03 July 2009

1500 Hawaii/1100 04Jul Australia/2100EST
Day 3: “Qantas Travelers in Distress”

Man, am I getting speedy at those time conversions. I arrived at the airport this morning circa 0800, joyously two hours early and looking forward to something unhealthy from the terminal fast food, to be met with a regretful smile from the ticket agent. “Your flight has been delayed…(darn) until one o’clock…(darn!)…tomorrow morning. (WHATTTT?)”

She was so friendly that I wasn’t really upset, anyway (I mean, there are worse places to be stuck for a day than Hawaii in summer). They stuck me and 225 Aussies and Americans and New Zealanders in the Waikiki Marriot…two blocks from the beach. Gee! Life is hard.

I didn’t have any clothes except the (already-sweaty) jeans I wanted to wear on the plane, so I went to the convenience store (ABC—they have at least one per city block in Honolulu) and bought a sundress, flip flops, sunscreen, and a t-shirt (more practical for swimming than a bikini). Went straight to the beach and walked for an hour or so. At one pier near the hotel, I watched groups of kids walk out to the end of the pier, toss their boards in the water and dive the 15 feet or so down into the waves. I didn’t quite get up my courage to try it, but I rented a body board and flippers and got beat up by waves for a couple hours. The t-shirt rolled up in the back, creating an interesting effect of a dark tan on the lower half of my back, and the bottom part of my arms, and that's it, well except for a little burn line around one strap of my bikini top where I missed suntan lotion. A sandy red sort of gentleman with a Georgia accent, body boarding near me, turned out to be in the Army, stationed in HI with his family as of four months ago. That was as far as our conversation got before some big breakers went up my nose, effectively killing my desire to speak. All day I have been meeting the 225 other Aus-bound travelers (on our little hotel tickets, we’re called “Qantas Travelers in Distress”), all wandering within 4 or 5 blocks of the hotel, buying ourselves little snacks and exchanging knowing nods and asking each other if we really know Hugh Jackman (ok, I admit it, I’m trying to see if I can fit his name into every single blog entry). The fireworks are tonight at sunset—sun sets surprisingly early here, a little after 1900—and I plan to take a nap before dinner. The plan is to board the plane from Hawaii around midnight on July 3, arriving in Sydney at 0820 on July 5. Thus completely skipping over the 4th of July. How unpatriotic.