Hawaii and Back, Vol. 4 Kauai, Day 4 Flying LAX to LIH

 

Day 4

 

After two days and three nights in the City by the Bay, we prepared for a long day of flying.

But first we attended the optional “Shell Owners Update,” a thinly disguised means of selling more timeshare units, which is offered with every timeshare visit. The incentive, this day, was a $100 USD Visa debit card and a free week of our choice at one of hundreds of timeshare villas in the world. The so-called Update does actually train us in the best use of our timeshare property. However, in exchange, we must listen to an enthusiastic and well-rehearsed sales-talk on the benefits of buying X number of additional shares, tailored to our portfolio and our needs.

In this case, the presenter recommended we buy another fifteen hundred points in Shell Vacation Club properties, at a cost of some $11,000. She, Pamela, did a topnotch job of explaining the many marvelous benefits of same. This would bring us to a total of 7000 annual points and the prestigious level of “Choice” which granted even more goodies. Yes, it would be nice to own more shares. But, there was that little problem of writing a quite large check. Uncertain as to whether our children and grandchildren would really want to inherit this, we opted out, this time. Maybe someday…Sigh.

 

Promptly at five to eleven, we arrived at the front entrance, dragging our suitcases behind, ready to board the shuttle for SFO where we would catch the airplane for our third leg of this journey, SFO to LAX. Our shuttle was due between 11:00 and 11:15 AM, allowing plenty of leeway for a 2:00 PM flight. By 11:18 AM, starting to worry, Dave approached the doorman for assistance. A quick check of his computer showed that we had no such reservation. Thus alarmed, we summoned the concierge who (we thought) had booked us, on our arrival Friday night. The source of the error was never uncovered. Heated words were exchanged between three hotel employees.

Throughout this time, Dave remained unflappable. After all, experience has revealed that stuff happens, i.e. successful vacationing requires flexibility. After a few tense moments, the Doorman and Bell Captain settled down to work out an alternate means of transportation to the airport.

By God’s grace the streets were less crowded than they were Friday.

Checking in, it stung a bit to fork over another $50 USD to check our bags to Lihue, Hawaii, especially that one suitcase was now patched up with three safety pins. But, why worry, Happy vacationing requires flexibility, don’t you know?

We arrived with time to spare and proceeded to our appointed gate, Number B45, only to note the sign “Flight 1242 to LAX (with connections to LIH) was moved to Gate B41. Easy. No problem. Pick up your luggage and move a few gates away. Plenty of time. On the way, I perused the overhead display which listed all arriving and departing flights. Our flight was listed as “On time,” and leaving from Gate B43. Well, now, that’s real flexibility, isn’t it?

Evidence showed some confusion. Duh!

A totally different flight was arriving at Gate B45. Gate B43 was completely empty, except for one staff person at the counter.

Dave and I approached her to inquire. She knew nothing, however she acted immediately. “Wait here, please,” she offered as she scurried off to confer with the Delta rep at the Gate B41 desk. We watched, in calm repose as the two of them conferred, hurriedly typed on the computer and stared at the screen.

Realizing we were alone, we left our post and moved to Gate B41 where customers filed past the gate and hurried down the walkway, towing their little pull-a-boards behind. Clearly another flight was loading. Not ours. This flight was leaving for LAX, with two empty seats. Uh…er…wait for us!  

“The rules do not allow me to permit you onto this flight, sir,” she said. “You have already checked your bags on Flight 1215 right?”

“Well, yeah,” we agreed.

“You cannot fly on a separate flight from your luggage,” she stated, unequivocally—another federal regulation, designed to keep us safe from terrorists. (In addition, we already knew that no passenger can board who has checked in within the last thirty minutes.)

“But…” Dave protested.

Maybe it was his charm and good looks. Umm…on second thought…maybe it was luck, grace, or bending the rules, plain and simple.

After more whirring, pecking and conferring, she changed her mind and pointed out, “If I put you on this plane, you must understand that your luggage will probably not make it onto your flight to Hawaii.”

“I understand,” we chorused, eagerly, knowing we had supplies for two days in our carry-ons.

“But, if you wait for flight 1215 to arrive you will probably not make your Hawaii connection,” she continued.

“When is Flight 1215 leaving?”

“It isn’t even here yet. Probably not until 3:30 PM.”

“Too late,” I said. “Put us on this plane.”

Zoom. Tap-tap-tap. Whirl. Print. “Here are your new boarding passes. Hurry.”

We were the last ones down the walkway. Last to board. Other passengers frowned at us, plainly understanding who had held up the plane.

