A block from our apartment there's a street named Walina, and every time I pass by I give a little "Wall-eeeee!" (in my head, not aloud, I don't think) and I keep expecting somebody to say "Eeee-vaaa!" in reply. But that rarely happens. Well, not ever.

Getting lost in Chinatown

I've started a ridiculous habit while riding my sweet bike around Honolulu on various errands to grocery stores, thrift shops, surf shops, etc. Before I leave home, I study the map very carefully and plan my route. But I don't take the map with me (because I'm not a wuss) and then, on the way back, I attempt to cleverly make my way back by some "alternate route" on "less busy streets" that is very clear in my mind. Somewhere along the way I get thoroughly lost. As in, totally going the wrong way. The other night, for instance, a good hour after I should have been home, I found myself in front of the Ala Moana Towers scratching my head because the Ala Moana Towers are exactly at the opposite end of town from where I thought I was.

In my defense, I'll say that these streets are rough if you're trying to just go with the flow and feel your way around. There is not one straight street in all the land. And breezing through an intersection I can't tell if that sign said Kapahulu or Kapiolani or Kalakaua or Kealaolu. There are nasty potholes and road construction everywhere and the bike lanes just begin and end with no warning and then you darn well better crank it because that minivan taxi that feels like it's about to eat your back wheel really is about to eat your back wheel.

While the cops insist that sidewalks are for walkers and streets are for bikes, drivers don't really acknowledge this rule. I can count on getting cut off at least a half-dozen times on any brief ride. I've tried to exert my biker authority but to no avail, and only recently have I discovered why: it's not my turn yet. There appears to be an unspoken yet carefully structured hierarchy when it comes to cutting people off, and it's based on resident seniority. The longer you've lived here, the closer you are to the front of the queue in terms of bad driving privileges. For now, that crazy cab driver out-ranks me, but I calculate that I'll be safe from all front or back bumpers by 2081.

Embracing the SPAM

Calling Hawaii home means, of course, that I have to eat -- and like -- SPAM. I consider it an honor and a duty. Else I shall return to the mainland in shame. After just three days here, I felt it was high time to try the delectable mystery meat treat. I chose my first experience carefully, in the form of SPAM Eggs Benedict at Lu Lu's, my favorite neighborhood breakfast joint so far. I was both surprised and a bit concerned when the waitress informed me she had never had anyone substitute SPAM for ham in this dish. (Had I made a terrible mistake!?) But in the end her own willingness to try it fortified my decision.


And the resulting dish was all I wanted it to be. The sweet-salty succulent taste and texture of SPAM complemented the Eggs Benedict quite well. And how can you go wrong with a product that lists among its ingredients both ham and pork. Now that is really living.

So when I found tins of SPAM in an 8-pack at Costco, I couldn't resist buying. Now we won't lack for sweet-salty protein for at least a month. Just think of the possibilities: SPAM scramble for breakfast, SPAM sandwich for lunch, grilled SPAM steak for dinner. Mmmmmm.....

Book your tickets!

After just a couple of days frantically trying out apartments (no joke, one landlord insisted on checking us out on the FBI most-wanted list) while attempting the bus system (great!), we've miraculously moved into a small third-story, 1-bedroom place about 3 blocks from Waikiki Beach. We think it's the coolest thing ever, for lots of reasons: our landlord is totally helpful, the place is almost completely furnished, the rent is decent, it's in a neighborhood we like a lot (I think there are about 20 Asian restaurants within a ten-minute walk), and it takes me 30 seconds to get to the only bus I will need to get to school.

...and I just got a sweet deal on a surfboard.

...and we live in Hawaii. Still getting used to that.

Here are a few pics:

I know it looks like our luggage just kind of threw up all over our apartment, but we think this place is so cool.