Alex Morris's Honolulu: making sense of a holiday hot spot

Trying to do this trip as cheaply as possible, I stayed at Seaside hostel in Waikiki. It was an incredibly noisy choice, but super chill and just a five-minute walk to the beach. My private room was oddly located within a dorm-style room where six young men slept. We all shared a single shower and bathroom. The toilet seat was always up. My private room was next to the bustling common area. I heard screeching women at 1am and a concerned hostel employee lecturing staff members about strangers sneaking in at night.

At nearly 36, I might be getting a little too old for this. At nearly 36, I'm not ready to let this part of my life go.

I left the hostel and walked up the street into a maze of multi-story expensive hotels and shopping centres. Waikiki is like if the beach was the mall.

Friday night I stumbled onto a Ma'ohi nui, a Tahitian dance and drumming group. Makani Tabura appears to be the ringleader, getting the tourists clapping and selecting people from the crowd to come dance.

"Always make sure you celebrate your people, your land and your culture" he said.

Afterwards he told me more about what he does - "edutaining" people. He said it's important to correct people's knowledge about Hawaii, so many people just know the Disney films. He casually mentioned to me that the US military held the native Hawaiians at gunpoint, and that's how Hawaii first became a US territory and eventually became the 50th US state in 1959. That's the short version, one I don't ever remember learning about in school.

Unlike the state where I grew up, people of every single ethnic background seem to happily mingle and co-exist here. Homeless folks stand out amongst the wealthy masses. It's hard to find a public toilet. Charms are on every corner.

Saturday night heaps of food/shopping stalls lined the main strip as police closed off traffic. Tourists were everywhere, pineapple and coconut treats abound, Hawaiian flowers and leis adorned everything, and the scent of marijuana wafted through the air. Street performers seemed to always be setting up or packing down. Later that night I nursed a tasty Mai Tai at a ritzy restaurant by the beach and listened to the band warm up.

Waikiki had a different vibe to other parts of Honolulu.

Saturday afternoon I tried out Honolulu's public transportation system and was impressed by its ease and efficiency. It just so happens that the weekend I flew in was the weekend that the much anticipated Skyline light metro train opened in Honolulu. The 50-year, $10billion-project is not finished yet, but it was beautiful to see the high Honolulu views along the 17-kilometre track, and everyone could ride for free until July 4.

It almost reminded me of Newcastle's light rail in terms of the different passionate opinions I heard about it. Every Hawaiian has something to say about it. Me, I'm was just there for the free ride! I met up with Chavonnie Ramos, a 25-year-old public transit fan and journalist for Hawaiian Business magazine. She's been taking buses in Honolulu since she was a child, and she's written plenty of stories about Honolulu's public transit. We ride the train forward and back, swapping stories.

Sunday I woke up early (did I even sleep?) to hike Aiea Loop trail with family friends. In the depth of gnarly jet lag and worries about my next leg of the trip, nature helped. Five of us climb through lush hills and valleys, the landscape changing at every turn. Sunday night, exhausted, I walked through the breezy Honolulu airport, amazed at how much I don't know about this world, sad to be leaving so soon. Mahalo.

I loved the "Shaka sign" the surf-friendly welcoming hand motion. Every person I asked to take a picture of made the gesture. I love it!