Inbetween Adventures

The best parts of these sorts of trips are the downtime bits. The pairing off with your husband or mother and eating meals and giggling at all the lame tourists. (Because you're not one of them. Obviously.) From the start, Brett and I began our mornings at a coffee shop next door to the hotel. They sold "Hawaiian lattes" which are regular lattes but they have coconut and macadamia nut flavoring in them. They were expensive and delicious and we had one every morning without guilt or shame. The time difference meant that I woke up early so I'd sit on our little balcony or walk down to the beach and sit in the sand before the crowds swarmed. One morning Brett rented a surf board and took to the chilly bay to catch some waves. It wasn't the best morning for waves and as it got later, more and more tourists rented boards and paddled out, and before you knew it, there were 150 people waiting for waves that wouldn't come. Brett eventually threw in the towel but on his way to return the board, someone took a look at him with his long hair and white rashguard and they asked him if he worked there. So that made him feel pretty cool. 

Ellen and Lee dared to rent mopeds and they scooted around town. Lee has some friends that live on the eastside so they braved the busy streets and quiet suburban roads. Mom and Dad did a lot of on-foot exploration, light shopping, and adventurous eating. They continued the hunt for fishing shirts and one day, Brett and I ran into them so we all had lunch at a fish market. Those sorts of things are very exciting you know; spontaneously running into your own family members in a strange town. You know there there, but when you see them you feel so surprised.

Mom and Dad had a beach-facing room with a giant balcony that looked over the whole scene. Any downtime that wasn't dedicated to napping or hygiene was spent up in Mom and Dads room. Lee in particular could be found up there at any given moment. We would meet here in the afternoons to mull over our diner options. Throughout the week, Ellen would cluster us together to take pictures. Brett and Lee did their best sorority girl poses. 

On everyone's favorite night, we just ordered some takeout and sat up in their room and we told stories and laughed at Lee and Dad some more. At some point, Dad began asking questions like, "What's your favorite quality about yourself?" and "What's your biggest insecurity." He would laugh at himself but then pipe down to hear your answer. Ellen nearly refused to participate and Brett suddenly had a few errands to run. 
"Come on, Brett. Open your kimono!" - Chris Union

T'was a slow paced week in what can only be described as inspiring weather. Good temperatures make me feel highly capable and dangerous. What's that about? My only complaint was our seemingly octagonal bedsheets. There were corners everywhere. I'd wake up in the night, just enough to pull the covers back over to my side. I'd find the corner and give it a tug and the whole top sheet would rotate like tossed pizza dough. I encountered a multitude of corners. I'd shove some of those corners back over towards Brett and then straighten out my side. But then my toes would break through the bottom. The fitted sheet snapped up to my ankles. I tugged and pushed and pulled and tucked, and every morning we'd wake up in a pile, both of us huddled under four square feet of top sheet. Everything else was on the floor, the fitted sheet curled into a blob in the center of the bed. We don't have this problem at home so something must be funny about those Hawaiian sheets.