We took a 6am Uber taxi to the Honolulu Airport. The streets were empty, and so was the airport. Check-in was quick and uneventful. We had tons of extra time waiting for our 9:30 flight to Auckland. At 2pm we passed through the International Date Line. Champagne was served on the plane. We arrived in Auckland at 5pm, January 1, 2017, Auckland time. We’d missed New Year’s Eve completely!
Once through airport security, we got some New Zealand currency from the ATM and bought 2 New Zealand (Spark) phone cards for our phones. We finagled bus tickets ($3 NZ per person) and loaded our luggage and golf clubs aboard for the 40-minute ride up to Botany Downs Centre. We dragged our luggage the last 10 minutes to our apartment where we’d booked our first 10 nights. We found the key as pre-arranged and checked ourselves into a pretty nice 2-bedroom, 2-bath apartment with good wi-fi, satellite TV, and comfortable beds. We unpacked and headed back across the road to the Botany Town Center, a shopping complex. Everything was closed – it was New Year’s Day. We finally found one open restaurant and shared a burger and coke. Back to the apartment, and early to bed.
(The next Monday Tim DID take that helicopter ride, and according to him it was worth the wait!)
Tim was going on a helicopter ride. He was picked up at 9:50, but returned to the room at 1pm. The ride was postponed to January 2, due to President Obama flying out of the airport. It was a cloudy day, so he probably wouldn’t have had as good a view as he might have anyway.
Sue spent an hour and a half on the phone, trying to negotiate a partial refund with Expedia. We took the ‘Pink Line’ shuttle to Ala Moana Shopping Center. We ate in the food court – it was so crowded and busy with Japanese tourists that it felt like we might as well be in Tokyo.
Street dancers giving Max a bit of encouragement.
Sue and Alex went for a long walk along the canal while the boys played with Max. For supper we went to the California Pizza Kitchen on Kalakaua. A highlight for me was taking Max to watch the live band playing in the shopping center courtyard – and watching Max watch the drummer. He seems to have an excellent sense of rhythm, and may well be a drummer himself one day. When we got back to the hotel we said our farewells to Tim, Alex, and Max. We’ll be getting up early tomorrow morning, before they wake up, heading to the airport and the next leg of our winter adventure. We’ll surely miss them. They will spend another week here in Waikiki before heading back home to the cold white north.
A hike through Wa’ahila Ridge State Recreation Area.
As good as it gets: sand castles on the beach in Waikiki.
A hike through Wa’ahila Ridge State Recreation Area.
A hike through Wa’ahila Ridge State Recreation Area.
Max and Opa check out the beach on our morning walk.
Fun times at the beach.
More fun at the beach.
Checking out the view from the hotel room balcony.
We took the ‘Pink Line’ hotel shuttle bus down to Denny’s for our breakfast this morning. The highlight should have been the ‘grand slam’ breakfast, but today it was the ‘Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer’ kid’s special pancake breakfast, complete with chocolate milk in a ‘Rudolph’ cup. And Rudolph ears and antlers for Max. And a Rudoph red plastic nose (that didn’t fit Max’s cute little nose, but clamped onto my schnoz no problem!)
At Denny’s for a ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ special breakfast.
After breakfast we went across the street to visit the Halekulani Hotel, one of the most impressive 5-star hotels on the strip. Sue, Alex, and I stayed there in 1992, when a ‘travel agent discount’ put it in our price range. Not anymore! Sue and Alex continued scouting out expensive hotels and shops in the area while the boys headed back to the hotel.
Just before 4 o’clock we all headed down to the pickup spot to get on a bus which would take us to the ‘Chief’s Luau’. The bus ride was about 45 minutes, and took us past Diamond Head all the way to Sea Life Park. We waited while about 10 other busloads unloaded, and then filed into the Luau area and found our table. Turned out our ‘cheap’ ($100US) tickets got us almost as close to the stage as the high-end (purple wrist bands instead of our goldenrod ones) $172 tickets. But we only got ONE free mai tai, while the deluxers got three. We were encouraged to walk around and look at some ‘local’ crafts and trinkets before we were called by table to file by the buffet. Same paper plates and plastic cutlery for all levels of tickets here. And the ceremonial roasted pig had now been turned into warming trays of something that looked like pulled-pork in gravy, or chicken pieces in gravy, or cooked fish in gravy.
After we’d had our dinner it was time for the show. The chief is a large Samoan man. He spent the next couple of hours encouraging us to give a loud yell and applaud anyone and everyone who’d had a birthday or anniversary in the last few years. And he called said people to the stage, and asked them their name and where they came from. And between the crowd’s cheers and chief’s interviews assorted costumed dancers came on the stage and demonstrated their skills. It seemed to go on a quite a bit too long, and it was all we could do to keep Max awake so he’d see the highlight of the whole evening, the ‘fire dancers’. But he persevered, and so did we. And the finale was nearly worth the wait. Ironically, just when the big chief finally started his fire by rubbing sticks together, the skies opened and showered us with a misty rain! But the dancers carried on despite the mini-shower. And as soon as it started it was over. And so was the show, and we were all herded back to our respective buses. Max was fast asleep on his parents’ lap, and couldn’t even be roused enough to change out of his dinosaur t-shirt into his dinosaur pajamas. Happy and exhausted. Another day in paradise.
A change of pace: We picked up McDonalds for breakfast and had it in the hotel room. Max especially loved it. Then Tim and I took an Uber taxi to the Ala Wai Golf Course, just across the canal from our hotel. I’d called ahead – no reservations accepted, but the pro shop suggested we go ‘stand-by’ and we’d probably get on. Which we did. As soon as we arrived. Had a bit of a misty shower on the first tee, but it quickly subsided and we really didn’t even get wet. We were teamed up with a couple of local guys and had a very enjoyable round. The greens were not in very good shape, and the course is certainly not one of the better courses in the area – but we had a great time. After all, we were golfing! And back home people were just recuperating from a weekend of shoveling, and anticipating (what else?) another big winter storm.
When we got back to the hotel, Sue, Alex, and Max were just back from 3 hours at the beach. Good times! Happy hour. And for supper, Tim and Alex went out to a nice restaurant while Sue and I ‘babysat’ Max. We went back to the McDonalds right next to our hotel and brought back our ‘happy meals’ to eat in our room. We’d just put Max to bed when the kids returned from their ‘date’.
This morning we walked down to ‘Eggs ‘n Things’ for breakfast. We joined a large group of hungry (mostly Japanese) tourists sitting at outdoor tables, waiting to be seated in the restaurant. After an over an hour wait we directed to our upstairs table where we enjoyed another great breakfast. After breakfast we took the shuttle back to the Aston Hotel, then started hiking up the road to the entrance to the Diamond Head Trail. Max was even less enthusiastic about walking than Tim was; Tim and I took turns carrying him on our shoulders. Once we got on the trail we continued going up until we entered the actual ‘punch bowl’ of the volcano. Tim paid the $1 entry fee for each of us.
We continued along the trail. We were not alone. About 45,260 tourists had the same idea at exactly the same time. The hike up the trail was the easy part – it was the jostling and navigating through the maze of other hikers that was the hard part. And Max wasn’t having any fun at all. We were three quarters of the way up when Alex decided they’d had enough. Sue and I carried on. Then came the steep part – including the long climb up the stairs carved into the rock, through tunnels and along the ridge, until we finally got to the top of the lookout that is at the top of Diamond Head. A quick photo. More jostling and squeezing our way through and around other iphone-camera-toting tourists. And that was it! We were heading back down. All the way Sue and I kept a lookout for our kids. We hurried all the way back down to the entry gate without encountering them. Sue thought they might have taken a taxi back to the hotel. No, I don’t think so. And then, not more than 20 minutes later, there they were, coming down the trail. They too had gone to the top of Diamond Head, even seen us at the top, they were not far behind us. Okay, enough hiking. Tim hailed an Uber taxi for the group. A few minutes later we were back in our hotel room, tired, hot, but happy.
Hike up Diamond Head.Hike down Diamond Head
After a relaxing afternoon (and another great happy hour in the hotel room), we headed out for supper. Tim had made a reservation for us at the Hula Grill, a fancy restaurant at the Outrigger Waikiki. We ended up waiting for an hour before a table opened up for us! I’d been fighting a terrible head cold ever since we arrived in Hawaii, but even that couldn’t spoil the evening as we sat outside on the balcony overlooking the hotel pool and the beach. Great food and great views and great times with the family.