Off we flew to Los Angeles, relieved, slightly worried but flexible as always.

Mindful of the gigantic size of LAX we wondered: Would we arrive at the correct terminal? Thankfully, yes, not only was it the same terminal, it was the same concourse and not far away.

At last our flight to Lihue was called. Again we had the “Sky Pass” which allowed us to board in second place, right after “Passengers with special needs and families with small children.” Again, we paid extra for the “comfort seats.” This time we also took advantage of the airline’s complimentary offer to ticket our roll-aboard bags, at the gate. We have taken advantage of this option in the past, and always appreciated the freedom—no struggling down the narrow aisle, no heavy lifting. The bags would be waiting from us outside the exit door as we disembarked. More on that later.

Our flight over the ocean was another learning experience. The seats were equipped with personal tablets that lifted out of a secret compartment. In time we managed to learn the finger-tapping and scraping technique required to move through the extensive menu of games, music, movies and entertainment.

As the family computer guru, I was chagrinned to find that my finger didn’t work, whereas Dave’s fat finger was charmed. After an hour or so of borrowing Dave’s magic finger I stumbled upon the secret. For some reason the back of my fingernail worked. Go figure.

Arriving in Lihue, we felt right at home. This place was familiar, but for one change—our carry-ons were not waiting at the exit. “Pick them up at the carousel,” we were told. Darn it! Flexible, again. So much for walking directly to the Hertz rental car.

Onward to the carousel, we waited with the others as bag after bag popped out of a hidden birth canal like so many guppies. Thinking we were done, we grabbed two carry-ons, only to pause in surprise as my checked bag emerged, its tell-tale signature ribbon waving. Well, yeah! Our luck was holding. Minutes later the rumbling stopped. No more bags. Oh-oh, Dave’s didn’t make it. Must have been the safety pins. Did they hold? Or were Dave’s belongings spread all over the bowels of the LAX automatic baggage sorting labyrinth?

Another wait at the baggage agent’s window, fumbling through our stuff to locate the necessary claim check, resulted in another round of tapping on a computer keyboard. Ultimately she looked up. “Your bag is in San Francisco.”

“Oh,” Dave’s voice fell.

“It will arrive in twenty-four hours. Give me your address and phone number, please.”

Dragging our bodies and our stuff, we boarded the last van to Hertz. Another wait. At last, we were settled in our very own rental car, in control again.

After only one or two wrong turns (it was dark), after nine PM, we arrived at Kauai Coast Resort at the Beach Boy.

 Check-in went well, except we got the last suite, three stories up, with no elevator. Our other choice was a much smaller studio apartment on the first floor. No bellman was around. Remaining flexible we huffed three heavy bags and miscellaneous small parcels up three flights, reminding ourselves what great exercise this would be for a week.

As promised, Dave’s bag arrived the next evening, none the worse for wear, this time, delivered to our door.

Hawaii and Back, Vol. 4 Kauai, Day 3 San Francisco

DAY 3

Awake at five, again. Hung out, read and noshed until time for our tour of the city. Weather forecast was for high in the nineties, again, and so we opted for the small air-conditioned van tour over the open air bus hop-on-hop-off tour.

Later in the day we were so happy with our choice. The seats were comfortable, our driver excellent. This was going to be a three and one-half hour tour, lasting from 11:00 AM until 3:30 PM, we supposed. Instead the driver proceeded from hotel to hotel, dodging traffic for the first half hour, picking up his patrons. We learned this difference, already, compared to the bus tours, which pick up at one location only. Even so, it felt as if we were already on tour, as our congenial driver pointed out one famous landmark after another. A quick calculation told us that this would probably shorten our tour by one hour. Wrong again! Indeed it lengthened the tour to four and one-half hours. More on that later.

One advantage of being first on, last off, is that we got our pick of seats--two abreast on the driver side, one abreast on the opposite side. We opted for the single seats, each with its own picture window. Good choice.

In addition to the most famous tourist high spots—Alcatraz, Golden Gate Bridge, Knob Hill, Chinatown, Union Square, Bay Bridge, Lombardy Street, Cable Cars--our tour covered many others, such as the Art Museum, the City Office Buildings, the beaches and notable quaint architectural designs, among them the “Painted Lady” homes featuring bowed out front windows These homes are narrow, tall and built side to side bordering the sidewalks, with no space in between the walls.

We paused at a rather ordinary looking corner which was very famous during the hippie era. This was the corner of Haight and Ashbury, after which the hippie movement was named. Our driver pointed out the residences of several in-famous characters of that time, among them Janis Joplin.

