I’m in Honolulu.

Yes, it’s my first time in Hawaii.  Yes, I’m excited to be here.  No, I didn’t bring a camera.

Other bloggers give day-by-day accounts of the wonderful time they’re having.  That’s just not me.  I’m a terrible travel writer and have no desire to recount the feel of the wind blowing up the gorge to the Pali Lookout and the strange, pearly texture of the sand on the North Shore.   You can get all that stuff from the travel guides.

Pali Lookout. No, I didn't take this picture.

So, what will I tell you about Hawaii?  How about things I didn’t expect.

Having known a few South Pacific Islanders in my time, I’d expect that the ubiquitous shops selling “island wear” would carry something over a size 12.  Nope.  Now, I’ve lost some weight, but 12 is still a little tight under the arms.

There are no Bank of America branches.

All the chain stores and restaurants from California are here, so I got my “fix” of Tortilla Soup from Islands.

It doesn’t rain much (on this side of the mountain range – I understand the windward side is different).

No local restaurants serve poi.

No one has offered me a lei (although several drunk guys from New Zealand offered me a lay).  

Okay, I apologize for that pun.  But I couldn’t resist.  And it’s true.

You can fly between any two islands for $39 round trip.

“W” is pronounced like “V” in all Hawaiian words.

Shave Ice is good.  Especially when you’re having a hot flash.

I’m flying to Maui tomorrow.  And, maybe on Saturday, I’ll fly to the big island and take a helicopter charter over the volcano.  Actual lava.  That ought to inspire even me to make like a travel writer.