Honolulu - Hawaii - USA
A Return to Paradise
The lei draped around our necks at Honolulu International Airport carried more than the sweet fragrance of plumeria—it held the weight of memory and the promise of rediscovery. As our Southwest flight touched down on January 22, 2020, Barbara's eyes sparkled with recognition and anticipation. This wasn't just another Hawaiian getaway; it was a pilgrimage back to the place where her love story began in 1956, where she and Robert had wed at the submarine base chapel at Pearl Harbor, and where her fondest memories of newlywed life were painted against the eternal canvas of Waikiki Beach.
The timing of our visit coincided with the Lunar New Year celebrations, transforming Waikiki into a vibrant tapestry of Asian cultures. Families from across the Pacific gathered to welcome the Year of the Rat, their children's laughter mixing with the eternal whisper of waves against sand. The crowds were thick, but the energy was infectious—a reminder that Hawaii has always been a crossroads of cultures, a meeting place where East truly meets West in the middle of the vast Pacific.
LOCATION | Waikiki, Honolulu, Hawaii, USA |
DATES | Jan 22 - 26, 2020 |
PHOTOS | |
LODGING | |
ARRIVAL | Southwest Airlines #198 🛫 Boeing 737-800 - N8315C Sacramento (SMF) - depart 10:35 am Honolulu (HNL) - arrive 2:40 pm |
DEPARTURE | Southwest Airlines #199 🛫 Boeing 737-800 - N8324A Honolulu (HNL) - depart 4:25 pm Sacramento (SMF) - arrive 11:35 pm |
"Aloha 'oe"
- Queen Liliuokalani's eternal farewell, echoing through every sunset at Waikiki Beach
Days & Discoveries
Jan 22 | Arrival at the "First Lady of Waikiki" After the lei greeting that marks every proper Hawaiian arrival, we made our way to the Moana Surfrider, known as the "First Lady of Waikiki." Opened on March 11, 1901, the resort was built as the first hotel in Waikiki Beach by wealthy Honolulu landowner Walter Chamberlain Peacock. The hotel originally featured 75 guestrooms that included upscale amenities like telephones, private baths, a billiard room, parlor, library, salon, and the first electric-powered elevator in the territory. Standing in the grand porte cochere, I could almost hear the ghostly whispers of a century's worth of travelers who had passed through these same doors. The hotel's 75-foot tall banyan tree was planted in 1904 by Jared Smith, Director of the Department of Agriculture Experiment Station. When planted, the tree was nearly seven feet tall and about seven years old. It now spans 150 feet across the courtyard.
The Moana Surfrider represents more than just luxurious accommodations—it's a living museum of Hawaiian hospitality. The hotel has witnessed the transformation of Waikiki from a swampy backwater area surrounded by duck ponds and taro fields into the world's most famous beach destination. The Historic Hotels of America recognition underscores its significance as a National Register of Historic Places property. |      |
Jan 23 | Malasadas, Beach Bliss, and Banyan Tree Serenades Our first full day began with Ann's pilgrimage to Leonard's Bakery, a walk that took her approximately 1.5 miles southeast from the hotel through the heart of Kapahulu. The route traced Kalakaua Avenue to Kapahulu Avenue, passing the International Market Place and into the residential neighborhood where locals still gather for their morning coffee and conversation.
Leonard's Bakery opened in 1952 when Margaret and Frank Leonard Rego Sr. decided to honor their Portuguese heritage. Though Portuguese immigrants brought the malasada to Hawaii at the turn of the 20th century, Leonard's brought it to a wider audience. The bakery sold over 15,000 malasadas daily by 2012, or over 160 million since its opening. Leonard's Bakery continues the tradition started by Frank's grandparents, who arrived from Portugal's Azores islands in 1882. Back at the hotel, we claimed our spot on the beach loungers, settling into the rhythm that has defined Waikiki for generations. The beach in front of the Moana offers a front-row seat to one of nature's most consistent daily performances—the gentle breaking of waves that have traveled thousands of miles across the Pacific to reach this narrow stretch of sand. As evening approached, we found our way to the Beach Bar beneath the century-old banyan tree. The live music drifted through the branches as the sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink. This scene has played out countless times since the famous radio show "Hawaii Calls" was broadcast from the hotel's courtyard starting in 1934, reaching 60 different countries and staying on the air for 40 years. |      |
Jan 24 | Unexpected Coast Guard Adventure Our afternoon boat tour from Ala Wai Boat Harbor was meant to be a peaceful cruise toward Diamond Head and beyond. The weather was perfect—trade winds provided just enough breeze to keep us comfortable under the Hawaiian sun. About 45 minutes into our journey, approximately half a mile offshore, our tranquil afternoon took an unexpected turn.
