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Waikiki

Waikiki. Honolulu. Pearl Harbor. Oahu. Diamond Head.

Is there any city on earth that is so small, so remote, and yet so etched into our collective minds?

In the 

When you visit Honolulu, there's lots to do.

There's the Bishop Museum, which has the world's best  Hawaiian and South Pacific artifact collection. It's well worth a visit.


Diamond Head is the Dramatic Backdrop to all Waikiki activities.

I'm always looking to supplement my collection of Hawaiian music, so we visit Borders Books. Borders must have a thousand Hawaiian titles, and over fifty of them are in listening booths.
I never leave with empty hands.


Somewhere, there's a naked poodle...

But inevitably, you make your way back - like everyone else - to the beach.
To the surfers.
To the sand.
To the sun.
To the kayaks.
To the waves.
To the bikinis.
To the smell of cocoa butter.
To the crossroads of the east/west world.

To sit and wait. And watch. And be watched.
This is the spot.

Japanese girls oohing and ahhing and taking pictures to the left of you.
Midwestern tourists wearing baseball caps and white socks to the right.
European men are baking in the sun with their bikini briefs climbing up their crack.
And the natives are just hanging, laughing, and trying to make a buck by taking your picture with a parrot!

On Waikiki beach, there are no majorities, no minorities, and no attitudes. Just aloha...

It's easy to fall into a rhythm. Swim, sun, surf, shop, siesta, stare, snicker, stare some more, salivate, slurp a drink - then start again.

At least till it rains. It rains quite a bit here.
It's funny watching people lay everything out, then a short rain comes, and they pick everything up. Then the rain disappears, and they lay everything out again.
Just like shampoo. Rinse and repeat.


Where are the keys to this thing?


Moonlit Palms

Not bad.....