So say Guinness. Apparently it takes 119 seconds to pour the perfect pint. So do yourself a favor and pour yourself a drink. In the mean time…

I am mesmerized by the ocean. I could sit and watch waves for hours. For these are not the gentle lapping waves that inch their way gently along a shoreline, ever so gradually cloaking the sand in a fine sliver of briny water only to retreat like a fading whisper. Oh no. These are Hawaii North Shore waves. Surfer waves.

To be fair, I don’t even need surfers. The ocean, whatever its state, is always an enchanting distraction, why else do people yearn for sea views. But these waves – in winter, in Hawaii – are like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Yes, including in Scarborough. And California for that matter.

Way out to sea, from a mere ripple builds an unstoppable force, rising up into a sheer wall of water, more impressive than anything Trump could ever dream up. For a tiny moment, it peaks to a knife-edge crest before the white horses come galloping over the top, turning the wall into a rolling barrel, a beast of a wave.

Fearsome giants, the white horses fly with their wild manes streaming and nostrils flaring. Their galloping hooves churn the sea below them to a swirling white froth as they charge relentlessly to shore.

And just when you’re over-awed by the beauty and grandeur of the natural world, along comes the next wave, and then the next one. An unstoppable eternity, yet each one unique and enthralling.

Throw in a high surf advisory and the excitement and anticipation go up a notch. Time to bring on the surfers!

When we watch surfers back in SoCal, it seems there’s an awful lot of bobbing around going on, waiting for waves. Even when the waves come, a few spirited individuals will have a go while the majority continue to bob around. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s as much about embracing the surfer dude lifestyle and living the California dream as it is about riding the waves.

Here on the North Shore, it’s all about the waves. Not so much bobbing around going on – the surfers are out there for a reason, and barely a wave goes past without some gutsy guy or gal taking the bait. And so the dial on the wave watchfest goes up to the next level.

These surfers are there for the ride. No beginners can take on The Big Ones; these are the dedicated pros who’ve put in the hours, days and years of work to get to this level. Their work pays off as they embrace the massive waves, gliding effortlessly up to the crest, flying gracefully down the wall and staring into the eye of the barrel.

The level of skill, stamina and bravery of these surfers is without question. I am in awe. And them just being there adds another dimension that goes beyond their talents – it provides scale and context to the power of the sea. The surfers look so tiny and vulnerable against the enormity of the waves, and yet they prevail.

But it’s not just that. The reason this is special is because it’s quintessential Hawaii. You can keep your palm trees and beaches and volcanoes. This is where it’s at, this is what it’s about. This is the Guinness advert that captured imaginations 23 years ago by bringing to life the combination of surfing, white horses, and patience. This is what I’ll remember about Oahu. To me, this IS Hawaii. And that, my friend is worth waiting for.

Speaking of waiting for good things… that elusive Mai Tai cocktail eventually materialized, back on the balcony.

And with that, it’s time to go home.

The absolute most awesome thing about our second Airbnb was the balcony, complete with ocean views. (The least awesome thing was that it didn’t have a dishwasher – I searched high and low, opening the fridge and oven doors repeatedly thinking it must be hidden somewhere. Nope. Inevitably, we coped.)

As you can imagine, we spent some considerable time on the balcony.

For a start, Darren claimed it as his workspace, come rain or shine, from early morning when it was still pitch black throughout the rest of the working day. Any early morning zoom calls had to first contend with the cocks crowing, boldly announcing the new day followed by a cacophony of other tropical birds enthusiastically trying to outdo each other.

The balcony was mostly our after work hangout too, perfect for BBQing and playing word games. Or for just chilling out with a beer, watching the sun set over the ocean.

We fit in a fair few walks on Oahu, the favorite of which had to be the headland trail out to Ka’ena point (so good we did it twice). It was a rugged path that hugged the coastline, traversing rocks, sand and puddles, all the time in the company of humpback whales, their tell-tale blows and tail splashes far out to sea.

Ka’ena state preserve is also a protected nesting area for albatrosses. They normally spend most of their time out at sea, but lucky for us, it was prime nesting season. Bigger than the average gull (although not quite as enormous as I remember from the Disney film The Rescuers), they seem quite majestic as they soar on the thermals overhead. On the ground, not so much. Their comical waddle is more reminiscent of a drunk duck.

But they come into their own with their elaborate courting rituals. Albatrosses pair for life, so much effort goes in to finding the right partner and strengthening their bonds. They crooned and they danced, bobbing up and down and swaying from side to side. They stretched their necks to raise a squawk to the sky gods and stared lovingly into each other’s eyes before tapping their beaks together in a loving albatross kiss. It was like watching a David Attenborough wildlife extravaganza.

Various other Oahu hikes involved road tripping along the Kamehameha highway to Koko, Kuaokala, Kahuku, Kailua and Kahualoa. One of these even involved an armed forces escort, as we had to get through an air force satellite tracking station, one of those with the giant golf balls.

