Waikiki, Spring Equinox, March 20, 2016

                                   Hibiscus, along a fence.


This morning we needed groceries, so got the car out of the parking garage for the first time, drove to Safeway, and then to a health food store, Down to Earth, near the University. That took us out of the tourist areas and into the places where locals live and work.

There are flowers everywhere, of course -- hibiscus thrive. Behind the Down to Earth store, clothes drying in the sun and breezes.

Much of the morning and afternoon was taken up with school work. We went out about 4:00 p.m., with the sun lower in the sky and the streets still thick with people. First we photographed pigeons -- this one, like many urban pigeons, is missing a few toes, but seems to do fine without. 

At the Duke's statue, a boy admiring the leaf crown and leis; 

the Duke himself draped with offerings.

 A banyan tree that had quite a few pigeons around it, both dead and alive, also a pair in a cranny either mating or fighting (sometimes hard to tell). 

A lizard that Jim spotted on one of the subsidiary trunks. 

A good-looking tourist couple. 

Jim checking out one of several pay phones along this stretch of beach.

Another statue, of fictional boy Makua and his friend the monk seal Kila, 

also with leis and flowers. 

Kids playing at the water's edge. 

A guy who has found a comfortable spot to spend the afternoon -- probably not wise to fall asleep there, however. 

Waves washing up over the sea wall. 

People lined up in the water waiting for the next big wave. 

A row of kids with cellphones and a dog. 

Passing the joint. 

Grilling dinner at the beach. 

Flamingo at a street corner.

Diamond Head Harley Davidson, for Bernadette Murphy and Carol Deptula.

We walked a few miles from near Kuhio Beach, to Fromaggio restaurant over by the university (good food, and very nice people). 

Along the way, evening reflections at the end of Ala Wai Canal (part of a system of canals built to drain the marshy land that is now Waikiki). 

Nearly full moon. 

Clouds over the mountains, with sunset colors. 

Evening skyline from the other side of the canal. 

We were cutting through the golf course, which was not precisely legit. To get out, without going half a mile in the direction opposite of where we wanted to be, we squeezed through by a gate.

Flowers (orchids?) by an apartment building.

Hawaii -- March 18 and 19, 2016

                                   View of Waikiki from the top of Diamond Head.


Jim and Teri are on the road, spending a week in Waikiki. Anthea and Regina are gainfully employed in Seattle, and for a variety of reasons couldn't join us, but we will see them for a few days at the end of the trip.

A surfer with his board paying homage to Duke Kahanamoku, the original surfer dude.

We left Anchorage on Thursday afternoon of St. Patrick's day, with gray skies and temperatures in the mid-30s after a little snowfall the evening before.

               People admiring Mt. Susitna and the Alaska Range at sunset on March 16.

We arrived in Honolulu about six hours later, plus a two-hour time difference because Hawaii-- sensibly -- does not use daylight savings time. Not much opportunity for getting out and about on Thursday evening, but we settled into our studio apartment at the Kuhio Banyan (mostly time-share condos) and slept well.

Friday morning dawned, in true Hawaii fashion, sunny with a breeze. It's been cool here, by Hawaii standards -- low 70s. We put on our walking shoes and set out for the zoo, about a mile east of our hotel, and one of our favorite places. They have flamingos.

         Flamingos at the Honolulu Zoo.

And then . .  the sun was bright, but not too bright, and breezes were sweet, and we thought -- what a great day to walk to the top of Diamond Head. So we did.

An egret along the way to Diamond Head. A friend who lives here says that they are considered pests.

Up to the peak and back to the parking lot (we had to get back to the hotel to meet a guy about a parking place, so took a cab home) got us about 8 1/2 miles of walking.

 Jim and Teri on Diamond Head (honest, Jim wore his hat almost all of the time).

                                  Evening surfing, just before sunset.

A somewhat impromptu hula class on the beach near sunset.

In the evening we went to Duke's at the Outrigger Waikiki for dinner, and to watch the sun set -- along with several thousand other people. I remarked a couple of weeks ago that there were more cameras at the start of the Iditarod 1,049-mile dog-sled race from Anchorage to Nome than dogs (1,500) and people (couple of thousand?) combined. Waikiki Beach at sunset beats that easily.

