I’m a city girl. I love the urban lifestyle: Walking to yoga, the grocery store or work. I love that I don’t have to go far for a baseball game or show. I love feeling part of something bigger than me. I love that public transportation takes me where I want or need to be.
But there are two sides to every coin and the concrete jungle has its cons: it’s crowded, noisy and expensive, to name a few.
So my recent trip to the Hawaiian island of Oahu was just the getaway I needed. Before I moved to New York, I always wanted city vacations. I visited London, Copenhagen, Chicago, Washington, Paris, Geneva, Denver, Dallas and more that are escaping my mind right now. I never sought out a tropical vacay.
This time, however, all I wanted was quiet playtime. I had dreams of surfing, zip lining and eating pineapple on the beach. None of those things happened, but I don’t care one bit. I had just the vacation I needed. It was like a yoga class, a massage and a glass of wine all wrapped in six days of sleeping on the beach, calling sandals dress shoes and playing with my favorite activity buddies.
We had 0 interest in visiting the city of Honolulu. We went to Waikiki one afternoon and got out as quickly as possible. These New Yorkers didn’t want to shop at Hermes, fight for space on the beach or go to an overpriced karaoke bar.
We wanted the opposite of New York. We wanted quiet, serene, sparse stretches of clean sand that didn’t smell bad. We found it and made ourselves comfortable quickly. Along the way, we made friends with sharks, turtles, fish and one whale. We got used to evening dips in our backyard pool with a glass of wine or a mai tai. Life is good.
Putting on pants and shoes with socks before heading to the airport was a sad moment. I might need a Hawaiian vacation every year for the rest of my life. The yin to my yang.
If annual trips are not possible, I have a zillion photos and mental images to call up when I need a reminder to find Island Time. Ahhh!