Musings on a Museum

A little about The Breakers  - it is a two story hotel wedged in between some major skyscraping resorts.  As the guide says ”You’ll either love it or hate it”.  It is hilariously dated-looking and could use some major TLC (note the stained bathroom mirror and the chunks of veneer, long ago fallen off the cupboards).  But, our room is clean and I am charmed by the lanai (deck) overlooking the pool and the shoji( sliding paper screen door), going out to it. This is where we are eating our take-away sushi lunch.

This morning, we walked the two blocks to Waikiki Beach for a great swim and then Doug and I wandered through some of the gardens of more upscale hotels and admired the exotic flowers.  Flora is supersized here and one feels a little like Alice, among leaves as long as your leg.

This afternoon we hit the Bishop Museum for a look at ancient Hawaii.  The building is as much a draw as its contents. 

The late afternoon and evening was spent at the poolside chatting with some Australians, moving to...where else?  ...Victoria!

We are over our jet lag and ready to roll.

Waikiki

We have arrived....looking uncool in so many ways.....wearing far too many clothes,  gazing around for directions.  In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, our luck has been outstanding.  The plane arrived on time, even a tad early.  Our camp-y hotel, The Breakers, has not compromised its ‘50s era flavour one bit .  Our dinner – compliments of Cam – was delicious. Everyone is beyond tired, but we are shunning bed until it is dark.  Tomorrow, we will feel more like blogging, but be assured, dear reader, that all is well.  Goodnight.

Blogging

"Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy".  I hope that I can make the blog work when I get away from the security of my familiar keyboard, my reliable WiFi and ergonomic office chair.  The password could be my undoing - I have changed it due to Heartbleed and the new one hangs on my memory by the whisker of a spider's web. 

Luggage Language

I have laid out my shorts, sleeveless blouses, bathing suits, socks and (not with) sandals.  The very right combination of these duds could well release my Inner Bombshell.  I must pack strategically, so I don't miss this opportunity. 

Then, there is the practical stuff -sunscreen, a very large sunhat, extra sunglasses in case I lose the usual ones, beach shoes to protect my feet from biting insects (remember 1989).  I am no stranger to sunburn and other summer maladies.

I am going to go the extra inch, and NOT take a beach towel (provided at hotel?) nor my hardcover copy of Michener's Hawaii.  Take-off in one week.