A U.S. Coast Guard vessel approached with the unmistakable authority of federal law enforcement. For 45 minutes, we twelve passengers found ourselves floating witnesses to a case of mistaken identity that could have been lifted from a maritime mystery novel. The Coast Guard had been searching for a vessel with an outstanding warrant, and our boat shared the same name as the one they sought. The captain remained calm as Coast Guard officers examined the boat's papers and serial numbers. We passengers, meanwhile, made the best of our unscheduled pause, snacking and chatting while bobbing on the gentle swells of the Pacific. The Coast Guard's professionalism was evident throughout—they were thorough but courteous and apologetic for the inconvenience once they confirmed we were not the vessel they sought. This unexpected encounter reminded us that even in paradise, the machinery of law and order continues its vigilant work. The Pacific, vast as it is, remains a highway for both legitimate commerce and those who would abuse its openness. Once cleared, we continued our cruise past the iconic profile of Diamond Head, that extinct volcanic crater that has served as Honolulu's most recognizable landmark for countless generations. |      |
Jan 25 | Retracing Love's Geography from Waikiki to Windward Shores Renting a car in Waikiki for a single day is often more economical than dealing with overnight parking fees that can exceed daily rental rates. Our one-day vehicle became a time machine, allowing us to trace the geography of Barbara's memories from nearly seven decades past.
Our first stop was deeply personal—Barbara's old apartment building at 264 Kaiulani Avenue, now known as the Ala Wai Gardens Apartments. The structure stood remarkably unchanged, a stubborn monument to simpler times amidst Waikiki's relentless modernization. The cinderblock construction that had provided shelter for newlyweds Robert and Barbara in 1956 remained intact, though the rent had undoubtedly multiplied beyond recognition.
From there, we journeyed to Pearl Harbor, where Barbara and Robert had exchanged vows at the Submarine Memorial Chapel, the oldest chapel at Pearl Harbor, built during World War II in remembrance of all the submariners who died in that conflict. The dedication ceremony on September 10, 1944, was attended by more than 400 personnel, including Admiral Chester Nimitz. The USS Arizona Memorial and surrounding visitor center provided sobering context to the world that Barbara and Robert entered as newlyweds in 1956, just eleven years after the war's end.
Our route to the North Shore took us past Aulani Resort by Disney—an impeccably designed property that somehow felt incongruous with the authentic Hawaiian experience we were seeking. While Disney's attention to detail is undeniable, we wondered why anyone would choose a manufactured paradise when the real thing surrounded us at every turn.
The pineapple plantation stop offered sweet, sun-warmed fruit that tasted nothing like its mainland counterparts. Fresh pineapple in Hawaii carries the essence of volcanic soil and tropical rain, each bite a concentrated burst of paradise.
The North Shore revealed itself in full winter fury, with warning signs posted at every beach about dangerous surf conditions. Waves towered 15-20 feet, drawing a handful of expert surfers while crowds gathered safely on shore to witness nature's raw power. The surf was mesmerizing—walls of blue-green water that spoke to the Pacific's vast energy, concentrated and released on these narrow strips of sand.
Our final stop was the Nuʻuanu Pali Lookout, where Highway 61 now carries thousands of daily commuters through what Barbara remembered as a rural mountain road. In the 1950s, she and Robert would drive this route to buy fresh fruit from local farmers. Now, the Pali Lookout offers spectacular views of Oahu's windward coast and serves as a reminder of the island's dramatic geological history. |        |
Jan 26 | Last Hours and Lingering Memories Our final morning checkout was bittersweet, but our flight wasn't until late afternoon—a gift of bonus hours in paradise. We lingered in the hotel lobby and beach patio area, absorbing the atmosphere that has made the Moana Surfrider legendary for more than a century.
Lunch at the International Market Place provided our final taste of Waikiki's evolution. The marketplace first opened in 1956 as a commercial, retail, and entertainment center. After closing for complete renovation in 2013, it reopened on August 25, 2016.
The original marketplace was lush, mysterious, and enchanting, a faux-Polynesian fantasyland for the Mad Men era. All around were dangling vines, tikis, cascades, foot bridges crossing dark pools, and kooky surprises, like the clocks set seven minutes behind on "Hawaiian Time." Barbara's memories of the old marketplace included evenings listening to Don Ho, a local entertainer doing free shows at bars and venues throughout Waikiki.
