Nan was up first, as per usual, making a cup of tea. The alarm went off, but it seemed frightfully early: we'd made a slothful practice our whole stay in Holualoa of sleeping till we felt like getting up - which is probably why we were feeling human again. Still, we had a jeep to return and a plane to catch, so we got ourselves out the door 5 minutes early.
I remembered the instructions the landlord had provided in the PDF ... something about a shortcut from the house down to the airport, so we set off in direction Kamuela hoping that I wasn't going to miss the turnoff. And finally, there it was "something"-ini drive. Down the hill we went - all the newer roads on the Big Island seem to go straight up and down, no switch-backs - and came out on the highway from Kailua to the airport with less than a mile to the airport turnoff. Saved ourselves heaps of time!
After dropping Nanny, Julia and the luggage off, I returned the car: the process was about as painless as it comes. Saw Becky and Murphy at the airport and gave them a hug: poor Murphy looked like she'd done the holidays running marathons or something.
It was with enormous regret that I watched the Big Island disappear in the distance... no, I couldn't live there any more, but our stay had been so restorative I was sad to see it come to an end.
The less said about our flight from Honolulu to LA, the better. It seemed interminable... the trip did two things for me: firmed my resolve to drop the kilos (resolution based observing the plight of those excessively well-nourished fellow travellers nearby) and not baby-sit boys, ever. We had a couple of biligual chappies behind us who - fair enough - became a bit restless towards the end of the flight, as boys do, but their behaviour was a trial for their dad (who I sort-of felt sorry for - what do you do?) and surrounding passengers, i.e., us.
The food was pay-for, no free lunch (dinner). None of it looked particularly interesting so I opted out. They'd run out of sandwiches by the time they got to us, so Julia ended up with a tin of crisps. Whoopie.
Longest five hours in recent memory.
The landing was marketed as being of a potentially difficult, rough nature, but as it turns out, we never felt the wheels touch the runway: brilliantly smooth landing.
LA was freezing cold: 10 - 12 degrees C with a fair bit of wind to make it feel much colder. I was relieved to hear this was a bit unseasonably cold, but then, Southern California can be a very cold place one day, a blisteringly hot place the next day.
Hotel Hermosa was really very nice: excellent value for the money. Paradoxically, I was feeling a bit hungry by then, but nothing was open but fast food so I had a few of Julia's potato chips and finished her soft drink. Too tired to write in the blog, we collapsed in bed.
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