Flight of the Grandparents

Coco, Viva and Mystiko. PHOTO: KCS

Remember when a trip from California to Hawaii was a five-hour plane flight? Coupled with a Mai Tai or two? You were greeted at the Honolulu airport by a lovely wahine who placed a lei around your neck? You were overwhelmed by warm, tropical fragrances?

Not today. Or more precisely, last Monday. Not with a recent rise in COVID cases in the islands.

Of course I date myself when I describe the way it used to be. Today we can travel practically anywhere in the world with an electronic screen and a keystroke.

That very modernism was the difficulty for us -- grandma and grandpa -- as we fumbled and grumbled through the airports on our way to Kauai to see our daughter and two grandchildren. Most airplane travelers to the islands are the younger tech-savvy types who are not fearful of downloads, screenshots and Qr codes.

"Do you need some help?" said a young couple behind us as we tried to locate our Qr codes. We were obviously strangers in a strange, electronic land.

The state of Hawaii requires proof of a negative COVID test within 72 hours of your flight, downloaded or printed. A Qr code (the little square with squiggly lines)  is necessary for each leg of your flight. It reveals everything about you including the name of your first pet. All incoming flights go through Honolulu.

Our traveling time was 13-hours, which included a three-hour layover at the Honolulu airport. That is, from airport shuttle to arrival at our daughter's home on Kauai. Lucky for me, I cannot stay awake that long. Regenerative naps have become de rigueur.

All seats were occupied during both legs of our trip, like eggs in a carton. Masks were required.

"I wish that guy would cover his nose," said my partner known to her grandchildren as Coco.

Her point was emphasized by occasional sneezing by fellow passengers, the most efficient method for spreading the virus.

Note to self: stay covered but don't try to feed yourself with mask on.

At the Kauai airport in Lihue we were waylaid by the National Guard, while younger travelers sped through check-points like Indy-500 racers. We were horse-and-buggy travelers.

"We need to see your test results," said the guy in camouflage.

I proudly pulled up a screenshot of my negative results.

"I cannot see the date of this test," he said.

He was correct. It was cut off at the bottom. I'm still learning how to type with my thumbs.

Fortunately we had printed copies of our test results on paper -- remember paper? This was a stroke of pure, neurotic luck. More fumbling to find said papers.

Finally free on the island, all we had to do was call a taxi for a short jaunt to our car rental agency, Island Cars, where cheapskates like us can rent a used car that has been broken-in (not into).

Rental cars are going for as much as $500 per day in the islands. Our rate was much better but still more than what we paid a year ago.

"You got a great rate!" said the woman at the agency. "It's a good thing you reserved early. Rates are much higher today."

"Great!" I said, feeling like I was losing money to save money.

The agency had sold most of its fleet during the COVID lockdown. As the islands have opened up, demand has increased while supply is severely limited.

"We have this Chevy Sonic ready for you," she said. 

Sonic? Don't ask. We could wait an hour or so for that Nissan Versa which needed cleaning.

"We'll take the super Sonic." 

Both compact vehicles require youthful agility to be seated. I complimented myself for maintaining regular yoga practice. Those downward dogs can pay off.

And it's all worth it.

When we met our beautiful daughter and two grandchildren with hugs for the first time in more than a year, the great value of our journey was confirmed.

A hug in this case was better than a lei.