Being that we were on an island, there was no shortage of ocean views.

After all that walking, it’s time to partake into some of the non-spam related Hawaiian delicacies, courtesy of the many food trucks and their al fresco dining. And with the end of our month in Oahu drawing near, I can already feel a diet coming on. Just not quite yet.

Let’s go camping, he said. It’ll be fun, he said. And so we packed our two person tent (which has definitely seen better days), sleeping bags and roll mats into our luggage to accompany us to Hawaii.

The last time I camped in a tent was in Costa Rica over a year ago. Truth be told, I’m not much cut out for camping, I kinda like my home comforts too much. Nostalgic thoughts of the BaseCamp sprung to mind. All the advantages of glamping without having to actually camp. Safe and secure, with a proper bed and a proper pillow.

Still, the nights were forecast to be mild and rain-free. I told myself this would be an opportunity to experience a different aspect of Hawaii, to embrace the outdoors with sundowner drinks and romantic early morning walks.

It seems we weren’t alone in this thought. In fact camping must be quite popular at this time of year, as the beachfront campsites Darren tried to book online were full. Unperturbed, he widened the net, considered some other locations and eventually scooped up some prime beachfront spots.

Camping Attempt #1 – Waimanalo Beach

Ocean views, tick. Prime beachfront spot, umm… questionable. As long as we looked out to sea and not behind us, we were good. There were a few other normal paying campers. But over there on the boundary of the campsite, we had company.

I’m not going to judge or diss them, homelessness is a serious issue across this and many other nations. And if you’re going to be living permanently under canvas, there’s certainly worse places to be hanging out. I’m not missing the irony that they had the same awesome views as us.

At least our neighbors kept themselves to themselves, and we relaxed at our picnic table to enjoy the evening. Once we retired, it wasn’t the most peaceful of nights but the roar of the waves helped to drown out at least some of the noise.

We had another weekend trip away coming up, so a chance for Darren to redeem himself. In the meantime, Valentines Day was fast approaching. As we headed down to Three Tables Beach after work, we realized we’d been beaten to it. There, right on our spot was a little love nest being set up, complete with champagne flutes, red roses, string lights and a cutesy L-O-V-E sign.

Oh Darren, you shouldn’t have. Oh, you didn’t.

The finishing touches were made, as they erected a white lacy tent (who even knew such a thing existed?) and brought out the champagne on ice, ready to greet the happy couple. It was obviously a surprise for the lady, who was suitably and very graciously blown away, in an Instagram kind of way.

In stark contrast…

Hamiltons’ Camping Attempt #2 – Lualualei Beach

There were no other legit campers at this spot, just us and the fringe homeless. Who were right next to us this time. Our allocated parking spot was already taken. By a Chrysler that had seen better days, its windscreen and back windows smashed in, its tyres relieved of air. Obviously it had been there a while and wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, we just didn’t want our tiny rental Kia to come to the same end.

After a few drone shots at sunset, we retired to spend the evening in the car rather than sit out at the picnic table in the dark. There were plenty of comings and goings outside, it seems we had hit upon the local hot spot to exchange cash for illegal substances. As for the state of the public toilets… let’s just not go there.

Relocating from the car to the tent was a hurried affair. I didn’t sleep particularly well, on alert listening out for a car window being smashed and hoping we weren’t going to get mugged in the night. I’m pleased to report that both us and the Kia survived the night. Sorry no early morning photos though, as we just got the hell out of there pretty quickly.

I’m done with camping thanks very much. An experience I think even Darren didn’t want to repeat. In fact to truly redeem himself, he had to wine and dine me in Waikiki. Where we stayed in a safe and secure hotel room, with a proper bed and a proper pillow.

I never really understood the need to post a sign outside a store saying No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service. Surely that’s obvious? Apparently not. Not here anyway. Although it seems that where those signs might actually be useful, they absurdly don’t seem to mind. In Hawaii, sunbathers and surfers alike have no qualms whatsoever in wandering round a store half naked and barefoot. And nobody bats an eyelid. Except me of course, I did a few double takes.

I wouldn’t mind except for when I tried my luck with my own quick purchase straight off the beach. Fully clothed I might add and definitely with sandals on (I’m not one to get far barefoot). It was an impromptu trip to the supermarket as we’d only taken a meagre supply of cold beer down to the beach and needed top ups.

Long story short, I got ID’d. And obviously coming straight off the beach, I had no ID with me. No ID, no service.

I don’t want to say I pleaded (but I kind of did). Oh the irony that the shoeless people in front of me could buy what they wanted. Me, not so much. As a last resort, I blurted “But I’m nearly 50”.

