Long ago, I learned how I like to travel. I like to know what it’s like to live in a place, not just pass through on my way to the next adventure.

I’m not a huge tourist person, but when you go somewhere exotic, you feel obligated to visit the popular sights. That’s how I felt about the Pearl Harbor memorial and the USS Arizona. I couldn’t be in Hawaii and not see it. I took one day off from work, rented a car, booked the ferry, and reserved an audio tour (a process that’s a little more complex because of COVID).

I rented a surf board in the morning before my tour. The water was crowded with surfers far more skilled than I was. Because I’m very much a beginner and have little control over the board, I only made half-hearted attempts to get up, worried I’d collide with someone on accident.

But the salt water and the sun and the waves are always a relaxing agent. Water has a calming, peaceful affect.

I’ve been in love with the beach for as long as I can remember.

While I wasn’t exactly in the mood for touring a WWII memorial, I was grateful I went. The USS Arizona was worth the hassle to procure tickets. It’s a pivotal moment in our country’s history.

My coworker, who was in Hawaii with me, is of Japanese decent. Some of his grandparents were in internment camps during WWII.

His grandfather was a kid in Hawaii when Pearl Harbor happened. He’d gone to play basketball with his friends, but they didn’t show up. He spent a few hours looking for them, only to return home, disgruntled that all his friends had abandoned him. He’d heard the sirens, but because the base had drills all the time, he hadn’t thought it was real.

My coworker told me about some of his favorite spots in Hawaii. Leonard’s for Portuguese pastries called Malasadas and Waiola’s for Hawaiian shaved ice mixed with ice-cream. A few times, we ate Hawaiin-style chili (with rice) and Hawaiin-style Korean Barbecue.

That’s how I like to see a place. I want the local haunts and the the local food, even if it means I stay in one place the whole time. I want to walk on the streets, sit on park benches, and find the secret coffee shop only the residents know about.

I knew I’d make it to Hawaii eventually. Getting to spend a week working there was almost better than going for vacation. It felt more real, like I belonged, not just passing through.

Photo by Dustin Belt on Unsplash

Hawaii: My Favorite Way to Travel