When I got off the plane, I immediately regretted not finding some way to fit my husband in the luggage. That would have really been the only way to get him to Hawaii with me. Not that I was all that fired over a tropical vacation. After all, I’m from southern California. I can go to the beach anytime and stay in any number of beach front hotels that actually look like this. Except. Not really quite like this. It was raining, first off, which is a good thing to a thirsty Angeleno like me. But stepping off the plane I soon felt the difference. Humid. A nice gentle rain. And this airport in Kona. I’ve never seen anything like this. There is no main building. In fact, everyone and everything is outside, except for a few coffee shops and souvenier shops. It’s ALL OUTSIDE. I mean no disrespect, but it looked a little like Adventureland at Disneyland.
But let me back up a bit. Back at LAX when my husband dropped me off at the kerb, who do I see stepping up onto the sidewalk but author Sue Ann Jaffarian! (She's nominated for a Lefty, the humorous novel award). Of course we were on the same flight, so we hung out, had breakfast, and generally commiserated about Publishing Today. We took our separate seats on the plane and then reunited to catch a shuttle to the Waikoloa Beach Marriott. Our driver was happy to be tour guide and showed us the sights, talking about the Big Island. In fact, at one point along the long route, he pulled over to show us a lava cave. The landscape was quite different from what I expected. We think of Waikiki when we think of Hawaii, I suppose, with white, sandy beaches and clear blue skies. But each island is very different. The Big Island of Hawaii is covered in lava fields, black rolling gobs of it festooned with sprays of yellow grass. There are hills in the distance—but we couldn’t see them until later when the clouds lifted. And there's a volcano out there, too.
The hotel gives new meaning to "always open" as there are no actual walls for most of it, being open to the ocean and the breezes. And consequently, the birds. Sparrows, that is, flying through ballrooms and such. Truly different, and truly lovely.
I settled in, got my room, sized up where my panels and Luau would be, and then started to reacquaint myself with authors I have met along the way, as well as meeting new ones, of course. And then I readied myself for my 15 minute demo of medieval weaponry. Interested attendees gathered around a table and I swung my sword and expounded on the beauty of the killing toys. (How did I get my sword, daggers, flail, and battle axe through the airport, you ask? Checked, of course, but I knew that a little x-raying would still catch the eye of TSA which, indeed, it did. After all, the helm is this giant bullet-shaped thing and I certainly would have yanked it aside to have a look. Fortunately, I stuffed the helm with my bookmarks and other material that explained what the hell I was doing [nope, not trying to conquer Hawaii]).
By then it was about time for the Luau. Unfortunately, it was not so much a luau as a selection of eats from pasta to coconut shrimp with very long lines to get it. By the time most of us got some kind of meal the entertainment in the other room was done. And then the one-act Charlie Chan play was filled to the rafters. The bevy of authors I was with decided to head to the bar instead, which meant hanging out by the infinity pool and catching some of those cool breezes since the rain finally stopped.
In the morning is my 7:30 am debutante breakfast where interested attendees can sit at my table and we can chat. And oh yes, my weapons come with me!
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