                       The last bit of sunset at Waikiki Beach.



Today we walked, mostly along the beach, to Ala Moana Mall, about two miles from the hotel.

The Sheraton's infinity pool -- the heads visible just above the water's edge are people walking along a path just below.

Morning beach time, for people and pigeons alike.

                            A child at the lagoon, making "X's" at the water's edge. 


The purpose was to meet Alaska friends (Stellavera Kilcher and her friend Mike) for lunch, and see what the biggest shopping mall for a few thousand miles had to offer.

We didn't find much to buy at the Mall, except good breads at a French bakery, St. Germaine;  and water lilies.

This evening, we chanced upon a farmers' market.

Rambutans, fruits about the size of strawberries. The red is  husk, and the fruit is inside. Here's a link to how to eat them:   http://casualkitchen.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-to-prepare-and-eat-rambutan-fruit.html

Riding the surf in an outrigger, near sunset.

A rainbow over by Diamond Head.

Man carving turtles from blocks of wood at one of the hotels.

Hula dancers at the Royal Hawaiian Center.


 By the end of the evening (after checking out the beach scene, watching a local wood carver, chancing upon a Saturday Market and seeing some hula dancing), we have walked more than eight miles. So we are accomplishing one of our goals -- walk a lot, in the sunshine and by the ocean. Meanwhile, in Anchorage five to eight inches of snow have been falling today (Saturday), causing a thirty-car pileup along Seward Highway near the middle of town, and dozens of other accidents. We are thankful to be here.

Tomorrow we plan to explore the supermarkets, having exhausted our supply of things that we brought with us, and a few leftovers (the studio has a full kitchen).

Beach time with another statue of Duke Kahanamou.


On some of the sidewalks at the corners are stones carved with words in the Hawaiian language:

The official state microbe?

Microbes gaining status – will they be official state representatives?

Image from http://www.yeastgenome.org/.


Yeast takes wheat, and grapes, and many other grains and fruits, and turns them from serviceable foods to nectar and ambrosia for the gods. The formal name for the microbe that gives both bread and beer their effervescence and intoxicating qualities is Saccharomyces cerevisiae. Saccharo = sugar; myces = fungus; and cerevisiae = “of beer.” Not coincidentally, it’s the same yeast that makes wine and ethanol, and it plays a supporting role in the culturing of some types of cheese.

Now Oregon may give Saccharomyces cerevisiae some earthly status. Oregon state house representatives passed a bill to name S. cerevisiae as the official state microbe on April 16, 2013. If the state’s Senate passes the bill and the governor signs it, Oregon will be the first state with an official microbe.

Although Oregon chose S. cerevisiae because of its connection with the microbreweries for which the state has become famous, other states might choose it for their own reasons. Iowa could adopt S. cerevisiae to represent the importance in the state’s economy of the ethanol from corn by S. cerevisiae’s hard work. California could select S. cerevisiae because it makes possible both the wine and sourdough bread that bring the state renown (although the wine connection becomes more difficult to argue each year – now, all fifty states have wineries using local fruits).

Wisconsin came close to being the first with an official microbe, Lactococcus lactis, the cheese microbe. But the Wisconsin Senate disagreed, and L. lactis continues its labors on Wisconsin’s behalf without formal recognition.

Hawaii, too, has considered the wisdom of establishing a microbe, Nesiotobacter exalbescens , in the world of symbols  that states select to characterize themselves. Unlike Saccharomyces and Lactococcus, Nesiobacter’s claim to fame is its rarity, rather than its everyday usefulness. It lives only in one  super-salty lake on an obscure island, and is of greatest interest to astrobiologists. The Hawaii legislature has yet to take action on Nesiobacter, and it, like Wisconsin’s Lactococcus, must live out its microbial adventures without recognition.

You can buy a plush Saccharomyces cerevisiae for your child’s stuffed toy collection [it looks a lot like a snoutless hamster], or earrings made in the shape of budding yeasts. You can buy it dried, in the form of sourdough starters or beer or wine yeasts, or check out the website showing experiments of all sorts that rely on it. Even without the status of Oregon’s official microbe, Saccharomyces cerevisiae will continue to entertain and nourish us in a multitude of ways.