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...Continued from yesterday: On Thursday morning we drove a few minutes from Kilauea Military Camp, which is located on the rim of the volcano, to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, which is in the volcano. At first I had some trouble visualizing that we were inside an active volcano. In my mind's eye a volcano looked like a defined mountain with a hole in its top. Like the Nicaraguan volcanoes
 ...or Masaya,  ...both of which I'd seen while visiting my daughter who was at that time working in Nicaragua in the jungle outside the city of Leon. Through a clearing in the jungle one could see Momotombo off in the distance. One could also drive or hike up to the top of the volcano and look into its vast smoking crater. In fact on weekends my daughter used to lead groups of adventurous foreign tourists on volcano hikes to the top of the local volcano craters to raise funds for Las Tias, an organization of women in Leon who cared for street orphans. Once during my visit my daughter and I traveled to the city of Granada from which my daughter hired a taxi driver to take us to the top of the nearby active volcano Masaya. The driver took us right up to the crater. It was hot up there, and the smoke that wafted up from the crater smelled of sulphur, and the crater itself was the size of a lake. Here's a picture I found on the 'net of the visitors' section of the Masaya crater. 
 In truth, to me the crater did look and feel like the entrance to Hell; it was hot and smokey and sulfuric and creepy, and the day was over-cast and I couldn't lose the paranoia that somebody - possibly me - could stumble over the not-high-enough guard rail into the white-hot crater. In truth, having seen one volcano, I didn't feel any burning desire to ever again see another. But Tom, who'd never seen a volcano, did. And hence we were in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park standing inside the crater of an active volcano. But the whole point of my story is this: to me, where we were didn't look or feel like the inside of a volcano crater. It just seemed as if were in some hilly countryside, despite what the signs said.  ...and despite the billows of steam that rose up from cracks in the ground called steam vents.    ...and despite a smoking hole in a plateau that we could see off in the distance. 
 ...located outside of the the Jagger volcano museum, 
 ...after having the read the explanation on the sign post near the lookout that Kilauea is actually a massive collapsed volcano, or a caldera,  ....with a not-too-deep outer crater a few square miles in diameter surrounding the smoking and sometimes lava-spouting inner-inner crater. 
 ...as opposed to Mauna Loa, in the background, which is just kind of short for a volcano,  ...but which apparently can still pack a wallop when it erupts, as can Kilauea.*  *At a moment when I caught it spouting some lava.
To be continued...
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...Continued from 4/27/2017:
 ...from whence we two oldsters drove off in this snazzy Mustang (apparently they were all out of the economy subcompact style that we'd ordered), 
 ...an American Army post used for training purposes and also offering, like the Hale Koa in Honolulu, recreational lodging to active duty and retired military personnel and their families.  The camp, known locally as KMC, is named after Kilauea, the giant active volcano on the rim of which the camp is located and the natural wonder we’d come to The Big Island to see. Upon arriving at KMC we headed for the Welcome Center, which indeed felt very welcoming,   …and was hung with photos of the camp from times gone by,     …including this shot of General Dwight D. Eisenhower, a cigarette dangling from his hand.  After we'd registered and received the keys to our quarters we hurried to catch dinner at the Crater Rim Café, the camp dining facility,  …connected to the Lava Lounge.   As with the rest of this area of Hawaii, at Kilauea Military Camp it’s all about volcanoes.
 …with its friendly staff and eclectic décor,  …consisted of a couple of prix fixe menu choices, either the salad bar or the expanded salad/baked potato-and-or rice/ice-cream bar,
 I had salad and a baked potato smothered in mushrooms (forgoing the butter, cheese, sour cream, bacon and other potato possibilities), while Tom had the same to which he added a piece of fire-grilled salmon, which he pronounced delicious. After dinner we headed to our quarters, a small but more-than-adequate apartment consisting of:
  
 ...and a bathroom. 
 
   The morning after we arrived we took a little walk around the camp. 
 ...the post office,  
 ...the recreation center, 
 ...and the cottages -probably officers' quarters in the past - that were also available for lodging,  ...each one of which had pretty stained glass windows in the back with an Island motif.      Then we headed back over to the Crater Rim Cafe for some breakfast,   ...where we learned from the local newspaper that we had the good fortune to be on The Big Island for the week of the Merrie Monarch Festival, a celebration of Hawaiian culture throughout the Islands, but especially on The Big Island and in Hilo, where hula competitions are held nightly.  I was thinking that it would be neat to drive back to Hilo some night during our stay to watch the hula competition but I was told by one of the local residents that people come from all over the world to watch the competitions, that tickets must be purchased well in advance, and that everybody watches the evening competitions on TV, which is what we ended up doing, too.
Then after breakfast we climbed back into our Mustang and set out to the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park to see us some volcanoes. To be continued... Wednesday morning we checked out of the Hale Koa, but not before one last fond farewell breakfast at the Koko Café. 
 ...macadamia nut pancakes with coconut syrup and strawberry compote  ...the halo halo, a mix of shredded honeydew, coconut, and cantaloupe, purple sweet potato cubes, jello cubes and milk. The taste was different, but quite interesting and good. 
 I also tried the strawberry haupia, which was good as well, though it couldn't hold a candle to the haupia pie I had at that Honolulu McDonald's (see post from 4/24/2017). 
 Though we had to check out by 11 am our plane didn't leave until 4 pm so after we checked out of the Hale Koa,   ..we left our luggage at the front desk, walked around the grounds for a bit,         ...then along Waikiki Beach for a while,     ...then we walked around downtown Waikiki.    We came across the Royal Hawaiian Center, a mall with a pretty courtyard,    ...in which is located a Hawaiian cultural center called Helumoa Hale that offers public performances in the courtyard as well as educational programs on Hawaiian culture, including classes in music, hula, and lei-making. 
 As I've fallen in love with the Hawaiian language, music, and the ukulele, we stopped to listen for a while. They sounded lovely. When they took a break I went over to talk to them and told them that how much I was enjoying their singing and playing. It turned out that three of them were music students studying with Wainani Yim, .who, I learned from the students and some subsequent research, is a well-known and beloved Hawaiian recording artist and master of the ukulele. Apparently People come from all over the world to hear and take lessons from Wainani Yim.  I told Ms. Yim that I was a piano teacher but that I was planning on taking up the ukulele when I returned home from our vacation. She told me that she, too is a pianist and that I should look her up next time I'm in Honolulu and that she'd give me some free lessons. I hope to be able to take her up on her offer and that I'll be able to play a little bit of ukulele by that point. Ah, vacation dreams!  After the ukulele concert we sought out some lunch and found something good at a nearby ABC store.
 ...a sort of Hawaiian-style Dollar General where one can find inexpensive souvenirs.  We were told by a local that ABC stands for All Blocks Covered.
 ...that sold Poke Bowls, a Hawaiian dish that consists of one's choice of raw fish and vegetables over rice. 
 ...which we ate at a picnic bench in a nearby park.  Then we headed back to the Hale Koa, stopping to smell - and snap - the flowers along the way.      We were picked up at the Hale Koa in an airport shuttle driven by a friendly lady who was happy to answer any questions we had about Hawaii. I asked her about where Obama lived and went to school and she offered to drive us by his school and the apartment building where he lived with his mother.
 This is across the street from where Obama lived. I misunderstood the shuttle driver and thought she meant that he lived in this green apartment building. I think She actually meant that he lived in the high rise. Anyway, Obama lived on this street. I think. 
 But in truth we weren't too sad because we knew we'd soon be saying "Aloha" to Hilo Airport, 
   ...Continued from yesterday: On Tuesday morning we had breakfast again at the Hale Koa Koko Cafe. I tried the vegetarian quinoa, scrambled eggs, hash browns,  ...French toast and banana bread pudding, 
  After breakfast we walked,  
 ...which we took across town then switched to the number 1 bus, 
 We were most interested in an exhibit on the internment of American citizens of Japanese descent in Hawaii during World War II n a dreadful camp on the island of Oahu called Honouliuli  After our tour of the museum we took the number 1 bus back downtown to see the Iolani Palace,  ...which was home to the royal rulers of Hawaii until 1893 when Queen Liluokalani was overthrown and the Hawaiian monarchy ended.