Boxing Day in Waikiki. Max and Tim both slept in – nearly 12 hours of sleep. We had a late breakfast at the IHOP adjoining our hotel. In the afternoon we had our first (of many) happy hour in the hotel room. For supper we went to the International Market Place, just down the road from our hotel. It’s had a major overhaul since the our last visit; all the old local craft booths are gone, replaced by modern (expensive) shops and restaurants. We ate at a very busy Ramon Noodle restaurant. Here’s a little gallery of photos of Max at various restaurants in Hawaii.
Breakfast at the IHOP next to our hotel.
Max has purple burgers for supper at the Aston Hotel.
Hmmm… What shall I try first?
Slurp, slurp, slurp! Japanese food at the busy Marukame Udon restaurant.
Max gets the corn dog option at the Hula Grille.
Enjoying a seafood extravaganza at the “Crackin’ Kitchen”
Alarm woke us up at 2:30am. Picked up Mart and Virlon and Tim, Alex, and Max and were on the road to the Wpg airport by 3:30. After a week of record snowfall and cold temperatures, we were lucky that the roads were clear and driving was good this morning. The humungous Colorado blizzard that was forecast for today wouldn’t arrive until noon. Parked the van and sent an email to Walter so he’d know where we were parked when he’d pick it up later in the day. Checked in, and loaded my (double-packed) golf clubs on the oversize conveyer. Then lined up for customs. Said goodbye to Mart and Virlon, who were on their way to see Thaddeus in New Jersey.
We had a 2-hour connection time in Vancouver before arriving in Honolulu at 2pm. (Turns out many afternoon and evening flights out of Winnipeg were cancelled due to the blizzard – we were lucky!) Took a taxi to our hotel and checked in. Sue and Alex had a bit of a rigmarole checking in – turns out we did NOT get the ‘suite’ we thought we’d booked – and we finally settled for 2 adjoining rooms with twin double beds in each. Oh well, Sue will fight it out with Expedia later.
Our first night in Waikiki; supper at the Aston Hotel.
After unpacking and connecting to (surprisingly good) Wi-Fi, we went out into the neighbourhood. We took the free hotel shuttle bus all the way to the Aston Waikiki Hotel, right next to our ‘old stomping grounds’, the former Hawaiian Regent Hotel where we used to hang out 35 years ago – and had our first supper together at the Tiki Bar & Grill. Max was amazing – after staying up for more than 18 hours he was still smiling and carrying on and entertaining us! Back at the hotel he was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow. The rest of us were not far behind.
Exhausted after an incredible and incredibly LONG day.
No, I’m not blogging again. But really, I was so tired of seeing an old post about going to Palm Desert here I just had to change it. So, today is Friday. It’s the second half of November and we still haven’t had snow. Crazy!
This afternoon Sue and I are going to Winnipeg — first to do a bit of shopping, and then we’re going to friends’ house for dinner.
And now it’s almost time to go. So, adios. We’re off to Winnipeg. How’s that for excitement!
Tuesday morning we arrived in Amsterdam. Just about 12 hours sitting in an airplane seat without getting up even once! It’s raining in Amsterdam. We’re sitting in the departure lounge, waiting for our Delta flight to Minneapolis. We’ve spent our 10 Euro coupon on a muffin and coffee. Now we’ve logged onto the free airport wifi — and I check my email. Here’s one from my mom to her children: Subject: Died
What? Should I be alarmed? The internet is a bit slow here, but it doesn’t take me long to read the content: "I just read on Steinbach news. Vic Peters died yesterday 60 years old, the curler?" And then she adds, "Who will be the next . .? Mom . Have a good evening ."
Whew! That’s a relief! Had me a little “up-jeraicht” there for a minute! And then I had to laugh. Sitting there in the airport, getting a bit of a shock from my mother. And SHE is the one who always taught us to “never cry wolf”! There’s probably little point in wagering WHO will be the next because, as my sister Linda said in her reply, probably someone already was, but we don’t know him or her!
And with that our plane is boarding. Another 9 and a half hours sitting in an airplane seat. Even a guy with a great attitude can only take so much. This is not very much fun. I’m tired of turning up the volume on my earphones so I can watch the free movies. I’m tired of choosing chicken or beef every couple of hours. I’m tired of listening to that crying baby behind us. And that ‘live map’ showing the plane’s progress is boring.