From time to time, our van stopped to let us out for a stretch. Each stop was carefully arranged so that we could take photos of a famous landmark. Our driver knew just the right spot for the best possible shot. “Follow me,” he would instruct, as he walked a few steps to get in the optimal position. And then he offered to take photos of each couple posed in front of the scene. I was a bit surprised to learn there was an actual sandy beach in San Francisco.

In addition to being an excellent driver, historical expert and guide to the city, he could operate all common brands of cameras. He was fluent in at least three languages, speaking English and Italian, over the speaker, while conversing in Spanish with his friend in the co-pilot’s seat. We overheard two elderly folks speaking Chinese, as well. Before the day was out I learned several Italian words. Mostly all you do it trill the English equivalent and add an “ito” or “ata” while waving your hands.

We crossed the famous Golden Gate Bridge and descended down, down the switch-backs to the very bottom where few people go. Here we looked up at the bridge from a "fish' eye" view. 

Having visited San Francisco many years ago, I remembered climbing a hill, but I had forgotten that there are myriad hills. Up and down we went. On one particularly steep hill, our driver laughed, “Get ready for a roller coaster ride.” We all hung on and held our collective breath, praying the brakes worked as we swooped down to a stop at the bottom.

Lombardy Street—labeled the “crookedest street in the world” is off limits to busses and vans, thankfully so. We contented ourselves with a pause and good view at the bottom.

A final long climb to the city’s overlook at “Twin Peaks” climaxed our tour. We were not disappointed. Our van paused there to allow ten minutes of jaw-dropping views. The entire city of San Francisco stretched from horizon to horizon, requiring three or four shots to take it all in. At this point, I regretted that I had forgotten how to take panoramic pictures with our camera. Too bad. However, we could appreciate this rare, cloudless, fog-less day in the West Coast queen of all cities—the City by the Bay.

Down the twisting turning hills again, a final stop at the tour company’s tiny offices, to pay our fares of $55 USD each—Senior citizen rate—use the cramped one-person toilet, help ourselves to ice water, and rest a spell, while some of us took advantage of the small restaurant next door. Others perched on the circle bench around the tree and others simply gazed around. Indeed, people-watching was the number one activity all day.

At last, the van reversed its way around the route of fine downtown hotels, disgorging its passengers until the final stop, The Donetello, where the Mercers staggered into its cool welcoming interior, happy but pooped.

 

 

Hawaii & Back Vol. 4 Kauai, Day 2 San Francisco

DAY2

Today we took a bus out to "Treasure Island" which is in the bay. Driving over the Bay Bridge, on this bluebird day, we could see the beautiful skyline of San Francisco, as well as the Golden Gate Bridge. Varieties of ships were in the famous harbor: a docked white cruise ship, a freighter floating lazily, a fire boat spraying a joyous stream of water arching high into the air, and numerous sailboats, their sails unfurled like the white wings of seagulls.

 

On the Island the "Dragon Boat Race Festival” was underway. The boats were actually racing skulls with a carved dragon decorating the front. S.F. is noted for its large Chinatown and so this event commemorated that, I suppose. There were many entertainments for children, rides, face painting, and colorful helium-filled balloons which escaped occasionally, floating up and away toward the sun.

 

We sat and watched the stage entertainment for a while--people doing tricks with hula hoops and another pair doing amazing tricks with yo-yos. I was hoping to learn how to make a hula hoop go. I have one at home that just falls off as soon as I try to whirl the thing. Darn it. There were a hundred booths selling all sorts of stuff. We bought a can of Oolong Tea and one barbecued chicken-thigh meal, with rice and macaroni salad for our lunch.

 

Then we watched the races for an hour or so. People crowded under a huge tree as the only available shade. We perched on rocks.

 

The day was really hot, clear and sunny which is unusual for this city at any time of year. As we departed we bought two frozen strawberry popsicles.

 

After riding back downtown on the bus we had six city blocks to walk. We were tired and our feet hurt, so we had to stop and rest twice. People-watching is the main entertainment. Perched on the sidewalk bench we watched street musicians and the famed cable-cars go by.

 

We felt totally out-of-place here. It was a very different world for us. As older white Mid-Westerners we were definitely the minority. There were hordes of people going every which way, mostly of mixed races, young, tall, thin and fast-paced. If you saw a rare old fat white woman, slowly walking along, you knew she must be a visitor.

Even though there is only a three hour difference, we struggled to adjust to the time differential. I had all I could do to stay awake until ten o'clock PM, and then stay asleep until six. After we got home, that afternoon, I fell asleep.

