Well, that one time I went nowhere. The road to nowhere, also known as the road to Hana.
I talk (complain) a lot about how I never go anywhere. It’s mostly because I used to go a lot of places. I traveled extensively for business and slightly less extensively for pleasure.
But business travel is not nearly as nice as people think. It’s a lot of bad restaurants, last-minute flights to exotic locations like Omaha and Orlando, and terrible outfits chosen only in an attempt to look professional while living out of a suitcase. I once took something like 7 flights in 4 days and my cankles paid the price. *Swollen*
Over time, I learned some airport hacks to make things a little more interesting. Like, buying a day pass to the first-class lounge. (Heathrow is the best!) And trying out the Minute Suites micro hotel in the Philadelphia airport terminal. (Imagine a storage container with a bathroom.) You get to know the ins and outs of the various airports, kind of like Tom Hanks in the movie The Terminal.
On one particular business trip to Hawaii from Philadelphia via Los Angeles (so many miles…!!!), my coworkers and I decided we’d come too far to give up on fun. Sure, the hotel where we had our meeting was lovely, but we wanted adventure—after our Advil kicked in (because business travel = drinking).
We booked a short flight to Maui, rented a convertible, and drove the road to Hana (cue Road to Nowhere by the Talking Heads). If you’ve never taken the road to Hana, like I hadn’t, you think you’re supposed to GET TO HANA. But that’s not the point.
The point is the journey, not the destination.
Here are some shots from that day. A day that was luxurious mostly because it was carved out of very limited time and meant only for pure, decadent fun.
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