They say, “It’s not what you know but who you know.” Well, I know Mindy and she knows someone who was willing to hand over a two bedroom condo for a week on The Big Island. Luckily, I was on Mindy’s guest list as a +1 and I asked Margo to join me.
An 8:11am flight Friday morning necessitated rising before 6am. The last time I was up that early, I was working in a cucumber field in Woodburn, Oregon. Hawaii is five hours behind Chicago and I landed at about 4pm. I refueled with a local brew and waited, at the airport, for Margo to arrive.
When all vacation participants were present, we ventured into downtown Kona (if you can call it a downtown) in search of dinner. Even though I’m 31, I’m pretty sure if I took a “What’s Your Real Age?” test it would clock me at no more than an 11 or 12 year old, which explains my insistence on ordering the “Pu-Pu” platter for starters.
After dinner, we meandered and I spied a little piece of home. I followed the banner like a rainbow, hoping to find my pot of gold (i.e. a Chicago dog). No luck, just a local trinket store.