Hawaii part two: It's got to be better than part one, at least

April 24, 2016

I walked back alone and boarded the MS Noordam again. Unable to sleep I simply wandered around the ship until dawn. I felt totally broken by the departure of Dea. It was just so completely unfair. I felt devastated, but, at the same time, I have to honest, it was still quite fun to walk around the ship with nobody else around. As morning came the breakfast buffet opened up and a few passengers appeared. By 7.10am I was up on the top deck just in time to watch a British Airways flight rise into the skies and circle around high above. I waved, just as I promised Dea that I would. She didn't see me of course, because her flight was delayed, and left fifteen minutes later, but I waved at some people, and that was enough.

When Dea looked down out of the window of her plane at the cruise ship fifteen minutes later, she did not see me, and that is because I had already rushed away to get off the boat. I most certainly needed to get off it in order to clear my head and, as so often is the case, I thought going for a bike ride might help. No problems getting the bike off the ship here of course, and I was soon chalking up country number 48 under my wheels.

Any hope that Hawaii would soon lift my spirits was hampered by the number of homeless people that I saw. It was staggering. First I rode past a park, and it was like a little tent city, and I wondered what was going on, until I realised. And then I cycled further, past people lying in bus stops, and at intersections. They were just lying under blankets or tarps, a bundle of possessions next to them on the ground, or in a trolley. And around them cars drove past like they weren't there.

I found my way to a beach, and tried to see if I could find the Hawaii from the movies. Sure, there were palm trees, and people jogging and skipping and walking their dogs, and in the water I could see surfers and paddle boarders, but it just didn't seem quite right. I couldn't shake this problem. This sight of all these homeless people really got to me. I cycled further, and there were nice bicycle paths too, that led me through Honolulu. But they just showed me more and more of this problem. At one point the path rounded a golf course, which was surrounded by a chain-link fence. On one side of this fence wealthy men in chinos swung 9-irons, and on the other another tent city, and an open grass space with men and women lying under clothes. I wondered was this what capitalism brought. And I wondered how anyone could go about their business in good conscience with such a massive problem staring them in the face. In all the places I'd travelled I had never seen anything like this. And in the United States of America. I was blown away.

I didn't want to take photos of the homeless close up, but you can see some tents there by the fence, behind which is the golf course

My cycling eventually brought me out to a place named Diamond Head. By the time I parked my bike up at this tourist attraction I was actually already in the middle of a volcanic crater, although fortunately it was long extinct and had the appearance of a dry grassy meadow. I'd cycled up (actually pushed up, I still couldn't change gear) a steep hill and then gone through a tunnel, and was now surrounded by the walls of the volcano crater. Now, the thing to do here was to hike up to the highest point on the rim of the volcano. And it was quite the thing to do, what with it being a Sunday of reasonably good weather, and so I joined a long procession of people hiking along the well-worn trail. We had to keep to the right, as a long procession of people were hiking down, too.

The hike, though not long, was quite serious, and it climbed steeply up, first by way of switchbacks, then by a long set of stairs, and finally a combination of tunnels and spiral staircases inside the earth. Finally I came out at the top, where a large number of people crowded around for the best views. I'd been wondering if the whole thing had been worth the claustrophobia, until I got up to the top myself and looked around. It was a breathtaking view. The crater looked huge from this vantage point, and to the left of it stretched the white-towers of Honolulu, perhaps best seen from this angle. The rest of the 360 degree panorama was taken up by the brilliant blue of the Pacific. I have to say that these photos absolutely do not come close to doing it justice, but I took them, so, you might as well take a look. But imagine it like this, but better.

This is half the crater. It wouldn't all fit in the frame, obviously

On my ride back I realised I had a bit of a problem, as I urgently needed to get my country-sign photo in, especially as I'd probably never be allowed into the United States ever again. I remembered seeing a building on the way out that had looked up to the job, with the stars and stripes painted on it and the word Hawaii too, but the issue was that I had no way to make the 48. I mean, I probably could have rounded up enough homeless people to get 48 fingers in the photo, and that would have been somewhat relevant to my experience too, but it also seemed somehow entirely inappropriate. So I racked my brains trying to think of a way to do it. I had no pen or paper with me, no electrical tape either. All I had was two dollars. I stopped at a 7-eleven and went inside to see if inspiration would hit me. It did. My two dollars was well spent:

I rode the short distance to the building where I planned to take the photo and then tried to twist the red candy I'd bought into the desired number shapes. This did not go as well as I imagined. I had hoped they would stick together somehow, and I'd thought they'd somehow be easy to hold up as a 4 and an 8. They weren't. I also kept eating them. But luckily there were lots in the packet, and I remained both calm and resilient. I managed to get them into the right shapes and laid them on top of my pannier so they could just be seen in the photo, which I got a passer-by to quickly snap for me. Then I ate them.

Country Number 48 - United States of America

As I continued my return journey I took a different route and stopped at another beach. This one was somehow much better than the last. The sun was out now, which helps with beaches I suppose, and it was also next to a park, and there were loads of people out having a good time. There were stalls and barbecues and a really nice atmosphere, that warmed me to Hawaii. I swam in the sea and laid in the park and appreciated the good side of Honolulu. But my thoughts were elsewhere. Dea was already halfway back to Denmark by now, flying over the mainland U.S. somewhere. I hoped she was alright.

I dreaded going back to the ship but I had little choice in the matter now. I boarded shortly before we set sail once more. As usual I went up to the top deck to watch us depart, but unusually it seemed that every single other passenger had had the same idea. There was pretty much nowhere to stand and I didn't feel like being close to other people now. The previous day's altercation with the German man had left me feeling anxious about meeting him again, and somehow anxious about old cruise ship passengers in general. I felt so alone now. So I went up to the only place that nobody else was, my old reliable sports court, and I watched us depart from Hawaii through the netting that surrounded it. It was rather like being in a prison, and that was quite appropriate, because in a way now I was.

Today's ride: 28 km (17 miles)
Total: 48,640 km (30,205 miles)

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