Her work for an attorney who counted Alfred Apaka and Henry Kaiser among his clients brought her into contact with the movers and shakers of 1950s Hawaii—men who were literally building the modern paradise we now know. These weren't distant historical figures to Barbara; they were real people who shaped her daily life during that magical first year of marriage. |     |
Our Learnings
The First Lady of Waikiki: A Century of Aloha
The Moana Surfrider stands as more than a hotel—it's a repository of Hawaiian hospitality that has welcomed travelers for over 120 years. From royalty to Hollywood stars, from honeymooners to business titans, the "First Lady of Waikiki" has hosted them all beneath her gracious roof and spreading banyan tree. The hotel's survival through world wars, economic upheavals, and countless renovations proves that authentic hospitality transcends trends and time.
Portuguese Heritage Meets Island Soul
Leonard's Bakery represents the beautiful fusion of cultures that defines Hawaii. Portuguese traditions, brought by plantation workers in the 1800s, evolved into a uniquely Hawaiian institution that continues to define comfort food for locals and visitors alike. The malasada's journey from Azores necessity to Hawaiian icon illustrates how immigrant cultures don't just survive in the islands—they thrive and transform into something entirely new yet rooted in tradition.
Paradise Lost and Found Again
The International Market Place embodies Hawaii's transformation from a territorial outpost to a global destination. Its evolution from authentic Polynesian kitsch to upscale shopping center reflects both the benefits and losses that come with progress. While the new marketplace serves modern consumers with efficiency and elegance, something ineffable was lost when the tree houses came down and the "Hawaiian Time" clocks stopped running seven minutes behind the rest of the world.
Where Love and Sacrifice Converge
Pearl Harbor remains hallowed ground where personal history intersects with national memory. Barbara's wedding at the submarine base chapel connects her love story to the broader narrative of America's Pacific presence and the sacrifices made by submariners during World War II. The chapel, built by volunteers using materials scrounged from around Oahu, embodies the resourcefulness and dedication that defined the Greatest Generation.
The Pacific's Eternal Power Display
The North Shore's winter swells remind us that Hawaii's beauty comes with power and unpredictability. The same Pacific that brings gentle trade winds and warm temperatures also generates the massive waves that command respect and inspire awe. Standing before 20-foot waves humbles even the most seasoned traveler, serving as a reminder that nature, not humanity, ultimately controls these islands floating in the world's largest ocean.
Post-Script: Unaware Witnesses to History in the Making
While we walked the beaches of Waikiki in late January 2020, reports were just beginning to emerge from China about a cluster of pneumonia cases in Wuhan, Hubei Province. China had reported the first death from the novel coronavirus on January 11, 2020, and published a draft genome of the newly discovered coronavirus. The World Health Organization was informed of several cases of pneumonia of unknown etiology on December 31, 2019.
By January 21, 2020, worldwide, 282 laboratory-confirmed cases of the 2019 Novel Coronavirus had been reported in four countries: China (278 cases), Thailand (2 cases), Japan (1 case) and the Republic of Korea (1 case). The WHO declared the novel coronavirus outbreak a Public Health Emergency of International Concern on January 30, 2020.
With so many Asian tourists celebrating Lunar New Year in Honolulu during our visit, we were likely among the early potential exposures to what would become known as COVID-19, though we had no awareness of the brewing global crisis. Barbara, in her late eighties, used handrails throughout Honolulu for stability—a perfectly normal practice that would become fraught with concern just weeks later.
Upon our return, Barbara experienced what she later described as "the worst flu" she ever remembered having, complete with respiratory issues that matched what we would later recognize as COVID-19 symptoms. At the time, we attributed it to travel fatigue and seasonal illness. In the subsequent five years since the pandemic declaration, Barbara never tested positive for COVID-19—perhaps that early potential exposure provided some protection, or perhaps we were simply fortunate.
Our innocent January journey to paradise occurred at the exact moment when the world was about to change forever. In those final days before global awareness, before mask mandates and social distancing, we experienced the last breath of the old normal—touching handrails without thought, sharing close quarters on boats and in restaurants, breathing the same air as hundreds of international travelers without a care in the world.
Looking back, our Honolulu adventure feels like a photograph of the world as it was—carefree, connected, and blissfully unaware of what was coming. Those five days in paradise weren't just a return to Barbara's romantic past; they were our unknowing farewell to a world that was about to close its borders, ground its flights, and learn to fear the very human connections that make travel so magical.
In Waikiki, where the waves have washed the shore for millennia, where hotel registers have recorded the dreams of travelers for over a century, and where the trade winds carry both sweet plumeria and the whispers of history, we added our own small chapter to the endless story of human wandering. That our chapter concluded just as the world prepared to pause its collective journey makes it all the more precious in memory—a reminder that every trip, every sunset, every shared malasada carries the possibility of being the last of its kind.
The lei wilts, the tan fades, but memories of paradise linger forever—especially when they capture a moment just before the world learned to be afraid.