We arrive in Minneapolis 15 minutes early. I guess that’s a blessing. We have to clear through customs and pick up our luggage, which means I need to drag that big golf bag around again. But that turns out to be a good thing! We decide to check with ‘Special Services’ to see if they can move us to an earlier flight home, so that we’ll arrive in Winnipeg at 7pm instead of 11:30pm. And the nice lady at the desk changes our tickets for no charge. And I check-in our luggage so that (hopefully) it will be at the airport the same time we arrive.
And so, instead of sitting at this airport for 4 or 5 hours we barely have time to take a short walk to get our legs moving. We send Alex a text and get one right back — says Max is excited to see us at the airport, too. Bonus!
The last leg of this odyssey is only an hour. The flight is not full. I see the gray grid of farmland below as we descend into Winnipeg. There’s spots where the fields are flooded. But at least most of the snow is gone — for now.
We land, deplane, wait for our luggage. The clubs are the first thing to arrive. Then the rest. A text from Alex — they are just arriving at the airport. We roll our bags out the exit and there they are, parked out front. Little Max is peering through the car window at us — a big smile on his face. Big hugs. And we’re off.
Who knew that Elvis (or is that Lyle Lovett?) hangs out at McDonalds on Fermor?
Max suggests we stop for an ice cream on the way home. He keeps looking over at me sitting beside him, a big smile, and then he can’t help but kick his legs a bit — he’s so excited! Tim pulls in at the McDonalds on Fermor. We get our ice cream.
Then we head for Steinbach and home. It’s 8:30. Sue is too tired to unpack and by 9:30 she’s in bed. I’m there a few minutes later — can’t keep my eyes open long enough to finish writing my last journal entry.
So that’s it! Again. I’m off this thing at least until the next journey. If you want to know what I had for breakfast you’ll have to ask me. Or better yet, ask Sue. She’d love to hear from you.
It’s our last day in Cape Town. Our flight leaves tonight at 10:30. It’s time to pack, to clean up the apartment and the car, to empty the fridge, carry out the garbage, and say goodbye.
Sue’s worked it out so that we’ve eaten almost all our groceries. Scrambled eggs for breakfast, a few crackers and some cheese (we’ll have that for happy hour with the remaining gin and tonic), and my little bag of biltong (I’ll take that with me on the plane for snacking.
After breakfast the clean up started in earnest. Out came the suitcases. As soon as the ‘white’ load of laundry was finished washing it was hung out on the rack on the balcony to dry. I packed the golf clubs and a few pairs of shoes into the big travel case. Then we headed down to the garage to clean and park the car. We washed it and backed it right tight against the back wall so there’d be room for a second car to park in front of it. I did my best to disconnect the battery and lock up the car the way it was when we first arrived — I’m not sure I got it back to the way it was though. The first time I disconnected the cable the remote door locks still worked! So I tried disconnecting a second cable that was still attached to the positive battery post — and then the car’s alarm went off. Full blast! Pretty loud down there in the garage! Okay, that can’t be right. So I reconnected the second cable, locked the car, and we put the big car cover over it. Done.
Back upstairs it was time to vacuum. The sheets were now dry so Sue could make the bed. I gathered up all my computer and TV cabling and paraphernalia and packed it away. We moved most of the furniture and kitchen things back to where they were when we got here. Showered. Now the towels could go into the washer.
I’d seen my buddy Mike down below and arranged that we would go out for lunch today. By 11:30 I was ready to eat something. I went downstairs and there on the sidewalk beside our building were Mike and another ‘car guard’ trying on and dividing up some used clothing they’d just received from a tenant in the building across the street. After 2 cool and rainy days, they both needed some ‘new’ clothes, and today was their lucky day! I went back upstairs and looked through the pile of now clean and folded clothes we were taking home — and dug out a few shirts and a red blanket we’d brought from home. The boys were happy to receive.
I took Mike to Rocomama’s, the hamburger place just down the street. He was extremely grateful. No one, not even his father or mother, had ever taken him out to a restaurant and bought him a meal. We ordered two big fancy burgers and a couple of small Castle lagers. And then Mike began to share a bit of his life’s story. What a sorry tale!
