Do you like pineapple?

Woke up in New York and a mere 20 hours later we were in Maui.

Pretty much this the whole way around

We stayed on the island's north coast. A shuttle from the airport took an hour and we arrived bleary eyed and dazed, not at all ready for the stream of information the woman at the counter had prepared for us. Maps, guides, local attractions, resort rules, beaches...

"Hey, do you guys like pineapple?"

A little surprised we answered we did. We did like pineapple.

"I have a pineapple for you, wait here."

We had it for breakfast and it was incredible. We bought another later that day.

Avocado burger at the Gazebo

In fact for us, Maui was the perfect end to our trip. We walked to the market and stocked up on fruit and vegetables to eat on our porch and did very little except walk on the beach and drink cocktails in the evening.

Beaches like this

Yeah we were sad to leave New York but we were so so happy to have temperatures above freezing for a couple of days. We could look out across the beach from our room; in fact we could see all the way to the next island. In the morning we walked in the shade of the mountains and in the evening we watched the sun set over the ocean.

It was hard to fault the views

The island's volcanic origins meant the coastline was bay after sheltered bay, the sandy beaches protected by long rocky outcrops. The beaches were different to the ones we know at home; no slogging it for five minutes across the sand to reach the water. Out of the hotel and into the water in thirty seconds.

Milk costs a lot. That's the price of living in paradise.

For a place that neither of us had wanted to visit before the trip, Hawaii has become a place neither of us can wait to visit again. But next time we would want to see more of everything and probably achieve more than sitting in our hotel room and reading.

Sunset at Maui

Not that there was anything wrong with that.

Crater and cocktails

The plan worked. Monday morning found us well rested and excited to put our time in Honolulu to use. So we went to the mall.

After a very successful morning shopping (total haul; 1 x hair straightener, 1 x SIM card, 1 x jacket) we got on a bus out to the Diamond Head Crater national park.

At the hotel we were warned to wear running shoes, not thongs, definitely not high-heels. The bus dropped us outside the national park area, and we paid our entry fee of a dollar. Including the two-fifty for the bus, the walk is a great, low-cost afternoon in Waikiki.

The way up

The path wound back and forth the inside of the crater. It was steep in places, but not difficult going, especially after seeing the walking paths in Norway. Things only got tough when we got to the stairs to the bunker, which are pictured later on.

It was busy in both directions, with a lot of tourists taking advantage of the view. And it was easy to see why.

Bunker on the right, Waikiki on the left. Sky above.

The island put on a little show for us as well, with the clouds sitting nice and low on the mountains for better photos.

After the walk up it was nice to break for a while and get some photos.

Directly below the ridge was a lighthouse and the beautiful reef.

Everywhere we went the waves broke far from the shore and travelled all the way in

The combination of natural structures and the aged military infrastructure made the walk quite interesting. Running up the stairs, ducking through tunnels and into bunkers broke up the trip.

The way to the top

Ali in a tunnel

That night we returned to the not-our-hotel pool for cocktails at sunset. Ali was smart and ordered a pina colada, which was delicious. I was silly and ordered a maitai, which was mostly rum, with some spice rum added for colour.

Every drop was worth it for the view.

It was a gorgeous evening, with music, dancers and drinks.

San Diego is a really nice town.

The Liar wanted to check out some modern art in LA and, I later found out, get on a bus to Compton.  The Skeptic and I were done with LA and looking for an excuse to get out.  That excuse came in the form of a day-trip to San Diego.

Two-ish hours drive south of Los Angeles, San Diego is probably home to lots of cultural stuff (like a Zoo, some university campuses and the Chargers football team) but we didn't have time for that.  We just hammered Maggie down the 101 and eventually the 5, all the way to the coast so we could sit outside a bar at Pacific Beach, eat our last real hamburger of the trip and drink a locally brewed beer which tasted almost exactly like Carlton Draft.

Nice beach, despite the smog.  Just have a look the other way.

See?

The drive back took six-ish hours; our first real experience of LA traffic.  With two of us in the car, we were able to use the carpool lane most of the way back, so it was only the last 20 miles or so that we really slowed down, averaging three mile an hour.  We took so long, the Liar called to find out where we are which, if you know the guy, is pretty hilarious.

But we did make it back, headed to the pub and raised a whiskey to our last night in America. It had been a hell of a trip.