9/3/17, “The International Date
Line”
Daniel K. Inuoye International
Airport, Oahu, Hawaii (HNL)
In my travels, I have been to
some far-out places and planned many trips that could quite objectively be
reffered to as insane. I have dealt with
logistical challenges of a level that surprised even myself. I have gone where Google Maps say roads do
not exist and found sites that are not on any map. I timed things to the minute and charted out
trips with a level of detail that to this day I still cannot comprehend how I
managed to keep it all straight. In all
of these trips, nothing has ever tripped me.
Today, I meet my match. It is
such a simple piece of geography, yet, it is a nigh insurmountable
obstacle. I am referring to the
International Date Line. It is now a
little past noon on Saturday local time.
I am 6 hours behind New York time.
I am about to take an 8-hour flight to Guam, and, when I land, it will
be Sunday evening local time. I will
then be 14 hours ahead of local time.
That I comprehend, losing time during a flight is familiar. However, coming back is what still confuses
me.
When I travel, the most basic unit
is a Day, and everything hinges on what I do on which Day. What, then, happens when I lose one Day and
another Day repeats itself? I do not
know how to process this information in my mind without contradiction. I have two hotels booked for the night of
September 6, one in Saipan, the other in Hilo.
It will be something like 20 hours from the time I leave my hotel in
Saipan to the time I arrive in Hilo, but the clock will register the same
time.
This does not make sense. I have confidence in the flights and hotels I
have arranged, but I still do not comprehend what I have done. To further complicate things, it is now Day 2
of the trip, and this is the last time I will have to publish an entry, but it
would be premature. Even combining the
events so far today with what will occur tomorrow on Day 3 is barely enough for
one full entry. What then happens on
September 6? Does September 6 get
covered twice as two entries, Day 5 and Day 6?
Day 5A and Day 5B? I do not
know. It is very confusing, but like
every obstacle the past five years of travelling has thrown at me, I will face
it and figure it out. It is just that
nothing has ever confused me as much as this simple piece of geography known as
the International Date Line.
After I
closed last night, I soon went to bed, slept fitfully again, and woke up a few
minutes before my alarm. I was on a VERY
tight schedule this morning. I would not
be able to enter the National Park boundary until 7 AM, and the headquarters
would not open until 8 AM. My OGG-HNL
flight was at 10:38 AM. Every minute
counted. I needed to be at the NP
boundary exactly at 7 AM, and I needed to time my visit to the summit so that I
was back at Headquarters (at the entrance) exactly at 8 AM. I made some coffee, packing and getting
dressed as I drank the coffee, and I was in my car at 6:35 AM.
I lit up an Oliva and started driving, seeing
cars that had gone for the sunrise driving back down now. I just cared about the stamps. I got to the park entrance at 6:59 AM. I couldn’t have timed it better. They let me in, and I was at the top around
7:20 AM. I got my stamp and souvenirs
and hiked up the trail to the viewpoint by the VC, lighting up an OpusX for the
climb. I was rewarded with a magnificent
vista and was back in my car at 7:45 AM, five minutes behind schedule.
It was slower going down than up, and I
arrived at Headquarters at 8:09 AM. I
got my stamp, which meant I had successfully gotten every stamp at Haleakala
National Park and drove to the airport with the rest of my cigar. The drive went quickly enough, and I soon saw
the coastline, signifying I had reached sea level after just having been at an
elevation of 10,000 feet.
I was at Hertz
at 9:10 AM, which was perfect timing for my 10:38 AM flight. In fact, I even had time to spare at the gate
before we started boarding. Hunger was
now starting to be an issue, not having had any breakfast other than some
candied coconut, but I didn’t have enough time to get any food.
The flight from OGG-HNL was short and
unadventurous, made even shorter by coffee and some chips. When I landed, I learned that I would need to
take a shuttle bus to the international terminal. I wanted to get lunch, but I wasn’t hungry
enough to have a large lunch, and I couldn’t find anything small. I figured that I would be able to get a
sufficient snack at the United Club once I got to the international
terminal. I waited almost 30 minutes for
the shuttle bus before learning that there were customs issues and it could be
a while before a shuttle bus was ready for the international terminal. I also learned that I could walk to my gate
in about 15 minutes. I almost flipped my
shit. If I had known that, I would have
just walked right away.
