3,000 Miles: Oahu, Part Deux

[Keep an eye out for all of the videos in this post!]

Sitting at our little hotel room desk, with my mug of Hawaiian Paradise coffee, I can't believe we're leaving Hawaii tomorrow. Back to Seattle, back to the real world. I think we're both pretty excited to face it, actually. Vacation is great, but there is something about going back to the place where things belong to you, where you have a place in the world, that is really comforting. But I wanted to share what's been shakin' around these parts for the past couple of days.

First: Johnny Depp. Yes, in case you haven't seen my Facebook in the past couple days, we realized that the filming for "Pirates of the Caribbean 4" is taking place right outside our hotel. We've been scouring for Johnny and Keira like crazy. Read about it here.

The 'Black Pearl.' Notice the gigantic camera on the

front of that helicopter. Yes! It's real!

A beautiful sunset to film during.

So, funny story. The first day we got to the resort, we talked with a woman at Guest Services who told us about the resort's incentives to take a tour of their timeshares. If we signed up to go on an hour-and-a-half tour, like going out with a realtor, we would get a sweet gift. They included things such as a spa visit, "Marriott dollars," even a snorkeling trip. What did we have our eyes set on? Dinner at one of the nicest restaurants around: Roy's. To me, it sounded like a little shack that fried up some some fish and served it with tartar sauce and hushpuppies. But we kept hearing about this place, so we decided to go for it. Plus, we had been eating on the cheap for most of our time here, so we really wanted a nice meal. And nice we got.

Our only payment was a semi-excruciating tour with the folks of Marriott Beach Club. Minimum qualification: that we make $85,000 a year combined. Oh, how I laugh. But it's not like they check our W-2's, so who were they to know? So, we got up and dressed fairly nice for our 9am appointment to make sure that we actually looked the part; i.e. that we could afford to buy a timeshare. We were escorted to this fancy-shmance 14th floor lobby where we were given free refreshments and then met with horror himself: Jason Taro. He was an obviously flamboyant gay man that had the kind of smile and laugh that you knew could explode your ears drums. His laser eyes could zap your brain from the outside, without making a mess. He was the friendliest, chattiest fellow for the first half hour while he asked us about our lives together, where we could see ourselves traveling over the next 10-50 years, and what all the timeshares in Oahu offered. Then, we came out with it: we would probably need time "to think it over once we got back to Seattle before committing to something." In other words, we weren't giving him his commission. And evil was birthed in that man. Once he found out we weren't buying that day, he was livid. He took us to see one little apartment, didn't make eye contact with us, and certainly didn't waste his breath detailing the unit. He leaned on the kitchenette counter, played with his Blackberry, while we discussed (with excess volume) if we thought the Marriott Beach Club would be an acceptable locale to dock our boat. He didn't care. It was terrifying.

But, we got one of the best meals of our lives!

We tried to look up the menu online but it's one of those places that doesn't list a menu because it's sort of up to the chef what he wants to cook that night. So all we knew was that we had a $70 credit, plus a free appetizer and free dessert. Heaven.

Spicy edamame, some type of potsticker, Hibachi salmon, cucumber and carrot salad, Hawaiian marinated pork ribs, grilled shrimp, scalloped potatoes, chocolate and raspberry soufflé, Macadamia nut tart.

Rich, decadent, tender, flaky, melt-in-your-mouth, crisp...and other adjectives that only the angels of Heaven know. It was an out of this world meal.

Yesterday was an adventure among adventures...sort of. With a total of approximately 5 hours on a bus, T's rockin' ear infection, extreme heat and extreme cold, we spent most of the day at the Polynesian Cultural Center.

And if I get to try an instrument, you know I'm in heaven...

Which is why I was pissed when this dude said that only the men get to play the drums. (Note my soliloquy towards the end of this video). Because my hand was going to shoot up when he asked for volunteers. "Women get to sit back and relax" my butt. I want to play!