THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 3, 1996 TAG: 9611020057
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY STEPHANIE STOUGHTON, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: 159 lines
WHEN I PROUDLY announced my intention to vacation solo at Waikiki Beach, my friends scrunched up their faces in concern and told me all the reasons I shouldn't.
They told me stories about female tourists who were kidnapped from resorts, their livers sold to wealthy alcoholics. They said I'd be sniveling alone in the corner of a restaurant, while other patrons nudged each other, saying, ``Look at that poor wretch, all alone.''
Even the guidebooks didn't support what I wanted. I researched single female travel, only to find books and Internet sites that described it as a means to hunt down the opposite sex, ``find yourself'' or join other women in cruises, hikes and tours.
My idea of vacationing solo was much different. I wanted my vacation - as selfish as that may sound. I wanted to set my own agenda, without entertaining other people. I wanted to go where I wanted to go, eat when I wanted to eat, and smoke off the balcony, reading a Tom Clancy novel, whenever I felt like it.
I picked Oahu, where clouded mountains overlooked coral-laced beaches, because I wanted to surf, swim and hike. The island also offers Hanauma Bay, where friendly fish swim up to your feet, and Sacred Falls, where an 80-foot waterfall cascades into a pool of water.
And all this should be shared with a significant other, my neighbor told me.
``Hawaii is for romance,'' he said, chiding me. ``What are you going to do by yourself?''
Well, Hang 10, for one.
At the crack of dawn, I walked along Waikiki Beach until I found Aloha Beach Services and one of its instructors, Terry, a lanky, gray-haired beach bum who promised to have me riding waves by the end of the one-hour lesson.
After 10 minutes of listening to his careful instructions - ``Don't ride the board too high. Go to your knees first!'' - I disregarded everything he said and nearly ran into a canoe, all the while screeching at the top of my lungs.
``That was good,'' said Terry, rolling his eyes.
Terry, however, did keep his promise. I was surfing well enough by the end of the lesson that I felt confident to handle waves by myself the next morning.
And thank God I didn't know anyone there. It's much better to learn a tricky sport like surfing at a place far, far from home, where you don't know a soul. Because you will embarrass yourself.
On Day 3 at Waikiki, I remembered that I was supposed to feel lonely. So, as I headed for my one expensive treat, a $38 lunch at the Orchid's Restaurant in Waikiki, I thought this would be a real test: Would I feel uncomfortable dining alone at a nice restaurant?
After all, I had read this traveling-women guidebook, which recommended that single women not head for the beaches because they would be reminded of their solitude each time a couple smooched.
But as I sat alone on the patio overlooking the Halekulani Hotel's garden and the beach, I forgot to feel lonely. Instead, I amused myself by eavesdropping on the couple at the next table. He was talking on his cellular phone, bickering with contractors over materials to be used in his new home. His wife was slumped over the table, sleeping.
Then I dived into Orchid's offerings: freshly squeezed guava juice, and salmon with crispy asparagus spears. I finished the meal off with a yummy sorbet flavored with lychee, a Chinese fruit with a slightly tangy taste.
The waiter at Orchid's, meantime, was friendly and attentive. He obviously enjoyed discussing the details of entrees and desserts, steering me toward various dishes and encouraging me to try the chef's cappuccino.
Throughout the trip, I chatted with enough people that I never felt completely isolated. At a breakfast orientation arranged by my travel agency, Bay Travel, I met several tourists, including a retired couple from Greensboro, N.C., who kindly invited me to sit with them during the dance show at the Polynesian Cultural Center.
Meantime, in elevators, at the beach and on the streets - I eagerly sought opportunities to befuddle Japanese tourists with my broken, beginning-level Japanese.
Sometimes, I didn't have to wait. In the hotel elevator, I heard two Japanese tourists clucking over my disheveled appearance. After a day of hiking and swimming, my hair had frizzed out, my arms were flecked with sand and my T-shirt was rumpled.
``(Something), (something), dirty, (something), American,'' the crisply dressed tourist said to her husband.
``Aah, soo desu,'' he responded, meaning, I agree with you completely.
I waited a few seconds before they left the elevator. We nodded and smiled at each other.
``Nanji desu ka?'' I asked. Hee hee.
It means: ``What time is it?''
For all my friends' fears that I'd be abducted or lose my head to some Don Juan, the reality was much less interesting. They say Waikiki is for romance, but ugh, thank God I wasn't looking.
As I headed down Waikiki's main drag to grab some food and window-shop, a shirtless, tanned man who looked like a Chippendale dancer grabbed my arm.
He told me I should pay to get on a boat and drink with handsome men like himself. He continued to hold onto my arm.
My response wasn't too pleasant, and he let go of my arm.
But at least he left me alone. During my week in Oahu, I encountered a major drawback to traveling solo. I'll call him John the Coconut-head.
An acquaintance of mine, a self-described clam, once coined the term ``travel leech.'' That's when you're trying to hike, dine or and read a book all by yourself. Then, you're horrified as other single travelers drop in, asking, ``Whatcha doin'? Can I come?''
It only happened once to me during the entire week. But Eeekkkk!! I was sending out go-away vibes when I told John, ``I really wanted to vacation alone because I like doing things all by myself.''
``Yeah, me too,'' he said. ``Whatcha doin'?''
``Going to church,'' I responded, smiling to myself.
``Oh, cool,'' he said. ``I'll go with you.''
Aacckkkk!!
On the way back, we had this intellectual conversation:
``My friend calls the natives of Hawaii coconut-heads,'' said John, exploding into goofy guffaws.
``That's not funny,'' I said.
``Well, I never said that. . . . Uhhh, whatcha doin' today?''
Running. Hiding.
John ended up pretty harmless, mainly because he found ``Sheila.'' Bless your heart, Sheila.
Even with a few annoyances, like John, I encountered very few drawbacks to travelings alone. The advantages, I discovered, far outweighed the disadvantages.
Although I had traveled alone mainly for selfish reasons, the trip left me with valuable experience. As my jet took off from Honolulu International Airport, I felt more confident knowing I could travel alone and have a great time. I also resolved to head for Japan the following year, learning to say more than, ``What time is it?''
I'm pretty sure I can do that one alone, too. ILLUSTRATION: Cartoon
JANET SHAUGHNESSY/The Virginian-Pilot
Graphic
SAFETY TIPS
There are a number of ways single travelers can make sure their
travels run safely and smoothly. To protect yourself against fraud
or crime, you should consider the following:
There may be some places you're better off not going alone. Ask
your travel agency about travel advisories concerning your
destination or call the State Department's Citizens Emergency
Center, (202) 647-5225. Consult guidebooks about possible dangerous
situations and areas.
Avoid carrying purses and wearing fanny packs. You might want to
use a money belt or other concealable carrier.
Don't stop when approached by strangers. But don't stick to the
``Don't talk to strangers'' credo so much that you don't meet
anyone.
Avoid property sales presentations.
If the price is too good to be true, move on. Stick with travel
agencies, tour companies and rental car firms with established
reputations.
Ask about your hotel room. There shouldn't be outside access to a
guest room. Also check to make sure it isn't too isolated or located
on the first floor.
Avoid looking like a tourist, wearing ``Aloha'' and ``I Love New
York'' T-shirts, carrying cameras around the neck and staring at
maps.
Stephanie Stoughton by CNB