When I got to
the United Club, they had a decent spread, enough for a filling snack, and I
helped myself some food, along with a soda and double gin. Perhaps I should have had the gin after my
snack, as drinking an empty stomach was a bad idea, and the gin went straight
to my head. After I ate, I sat down by
the gate, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close. I will not publish until I get to Guam so
that I can combine Days 2 and 3.
9/4/17
Tamuning, Guam
I am sitting in a smoking bar
filled with members of the Armed Forces, and, by the way people are smoking and
drinking, laughing and smoking, and singing along to the oldies, you would have
no idea that this island is at a very real risk of being hit by a nuclear
missile. For me, not even the threat of
thermonuclear war made me consider changing my itinerary. I am here in Guam, and, pardon my French, but
Kim Jung-Un can suck it.
When civil war
broke out in Syria, I cancelled my planned trip there, but visiting Damascus
was not mission-critical. Visiting Guam
and Saipan are mission-critical, and the mission always comes first. I am here, and I have two activities that I
must do before I can leave the island and fly to Saipan. I need to visit War in the Pacific National
Historical Park and take my picture in front of the legislature, along with
getting my souvenirs. That will be done
before lunch, and it will give me the rest of the day unplanned before my 8:30
PM flight to Saipan.
Guam was always one
of those places that seemed more mythical than real to me. I always knew that I would include this as
part of the trip, in fact, when I told people about the trip, I would lead with
Guam, as it is the most recognizably exotic place I am visiting this trip. “My parents are sending me to Guam after I
graduate” was a lot better of a conversation starter with a classmate than,
“I’m going to Hawaii for my 30th Birthday.”
I am here now, and I feel like I am in a
scene from a bad war comedy, in one of those bars that servicemen go when they
have a night out. I am out of
place. I am not a local. I am not a member of the military. I am not here to get married or golf or
dive. I am here to check it off my
list. I have now claimed 3 of the
5 inhabited US Territories, and this trip will bring me to the other
2. It has been an epic evening, but I am
fading, so I will recount the details of this abbreviated Day 4 so that I can
make my way back to my hotel.
After I
closed at HNL, I went to my gate, and we soon boarded. When I got on board, I saw something that I
had never seen before. Half the seats in
business class were backwards, including my row. I assume they had a reason for doing this,
but it felt very awkward sitting backwards on an airplane. I rested my eyes until we took off, and, once
we were in the air, I started better sorting my photos and pulling my Mexico
WHS photos, which was working quite nicely.
I had a minor panic attack when I realized that I only had 30 out of the
34. I went through the list of all 34
sites and confirmed that I had visited all 34 before realizing what was
missing. My trip to Oaxaca was not in
the folder. I knew that I could easily
pull the photos from the cloud, so my panic was averted. Lunch was beef short rib, and I went to sleep
not long after the meal, catching a full REM cycle or two.
I woke up as were making our descent into
Guam and saw a huge complex of buildings that could only be the military
base. When we landed, I had another
panic as my bag took much longer to come out than it should have, but it came
out, and I went through border control.
Yes, Guam has border control. I
took a taxi to my hotel, resituated myself, and then walked into town to get
dinner.
I lit up a Cohiba for the walk
and took a ceremonial picture on the beach, but it was too dark to be usable at
this point, civil twilight having ended.
I opted for a place called Proa, and it had a nice selection. Island-style BBQ chicken, red rice, and a
local beer would do quite well for my first Official meal in Guam. It was delicious, but I could only manage half
of it. I waited for too long for the
waiter to clear my plate, but he made up for it by calling me a cab. I finished my cigar while I waited for the
cab, and then I heard something that sounded like an explosion. The car in front of me was smoking, and two
people got out of it laughing. They
looked under the hood to no avail and tried starting it again, also to no
avail. My cigar was done and my cab was
there, so I had lost interest.
The cab
took me to a cigar lounge called Mac & Marti. The humidor was disappointing, and I was
hoping they would have Cubans, but they did not. I opted for an Aging Room, which I paired
with a special edition Talisker. It was
a good combination, and I enjoyed myself, taking in the lively scene. I was quite sure that I was the only guy in
the bar who was not a member of the military, and the only girls seemed to be,
if I am using this term correctly, uniform bunnies. After my cigar, I lit up my trusty Ardor and
proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish,
post my photos, and go back to my hotel.
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