A blurry photo of Mike and me taken by the waiter at Rocomamas.
Born in South Africa, his mother soon took him back to her native Congo. He first met his father when he was 8 years old. That’s when his father showed up and took Mike back to Johannesburg, South Africa and ‘gave’ him to another family there. Many years later Mike learned that his mother had died shortly after he was taken away. He went to school but never really fit in with the new family. He showed me the scars on his hands, where, after getting caught stealing food, his new ‘mother’ dripped a burning plastic bag to teach him a lesson. He next moved in with his father, who now had a new wife. The father never said a kind word to Mike, and the step-mother was an alcoholic who conveniently blamed Mike for everything that was wrong in her life. So when items in the home ‘disappeared’, it was Mike who got the beatings. Finally, at the age of 12, Mike was kicked out of the house and began living on the street. His father told him that he never wanted to hear from him again. Mike eventually ended up in a “refugee camp” in Johannesburg. Nothing good came of that either — especially since Mike has no official documentation. In fact, according to Mike, the South Africans mistreated the refugees something terrible! He is an illegal, even though he was born in South Africa. He has no birth certificate. He can’t prove anything. He can’t afford a lawyer to help him either. He finally came to Cape Town early this year, hoping to find work, and he’s actually had a couple of jobs. But as soon as the South African workers find out he’s an illegal the union steps in and the company has to let him go. He’s taking away jobs from the South Africans.
So I asked Mike what he hoped for. Where would he be a month, a year, 10 years from now? He said he was determined to NOT be a beggar on the street — that as long as he was able he wanted to EARN his keep. And he believed in miracles. In fact, every morning when he opened his eyes he thanked God for that small miracle. Every day you can watch the news and hear about people who have died, who will not open their eyes again. So he was full of gratitude and full of hope. And what did he need most right now? He needed a roof over his head. He believes that if he could just scrape together one month’s rent he can manage to ‘earn’ enough parking cars to pay the next month’s rent — and that will give him security and the chance to put his resume together and hopefully land a job. Right now he needs to bring his backpack with him wherever he goes, even to a job interview, because he has no save place. And the security guard at the apartment across the street from ours has offered him a small 1-room ‘apartment’ for 400 Rand a month — that’s less then $40 Canadian.
I paid for the meal, asked the waiter to take a photo of the two of us, and we headed back. I gave Mike the 250 Rand I had in my wallet and told him we’d see him tonight when we go out for supper. He was overwhelmed.
Back in the apartment Sue was all finished packing. I carried another big garbage bag downstairs to the bins. The towels were nearly dry out on the balcony. The fridge was all cleaned out.
We had our last gin and tonic and some crackers and cheese and watched a bit of TV. We listened to the outdoor music concert that was happening all afternoon in the park across the road. The sun was shining and the temperature was 22 degrees. Not hot, but not cold either.
We went out for supper at around 6:30. We weren’t really hungry but figured we had to eat on our street one last time. Sue had a bowl of soup, I had calamari. On our way back to the apartment we stopped to say goodbye to Mike and to give him another 200 Rand. He was ecstatic.
Up in the room we did one last check and then hauled our bags, including a big heavy golf bag, down the stairs. I had to lock one set of keys into the mailbox which proved to be a bit tricky. Then I contacted Uber for a taxi which showed up at our door 3 minutes later. Mike was there to load our luggage into the Toyota. He says, “I miss you guys already.” And off we were.
We got to the airport plenty early, but Sue was determined to collect back our VAT tax and we’d read online that if we presented our receipts and showed what we’d bought to the desk at the airport we could get some credit. I was expecting the worst — a long line up and lots of hassles, but no, it really went very smoothly. There were several German tourists in the line ahead of us — they travel to South Africa more frequently and know their way around. In the end we got $31 US dollars credit on a credit card. I’m not sure it was worth the half hour we spent there, but Sue was pleased.
We boarded our plane at 10:30. It left at eleven. Right after take-off the KLM crew served us chicken wraps and quinoa. And by midnight we were snoozing peacefully on a completely packed Boeing 777 (in fact, they were looking for five volunteers to postpone their trip out of Cape Town by one day — but we declined: too many connections, too many obligations waiting at home, etc).
Here’s one from my mom to her children:
