The week I came back from Hawaii I had a terrible stomach ache, I felt miserable, and I was one hundred percent sure that I was doomed to feel that way for the rest of my life. Yet only days earlier I was living the lavish life of a wannabe Hawaiian monarch.
My retro paradise fantasy came to fruition at the Royal Hawaiian. The same Royal Hawaiian where Elvis, The Beatles, Joan Diddion and so many of my favorite 20th century artists spent their holidays. There I was, Mai Tai in hand, soaking up the same sunshine as George Harrison, drinking the same cocktails as Marlene Dietrich. I felt every bit the Hollywood starlet, the rock and roll royalty. The only difference between myself and them is that they were wealthy and welcome to all of the hotel’s luxuries based on their reputation alone. As for me… it’s a slightly different story.
When my friend Bryan won an all-inclusive, all expenses paid trip to Hawaii, he chose his roommate, coincidentally my best friend, as his plus-one. As a result, my boyfriend and I had no other option but to crash their vacation ( especially since flights in February were affordable, and the Royal Hawaiian was very crasher-friendly).
Upon our arrival at the hotel, it was time for lunch and beer. We went to a local brewery where I graciously paid for my friends’ lunch, after which I magnanimously shared my joint with them. I brought a pack from California where they are very legal, and since I was on a regal mission, the consequences of taking it with me, didn’t seem very formidable.
After the joint it was time for royal pool time, which included a round or two of Mai Tai’s, all on the room of course, that lead to a chicken-fight for honor and glory, in which I obviously prevailed. Further pool shenanigans were documented with an illustrious underwater waterproof Olympus camera. I really don’t remember exactly what happened after that. There may have been loco-mocos or poke involved.
The next day we got up bright and early, ready to take in the beauty of Oahu. We took an uber to Hanauma Bay. My friends were very excited about seeing the beautiful sealife, finding more photo-ops, and testing out their water shoes and snorkeling gear. Unfortunately, they were a bunch of weenies and didn’t make it into the water past their ankles. I on the other hand summoned all my mermaid princess powers to swim through the corals, past the sea urchins, into colorful pools of fish. I could have easily reenacted a scene or two from the Little Mermaid – but alas, I only had my human extremities to flip and parade through the water, as sea creatures of all sorts parted in my presence.
On our way out I noticed a pack of mongoose sorting through a garbage bin. The poor peasants must have been totally down and out. Fortunately I had a couple of empty beer cans that I hadn’t tossed earlier, so I left them by the bin for the little critters to exchange at their nearest mongoose recycling facility. I try to spread positivity wherever I go, and no creature is too low for a little charity.
Back at the Royal, Bryan’s employers were diligently anticipating our return. Myself and Jose hadn’t thought to buy tickets ahead of time to the sold-out, beach-front Luau. Yet we didn’t encounter any issues securing a spot at the center table, as our friend’s company was ready to accommodate our every need. We watched beautiful ladies perform the luau as their long, wavy hair danced in the wind; we were entertained by formidable warriors that stomped an earth-shaking battle dance; there were a few very agile men who performed fire dances; and the entertainment even included a theatrical rendition of Hawaii’s history. It was a beautiful evening with a fully stacked buffet and piña coladas that kind ladies kept bringing to our table.
Afterwards, there were many more drinks, a walk down the beach towards the cotton candy sunset, followed by after-hours play time at the pool, where we would have stayed longer had a man the size of my grandmas dresser not kicked us out. Clearly, he hadn’t been informed that we had some late night swimming to do, nor was he aware who he was talking to, but being the humble and gracious regents that we are, we left without a fuss.
When it was finally time to leave Waikiki Beach and the Royal Hawaiian behind, there wasn’t a single ounce of me that didn’t want to stay longer. Oh how I yearned for another Mai Tai, one more guava pancake, and one more radiant sunset. But as any other reign, mine also had to meet its sunset.
Back at home, I was a mere mortal, and it only took a day or so for me to develop full blown gastritis. They said that the numerous Mai Tai’s and piña coladas may have had something to do with it. Yet as I lay on my living room floor clutching my stomach, I could close my eyes and still see palm frawns swaying against the beautiful pink Royal Hawaiian walls; I could still feel the tropical sunshine bronzing my skin. And despite the aftermath of nausea and pure agony, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
Penned by Alina K. A. 