With hindsight, I’m fully aware that in this scenario whether I’m 49 or 50 is not particularly relevant to my ability to purchase a couple of beers; nor is it likely to change the cashier’s decision. But it felt important to let her know just how wrong she was. 21 to ‘nearly 50’ is a lot of years. And don’t get me started on over 100% wrong. In my desperate, forlorn state, it was worth a shot. Still… you can guess the outcome. Tail between my legs, I retreated to the beach empty handed, much to Darren’s disappointment.

When we weren’t drinking beer on the beach, we managed to fit in some other fun and games. Kayaking over a mile out to an ocean sand bank in Kaneohe Bay was a real treat. Not only did we have the odd turtle pop up to say hello, but the color of the water was what tropical island aqua marine dreams are made of.

And Darren did some diving. Words cannot do it justice, just take a look at the pictures his dive leader snapped instead.

Not to be outdone, I took myself off for a run around the beaches of Honolulu. Can’t compete with Darren’s dive but hey, beggars and choosers and all that, and not such a bad view after all.

At least I finished up with a beer, without having to prove how many years over 21 I am 😋

It’s not all sun, sea and Mai Tai’s in Hawaii, oh no. Been here for ages already and not had a single Mai Tai. A few gin and tonics maybe but the classic Hawaiian cocktail is still on my to do list before we leave. As for the sun… turns out it’s a fickle “now you see it, now you don’t” visitor up here on the north shore of Oahu, and we’ve had our fair share of torrential rain. I know you Brits have been facing the beast from the east, bringing icy blasts of wind and snow but hey, it’s all relative.

But in Hawaii, where there be rain, there be rainbows 🌈 Magnificent, stunning, full-on meet in the middle rainbows. The kind of happy cheery rainbows that take you right back to Bungle, Zippy and George.

On the more adventurous side, I had a bash at Stand Up Paddleboarding. Which started off as Kneel Down Paddleboarding and also involved a fair bit of Sit Down Paddleboarding. Luckily, the conditions on the ‘Anahulu river were about as mill pond flat as you could get, so I just about managed to stay above and not under the water, yay. My cap did get a dunking though, having been scooped off my head by a wayward branch. Better than a poke in the eye.

For those days where we’re just too lazy to walk or paddleboard, there’s always the beach. Our Airbnb was ooh maybe a hundred yards or so from Three Tables Beach, so this quickly became our go to, armed with towels, deckchairs and beer (and/or wine and/or G&T). Perfect spot to hang out for sunset.

The weekend gave us a bit more time to get out and about to explore the island, enjoying a stroll along Lanikai beach, watching the kite surfers at Kailua beach, and checking out an amazing ridge walk up to some rather cool graffitied pill boxes left over from the Second World War.

Lanikai & Kailua:

Enough of standing around watching other people do strenuous things, time to get up onto that ridge:

One of the food highlights that the north shore is famous for is their food trucks. In particular shrimp trucks. Bubba Gump eat your heart out, Aloha shrimp is where it’s at.

Still waiting on that Hawaiian Mai Tai cocktail but in the meantime, we managed to squeeze in a brewery!

A negative COVID test was required to clear us for travel to Hawaii. So aside from the standard washing and packing normally involved before a trip, my less enjoyable preparations involved an overdue dentist session and a COVID test on the same day. Oh the trauma, first world problems.

I was somewhat wary of the COVID test, having heard the process of someone sticking a cotton bud swab up your nostrils described as being like “tickling your brain”. Turned out to be really not that bad, although I spent the rest of the evening feeling like my facial privacy had been violated, my nose making its objections known through random bouts of sneezing. Best get that out the system before we get on the plane!

We weren’t too concerned about the result, having been model lock-down citizens for three weeks at home in California but it was still a relief to know for sure the trip was in the bag. On the plus side, I’ve never seen LAX airport so quiet, and getting through security was a breeze. It was kind of comforting to know that virtually everyone else around us had also received a recent negative test result.

The flight too was eerily quiet. Bring on the pre-downloaded Bridgerton binge watch, if only to distract me from wearing my mask for such a long time.

And so the plan is to spend a month working from Hawaii. Unfortunately, we couldn’t bring the BaseCamp, so our tin palace is having a well earned break. Instead we have a couple of Airbnb’s in the North Shore area of Oahu, with maybe a spot of camping in between.

The two hour time difference means we start work at 6am, zzzzz. I’ll take it in exchange for an early work finish time. And thanks to Hawaii’s policy of no daylight saving time, we have a good few hours of sun, sea and tropical paradise before bed.

But wait, we have Sunday, the day of rest, to chill out and relax before we start the work routine. No such chance. To be fair, it didn’t make a lot of sense to have a lie in or we might struggle to get up early during the week. So Sergeant Major Darren stepped in and stepped up, with a steep and sweaty route march through the jungle. Otherwise known as the Kealia Trail. Welcome to Paradise!