 ...including the hale koa, or palace garrison, 
 After we'd had a look at the Iolani Palace we crossed the street to see the famous statue of King Kamehameha I, who in 1795 conquered and unified all the Hawaiian islands and instituted the Hawaiian monarchy.  Then we walked a couple of blocks to see the Hawaiian Mission Houses Historic Site, location of the oldest frame houses in Hawaii, built by American missionaries in the 1820's and 1830's.   Then we took the bus back to Waikiki and, since the day was hot and it seemed not right to stay on Waikiki Beach without once going into the water, we took a dip in the ocean.  Not being a swimmer, I generally don't go into the ocean beyond ankle-deep, if at all. But the water at Waikiki was placid and calm enough even for an aquaphobe like me to wade out far enough for a decent dip.  We returned to the Koko Cafe for the fabulous dinner buffet. Among the offerings:              
 The salad bar:   The dessert bar:        
 I had:   All divinely yummy! After dinner we walked along the beach checking out the beach bars of the hotels in search of some Hawaiian music. We heard some wonderful music coming from the terrace of the Halekulani Hotel,  ...so we entered through the hotel lobby,   ...to the terrace bar where I had a sparkling water and Tom ordered a frozen beer, which was an ice-cold beer with frozen foam, good and cold but, he concluded, the frozen foam was probably an acquired taste.  We sat in the bar for a while and listened to the beautiful music,  Then we walked through downtown Waikiki,   ...and along the beach, 
 ...where we did our laundry. …Continued from yesterday: We started out Monday morning with breakfast at the Koko Café, one of the Hale Koa restaurants, that serves up the absolutely best breakfast buffet on the planet,  ...not to mention one of the best views.  The food was so good,         ...and there was such a variety of dishes,       ...including this old Army classic, 
 ...that one felt a bit overwhelmed by all the choices.    ...but in a good way.     After breakfast it was back to the bus stop, where I took advantage of the wait.  The Honolulu bus costs only one dollar for seniors, as Tom and myself are. But in order to snag the senior price one is required to show one’s Medicare card to the bus driver. I found this kind of embarrassing, akin to a feeling of being forced to show to a stranger something indiscreet that should be disclosed only in the privacy of a doctor's office. But what the heck, saved us a buck-fifty each per pop. Our plan for the day was to visit the Bishop Museum, Hawaii's largest museum of the culture and natural history of Hawaii and the Pacific Islands. To get to the museum we took the number 42 bus downtown then transferred to the number 2, which took us to the museum. At our transfer point we took a rest stop at a McDonald's, where it came to my attention that they sold Haupia Pies.  Now, I'd had a McDonald's Haupia Pie - like a hot apple pie but with a sort of sweet coconut cream filling instead the standard apple filling - once before on my first trip to Kauai back in 2013. At that time I thought this pie was about the best thing I'd ever put into my mouth. So, by lucky happenstance coming across a Haupia Pie once again, I of course had to carpe diem. Or carpe piem. And once again, it was a mouthful of heaven on earth. I dared not look at the calorie count posted on the menu board.   After our Haupia Pie break we caught the bus to the Bishop Museum, ...which was, surprisingly, tucked back in an unassuming residential neighborhood,   ...that suddenly opened up to the beautiful museum grounds. 
 View from the museum grounds.  We spent the day visiting the many fascinating exhibits on Hawaiian and Pacific Island culture.      After we finished visiting the Bishop Museum we took our buses back to Waikiki then walked back to The Seaside (see yesterday's post) for the dinner special,  
 After dinner we strolled through a couple of Waikiki's outdoor markets,  
...to the beach, from where we caught a nice view of Diamond Head in the sunset.  We walked back to our hotel along the beach,    
 While walking along the beach we'd passed some hotel beach-side bars in which there were musicians singing and playing traditional Hawaiian music. Tom and I were hoping there might be some live Hawaiian music at the Hale Koa bar and there was in fact a singer/guitarist there, but alas, his style was more of the Eagles/Country Western genre, which reminded us of the singers who used to perform in the Officers' and NCO/Enlisted clubs in Germany back in our day. But then the Hale Koa is, after all an American Army post. Though not like any Army post either of us had ever worked at.  ...Continued from yesterday:  Our first day in Honolulu, Easter Sunday, we left the Hale Koa,
 …and walked towards the commercial district of Waikiki,   
 ...where the food was good, the staff friendly and the breakfast price was right.   
  
 …from where we took the bus to downtown Honolulu. 
 ...a ten-story building on the Honolulu Harbor built in the 1926 that was for decades the tallest building in Honolulu, and the first sight of that city seen by ships approaching the harbor. 
 The campus:      Which begs the question: Can you imagine if you went to school here trying to get any studying done?
  
 ...for the noon Easter mass.  
 …Honolulu’s China Town,      
   ...bowls of the most delicious duck pho, mine with wide noodles, 
 After lunch we strolled around China Town a while longer,  …then made out way to the bus stop that would take us back to Waikiki and the Hale Koa. 
 ...then for dinner we grabbed a couple of wraps from the PX,  ..to eat in our room. However I discovered at the PX some Peeps Oreos which, Of course, I could not resist buying.  In truth they were a weence disappointing in taste, neither Peeps nor Oreo,  …but I guess that was actually a good thing as it kept me from scarfing down the whole package.
To be continued… ...Continued from yesterday: We arrived in Honolulu at 8:30 pm Hawaii time, which was 11:30 pm California time. We took a Speedi Shuttle - the cheapest mode of transportation from the airport to Waikiki - FYI, reserve a seat in advance - to Fort Derussy, an American military facility on Waikiki Beach on which is located the Hale Koa (which means "House of the Warrior" in Hawaiian), a hotel available for use by active duty and retired members of the military and their families. We'd stayed at the Hale Koa on our first visit to Hawaii two years ago (see post from 4/2/2015), but when we arrived at the open air lobby,       ...we were as dazzled as on our first time.
 Our room. 
 ...and by day.  
 ...opens out to the city on one side,  ...and onto to the hotel grounds below on the other.        ...where there are shops,  
 
 ...one of them on the beach, 
 ...one of them on the beach, 
 ...a gym, all kinds of family entertainment in the evening, ...and a botanical garden,       ...that opens to a lovely spot on Waikiki Beach,   ...with a splendid view of Diamond Head. 
 ...and spending a little more time just listening to the lovely Hawaiian music, 
 However Tom and I ended up spending little of our time in Honolulu at the hotel or on the beach.
We had other places to go and things to see. To be continued... …Continued from yesterday: The 7-year drought that California has been under finally broke this winter with torrents of rain that have replenished the water table and, among other benefits, covered the normally brown arid hills of Malibu with a carpet of desert flowers. And so on Thursday morning Tom, myself, and our California hosts headed up the Pacific Coast Highway,  
 Our hiking trail.  We hiked, taking in the scenery along the way,      
 ...and the narrow,  …and among the flowers,                  …until the path became too rocky and treacherous,     ...at which point we headed back to the trail head,  ...where we stopped for a little snack,  ...then we headed back home.  By coincidence, the day before a 69-year-old United Airlines passenger was dragged off a plane at Chicago O'Hare for refusing to give up his seat (see post from 4/13/2017), Tom and I were also United Airlines passengers with a flight out of O'Hare,  ...our layover between Columbus and Los Angeles, where we were headed for a visit with our daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren. Truth to tell, I'm glad we were flying United through Chicago the day before that horrific event rather than the day after; I can imagine the residual shock, outrage, collective weltschmerz of airline passengers that next day - especially the passengers populating the United terminal of Chicago O'Hare - would have sucked the flavor out of the trip. But on the day of our trip we were blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to one unfortunate fellow passenger as we strolled through the terminal during our three-hour layover. As for me, I like airports. They feel to me like little indoor cities, places out of place and time, far from the everyday routine, places of brief respite from the normal obligations and responsibilities that pull at us all day long. And just as some cities are bigger or nicer or more interesting than others, the same is true of airport terminals; and like the city on the outskirts of which it resides, Chicago O'Hare is to me one of the biggest, nicest, and most interesting airports of them all. And so last Saturday we spent a pleasant afternoon between flights exploring the neighborhood of the United Terminal: 
  
 ...the dinosaur,   ...the electron microscope,  ...the upscale shops and restaurants,   
 ...and stopping at a little food court we found tucked away around a corner that appeared to be the preferred chow-down spot of airport personnel and flight crew members,  ...and where we grabbed some yummy Manchu Wok.   After dinner we continued our walk and discovered a Children's Museum,   ...a museum dedicated to World War II Navy pilot and hero "Butch" O'Hare,  
 ...awesome bathrooms where the commodes were wrapped in rotating seat covers that changed for each new patron,  ..and even a pet rest room.   Walking on a little further we found an area called The Rotunda,  ...that offered even more amenities for travel-weary passengers.  Such a pleasant place did Tom and I find the United Terminal of Chicago O'Hare Airport that under normal circumstances we likely would have been only too glad to volunteer to be bumped for a few hours or even, if the price and perks were right and a hotel room thrown in, overnight. And yet there are some times when even such an airline-ticket-voucher hound as myself does not wish or absolutely cannot afford to relinquish one's seat for any price to accommodate an airline's bottom line; and for me, as for passenger Dr. David Dao the following evening, this was one of those times. Early the following afternoon I had a very important birthday party to get to. Unlike Dr. Dao, I was able to be where I needed to be.  To be continued...