We booked a van tour for tomorrow. No walking required.

DAY 3 Tomorrow

 

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Hawaii and Back with Dave and Dorothy, Kauai Vol. 4, Day 1

DAY 1

Today we began our big adventure. It will be our fourth trip to Kauai, our favorite Hawaiian Island. Flying Delta Airlines, our plane was due to leave at 10:00 AM, leaving us ample time to breakfast at our motel and catch their shuttle out to Kent County International Airport. Our car would stay at the Inn, under their “Stay, Park and Fly” deal.

Checking in was so easy. We were the first ones to arrive, thus having the whole place to ourselves. Bad news: our Delta credit card did not provide a free bag check as we expected. We were advised that we needed the “gold” card. Bah-humbug. Thus our medium sized checked bags cost twenty-five bucks apiece. Had we known, we could have consolidated our stuff in one big bag. Oh well… as I always say, “Happy vacationing demands flexibility” (and deep pockets)

.

One layover in Minneapolis required a change of planes. As is our usual practice I led off the plane and started walking. As is his practice, Dave stopped to do something without telling me. In a moment I heard, “Dorothy, DOROTHY.” Dave drove up in one of those airport golf carts—the ones that go beep-beep demanding passage. How do you suppose they knew we were senior citizens? We beeped our way through the vast terminal from one wing to another, as the crowd melted around us, thus saving a very long walk. On this flight we paid extra for the “comfort seats,” only two abreast, with extra leg room. It was nice to sit together, with no other stranger in the middle seat. 

We ordered meals. Dave had a sandwich, which came with chips and cookies, and I had the chicken wrap which was really quite good. I gave Dave my cookies. We enjoyed watching Delta’s comedy showing us how to put on our seat belts, don the oxegon masks, and grab the seat cushion in case we had to belly flop into the ocean. But we opted out of the movie, “Terminator,” reading books, and trying, without success, to nap, instead. 

After our arrival in San Francisco, we took a shuttle van to our downtown hotel. ”One hundred thousand conventioners arrived the same day. Apparently many of them were  traveling, as the pedestrians on the sidewalks were going faster than the cars on the street. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the sights as we crept onward to our hotel. 

Arriving at the first class address, The Donnetello Hotel we felt as if we had come home, as we were welcomed in the small lobby with gracious hospitality. It was nine o’clock Western time, thirty-two hours since we left home having completed the first leg of our long journey. Hungry and tired, we dined on leftovers from the airplane—one banana, chips and a cookie. Also, we had a bag of Dave’s homemade nutty-fruity oatmeal bars. 

The Donetello, owned by Wyndham Corporation and operated by Shell Timeshare Resorts, is completely redone in Swedish Modern decor. We had a spacious corner studio with king-sized bed, two flat screen TVs, table, chair, sofa bed, frig, sink, microwave, serving dishes and utensils.

It required the full two days and three nights of our visit to figure out how to operate everything, because of the extremely modern and high-tech design. The beautiful, but mysterious, faucets, in particular, were a special challenge. Knobs, switches, locks and controls all required scrutiny, sometimes trial and error. 

It was the second day, after noticing a remote control lying in the bathroom, when I realized that the flat rectangular black glass, glued to the mirror wall in the bathroom, was actually a flat screen TV. We didn’t even attempt to program the complicated media device that replaced the traditional clock-radio. Waking up early was no problem, anyway, as we were still on Michigan time.

Dave’s bag had arrived with a broken zipper. “Does Frisco have a WalMart?” I asked. “You need a new suitcase.” 

“Not at all,” Mr. Fixit replied. “Didn’t you pack a few safety pins?”

Free Days

Coming Soon!
Four Free Days on Amazon.com
June 17-20
Grab it Quick!
First ever time free.
"The Cartel Wars," A Mike McBride Romantic Thriller
Go Here: CLICK HERE

The Cartel Wars, starring popular hero, Det. Lt. Mike McBride Jr. and his girlfriend, Juliette (Juli) Carrolle chronicles the crime-solving adventures of a cop who is stationed near the US/Mexican border. As such, he becomes involved in plenty of action as the Mexican Cartel wars spill over into the U.S. Political corruption takes him to the State House and to Washington D.C. to uncover a vile smuggling gang with tentacles into the Halls of Congress, even threatening the White House. A touch of levity and a bit of romance provide respite and soften the cruel criminal elements. A relaxing summer read, or to enjoy anytime. Recommended for romance/action/adventure/mystery lovers, 16 and up.