Waikīkī when you can Waimānalo?

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Today the folks headed out to other islands. They'll continue on in Kaua'i, Maui and the Big Island for another week.

We all suited up and devoted our morning to "better beach": pails, chairs, umbrellas, towels, boogie boards, and not really enough sunscreen. We Continentals have to make a conscious effort not to need to be running off to do the next thing, but it was well worth it! We spent a good several hours with the surf and sand.

Of course, there was a next thing to run off to eventually, and a next thing after that.

The owners of our rental establishment had recommended a local place, just down the road, for horse and pony rides, and I thought this would be the perfect thing for our 7-year-old travel companion's birthday present. What we didn't think about was that stables operate on island time. I had started making exploratory phone calls a day or two ago, and eventually reached the proprietor, who suggested Friday afternoon and advised that I call back on Friday morning to arrange a time. I'm a "let's fix the time right now" kind of person, but this is a vacation, so I just went along and agreed to call back. Of course, we started calling on Friday... and calling... and calling... and then we reached the proprietor, who failed to remember us... and then he gave us a general time that would be good to come over but also advised us to call first. Once we were all cleaned up from our beach session, we started calling... and calling... and panicking, and looking frantically in the phone book for other stables... and not finding any, and panicking. This is, after all, our last full day, and did I mention that the sun sets ridiculously early in tropical regions?! So we worry about running out of daylight, and we can't figure out whether "come around 4" or "call first" should take precedence in this laid-back town.

There just aren't any other good stable options given our time constraints, so we caution our 7-year-old that we can't make any promises and that we're trying our best and that we've all got to be cool like Fonzie, and she's remarkably easygoing about the whole thing, at least so far. We've got enough time before our "appointment" to satisfy another travel goal: a stop at the Dave's Hawaiian Ice Cream in Waimānalo Town. Ice cream salves many a 7-year-old anxiety, and it's pretty good for grown-ups, too. As always, I gravitate toward flavors I've never heard of in colors I've never seen in nature, which leads me to ube. Tasty enough, but no match for coconut.

We bravely venture out to the stables, and sure enough, the laid-back proprietor is there, setting up for a party, mildly surprised to see us but perfectly hospitable. He disappears for a moment and reappears in the parking area with a tiny, saddled Shetland pony. Handing off the lead to dad, he points us toward a corral, asks that we keep the gate closed, and disappears again. I guess we're on our own! Fortunately, dad has a clue or two about horse etiquette and our pony looks like he's seen ruder mainlanders than us. LG is thrilled, and not the least bit afraid of this little pet, which makes for a happy ride for everyone. Mom, dad and I take turns with the lead, going in circles in this little cliffside corral with spectacular views of the ocean and Mānana Island. Dad coaches LG on how to control the pony, and after a while she wants to try it on her own. When the lead comes off, the pony stays mellow, and calmly but firmly walks himself over to the exit gate. Dad steps in again, and effectively herds the little pony around in circles.

This is when things get pretty cool. LG, an observant kid, announces that she would like to dismount and walk the pony around on a lead so that the pony will learn to respect and follow her the way it does Dad. All this totally on her own. She puts conscious effort into cultivating a relationship with this pony, then re-mounts to try again. The pony calmly but firmly heads for the exit gate. Oh, well. She feels great, confident, and we're proud, and now we really are out of daylight. We return the pony and that's when we learn that the stable owner only wants $10! We insist on giving him more, which is perhaps a pretty mainlander thing to do.

What's great about this kid is how she can go from pony ride to sushi bar without hardly blinking. We had been looking forward to Hawai'ian sushi all week and set aside this night on our own, after the folks headed out, to make it happen. We dug through the guidebooks and found several highly-rated establishments in Waikīkī, and one modest place just down the highway in Kailua. Figuring that Waikīkī is a huge hassle and that any sushi in Hawai'i is bound to be pretty good, we went to the unheralded Sushi Kai and were well-rewarded for supporting local business! The restaurant was cozy, but we got a table right away. The atmosphere was sophisticated, and we were transfixed by the giant flat-screen TV showing some kind of North Shore surfing documentary. The sushi and other dishes were fantastic. We made a point of sampling as many different menu items as we could, including three appetizers and two desserts, and were bowled over when the tiny little bill arrived. Wow! Can we move in here?

We stayed "local" all day, exploring little windward-side businesses and neighborhoods, and were just fantastically impressed by it all. We're just continually reminded how lucky we are to be here in Waimānalo, going "local" if not wholly "native", and enjoying a true getaway. Hotels, shops, crowds, nightlife, kitsch, $$ in Waikīkī? No contest!

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Photos

Toes, with lizard
Note the sticky sand and the super-attractive tropical "swell". No, not on the lizard.