Pound of Flesh - Part One

The trip, first of all, was fantastic.

We left Los Angeles at about 10am on Thursday morning on a direct flight to Maui. The seats, while pretty cheap due to good planning, were less than ideal (as the understatement of the year). We were three rows up from the bathrooms in the back of the plane and across the aisle from each other. This in itself would have been a trial, as that area of the plane is notoriously congested with people going back and forth to the bathrooms. But oh there's more. All three seats on both sides of the plane in both rows behind us were filled with one large polyneasan family. The rest of the family, apparently thwarted from sitting directly adjacent to the others, were two rows in front of us taking up three seats on one side and the aisle across. So there were sixteen of them total -- all related from what I could tell. Two were toddlers. Plane ettiquite seemed to elude them, as immediately following the inital takeoff and seatbelt signs, they proceeded to yell back and forth, carry on loudly, and run the toddlers up and down the plane aisle between David and I.

Also, one of the genius mothers decided to put the diaper bag with both baby bottles up in the overhead bin directly above David's head. Anyone who has ever had a baby -- or who has half a brain -- knows that you're gonna need that one on a pretty regular basis. Diapers, pacifiers, toys, food. Yep, all in there. So she had to get up and lean over David, thrusting her protruding belly which was hanging out of her t-shirt into his face, to reach up and get it no less than a dozen times during our 5.5 hour flight. Honestly, about the fifth time she put the diaper bag BACK over his head and whacked him with her belly, I'm REALLY surprised she didn't get a piece of his mind. Thankfully, he held his tongue.

Impossible to drown out or ignore. If it was just the loud kids or the inconsiderate parents it would have been bad enough, but the men in the family (grown men) were being loud and obnoxious as well. I tried to tune it out with the in-flight movie, which was 27 Dresses. It's a really cute movie, and I had already seen it twice. I settled down to watch it a third time and pray for a time warp, but there was a problem with the video. About every fifth word cut out and the picture waved (like an old VHS tape). After about 20 grueling minutes, they restarted it again. And then ten minutes in, they restarted it AGAIN. Once it was finally up and running, I had completely and utterly lost interest. And a little of my sanity.

When we finally - finally - got to Maui, I was delighted to get off the plane. As was David. Our relief was shortlived, however. We had to wait over 40 minutes for our bags to come off the plane in the airport. They unloaded the first half of the bags and then there was some sort of "oil spillage" on the luggage dock that prevented the second set of bags from getting to the conveyor belt. We had to wait for it to be cleaned before they could unload ours. Then we were off to wait for the rental car shuttle.

By the time we got on the road from Kahuli to Lahina in our rented PT Cruiser, it was starting to rain. Not an unpleasant rain, really. Just consistent, soft, summery rain that drenches everything equally and thoroughly. We just had to laugh and embrace it. Rain or no rain, we were starving and really ready to let go of the work and travel stresses and start VACATIONING. I put a "local hawaiian" station on the radio, and we made our way into Lahina town instead of to the resort farther up in Ka'anapali. Food was priority in case - as seemed likely at this point - there was an ordeal of any sort during out check in process. We needed to refuel and recharge before facing that possibility.

We dodged raindrops from the parking area up the main street of town and ducked into an upstairs bar called "Front Street Grill." It was open air on two sides overlooking the street and ocean below and beyond, respectively. There was a Jimmy Buffet-esque guitar player/singer set up in one corner, charming the early happy hour crowd. We joined them at a table by the railing, settling in to rest for a few minutes and enjoy the music and the view of the rain bouncing off plumeria trees and hitting the ocean. There, I am pleased to report, vacation officially started in the form of the best "burger" I've ever eaten. I don't know - and we've debated it - how much hunger and desperation played a part in it, but David and I both swooned with our first bites of the Mahi Mahi Burger. Two succulent Mahi Mahi fillets with tarter sauce on a kaiser bun. It doesn't sound like anything special, but oh my dear friends it was. So good. Everything else but the rain, my wonderful husband beside me, and each magical bite fell away and stayed away for the rest of the trip.

The rest of the day held a charmed quality, and we were rosey in the glow of good food and the prospect of each other's uninterrupted company in paradise for the next six days to come. Running back to the car, we were drenched with rain and laughed in abandon. As we continued up the coast to the resort, the rain broke away and they sky brightened into a less soggy sunset. Our checkin was smooth, and we were given the second best room in the resort -- front and center ocean front room on the second to the top floor. Top floor of that same view is the only thing I can think of that would have been better. Looking straight down, we saw the spanning acres of pools and waterfalls and tropical gardens that spilled onto the boardwalk. Beyond that, the sand touched an ocean dotted with distant islands and boats.

Since we had already eaten, we freshened and headed down to the bar at Tropica for the last of happy hour. Tropica is the nicest of the three restaurants at the Westin, and far and away the superior venue. The oceanfront tables are covered by thatched umbrellas during the day and lit with tiki torches at night. On this trip, we definitely benefited from the fact that we'd already flushed out all the gems in the immediate vicinity to our hotel on our honeymoon. Tropica is definitely one of those gems. After happy hour ended there, it was just starting up at the pool bar (where happy hour runs from 8pm to 10pm). We walked over and settled in on stools, listening to the various travelers, bartenders, and island-themed music.

We eventually called it a night and crashed in our "heavenly bed" which was indeed heavenly. We left the patio door open as we fell asleep, lulled by the distant ocean and the warm breeze. (Sadly, sometime in the night David had to get up and close the door to block out the sound of what I can only assume was a really drunk woman cackling loudly from the bar or another balcony, but it was enjoyable for a while anyway.)

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Well, I feel as though I've typed forever and only made it to the end of our first day. I guess that's a sign I should, like life, take it one day at a time. I will continue the story tomorrow,