s there, and oh my god, it’s so succulent and unrestrained. Seeing it broke my heart just when I thought I had no more heart left to break. And yet, at the same time, it also made me feel more alive than I had in ages.

Of course my loyalty lies with the latter twin. Still, I’m curious about the former. I’m curious about what it would be like to briefly alight in her magnificently dazzling world. I know it’s not fair to paint Hawaii with such common brush. It is vibrantly exotic; it does have a primal, dark energy lurking beneath its radiant face. But I think that, on the whole, it’s a safe, popular destination viewed in terms of its warmth, beaches, surfing, and fancy drinks. It’s seen alternately as a romantic destination and a foolproof fun-for-the-whole-family locale. That’s really not the case with Iceland, which, aside from being a paradise for outdoorsy types, remains stubbornly indefinable.
While there, the promise of skydiving will hook its finger at me and lure me into its fold. Ever since I went skydiving in 1998 I’ve been eager to do it again. The experience was incredible, even over the boring mid-Virginia landscape. Imagine jumping over Oahu. Imagine Diamond Head, white sand, and pristine blue water below. I think it’s well worth the $150 price tag.

I’ll need to work out the logistics of this and purchase a plane ticket once I’m back from London. Things will just be too busy and chaotic until then.

Maybe, like Stella, I can use this tropical location as a backdrop for getting my groove back. The groove I never really had, truthfully. Maybe it’s time to find it.

song heard most recently before posting:
A Caution to the Birds—The Frames