 By now the image has gone exponentially viral, around the world and across the universe: 
 As everyone now knows – but here’s a quick recap for anyone who still might not – last Sunday night as the passengers of a United flight from Chicago to Louisville were preparing to board it was announced that the flight had been over-booked and four bump-volunteers were requested to give up their seats in exchange for a $400 voucher. Except that it turned out the problem wasn’t that the flight was over-booked, but that the flight was full and there were four United flight crew members who needed a lift from Chicago to Louisville. And so the decision was made by whoever makes such decisions that four passengers would be bumped to give up their seats to the United crew members, who apparently needed to be in Louisville to staff a flight taking off from that city. After all the passengers were on board and seated it was announced that four volunteers were still needed and that the voucher award had gone up to $800. But there were still no takers, and here’s where the story gets a little fuzzy: United claims that the offer went up to $1,000, but the none of the passengers interviewed afterwards say that they heard an offer of $1,000. In any case, at that point the United staff decided to involuntary-bump four passengers, possibly chosen by computer-roulette with some airline staff decision involved. Three of the four passengers chosen to lose their seats grudgingly deplaned; but the fourth, a 69-year-old Asian-American doctor, refused to leave his seat. He told the flight attendant that he was a doctor, that he needed to be back at work in the morning, that he had patients who needed to see him. The flight crew finding themselves between a hard place and this rock of a passenger, called the airport police, three of whom came on board and, as the passengers attest and the videos reveal, proceeded to drag the old man, bloodied and screaming, along the floor to the exit, his baseball cap knocked from his head, his glasses falling off his face and his shirt pulled up to reveal his bare midriff. Meanwhile the other passengers shouted frantically at the airport police to stop while they aimed their only weapons and took the now infamous and ubiquitously-posted videos of the event that has detonated an explosion of world-wide outrage against United Airlines, along with a $250 million drop in that company’s stock market shares,  ...and quite possibly an Airline Spring of Revolution among passengers who, like Dr. David Dao, are mad as hell and are not going to take it anymore.  But here’s what I wonder: what was it that compelled the elderly doctor from Kentucky to be the one to start the revolution? In his situation I can imagine myself being steamed and fuming, but I cannot imagine myself having the nerve to stand up – or rather, sit up – to three burly police officers ordering me off the plane. I wonder: from where did David Dao pull up his courage? Was it that he needed to get back to his patients who needed him? Or was there some other reason, some thing or person besides his work that was so important to him, so needed by him that he must at all costs get back home in time? Or could it be that Dr. Dao sensed that if it had been an older white doctor who’d refused to relinquish his seat for the reason that he had to get back to his patients he would have been shown respect commensurate with his age and profession? That the police would certainly not have been called? Or maybe, having been treated too often as an Asian rather than as an American, as an Other, as a not-quite-first-class citizen, might it be that he had finally reached the point where he had no more rat’s tails left to give? But surely Dr. Dao could never have dreamed that for his refusal to give up for the convenience of the airline his right to a seat for which he’d paid, for his refusal to concede that his work and plans were less important than someone else’s, that for those offenses he’d be dragged along the floor like the most despicable criminal, injured, degraded, his humiliation posted for the whole word to see. And in his worst moments of pain, shame and anger, how could Dr. Dao possibly have foreseen that his ordeal would elevate him, battered and bleeding, to the station of hero for the air-traveling masses, avatar of the annoyed, aggrieved, jet-lagged millions who believe that they’ve been mistreated to feed the greed of the airlines, any more than the airline crew and airport police could have fathomed that this uncooperative Asian man whom they thought nothing of man-handling as if he were not an aging, fragile human being who bruises, bleeds and feels,
  Surely United Airlines could have arranged some alternate mode of transport for four of it employees from one of the world’s biggest airports rather than to bully four passengers out of their seats. But apparently this style of bullying has been so much the standard operating procedure to United Airlines that it wasn’t even considered bullying but rather the legal right of the airline. Now, hopefully United Airline and its fellow companies have learned otherwise. As I write this Dr. Dao is recovering in a Chicago hospital from his injuries and is planning a lawsuit against United Airlines. It will take United Airlines much longer to recover the injuries it has inflicted on itself. References
http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/united-faces-more-questions-as-dragged-passenger-hires-high-powered-attorney/ar-BBzJ7GE?ocid=UP97DHP https://www.nytimes.com/2017/04/10/business/united-flight-passenger-dragged.html?_r=0 http://money.cnn.com/2017/04/11/news/companies/united-48-hours-passenger/http://money.cnn.com/2017/04/11/news/companies/united-48-hours-passenger/ |
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