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| From Oahu |
Instead, I loafed on the beach with my depressing book about morally compromised milkmaids (Tess of d'Urbervilles yeeeaaahhhh!) and took time-lapse pictures of the increasingly crowded beach:
The view from our hotel room near Waikiki beach at sunrise:
So we only had about 1.5 days in Oahu, and naturally we decided to spend almost an entire day searching for the wreckage of Oceanic 815 because I have a lot of trouble distinguishing fantasy from reality and Ben really really wanted to find it. Supposedly Disney left it somewhere on the island. I used all my (extremely limited) interweb-fu to try and find a definite location, but all we had were some outdated Google satellite photos and obsession to fuel the journey.
Well, obsession and shave ice to fuel the journey:
We ended up walking over 2 miles up the beach where they shot the pilot, which was lovely and almost completely deserted:
But we never found the plane. We even drove up an access road at the Dillingham airfield on a tip from a local, but security fences stopped us before we got very far, and another local said it had been moved and/or sucked through a tear in the space/time continuum.
The second day was spent driving almost completely around the island before we boarded our evening flight to Kauai. We'd planned to see more beaches and a few parks in the interior, but this proved impossible due to Oahu having the worst traffic of anywhere we've been so far in the world. Worse than Bangkok, worse than Tokyo, even worse than L.A., which up until now had held the prize for making us crazy.
But here's a pretty view from the Pali lookout:
And it's hard to complain when the drive looks like this:
Waikiki zombie thanks you for your time:
