Believe it or not, it was an economical decision to go to Hawaii en route back to North America. Carlos and I wanted to go on a big Australia mainland trip but it was looking very costly so we decided that we could get our fill of fish and warm weather in our own country. I haven’t been to Hawaii since I was in high school and the water polo trips were quite structured and…teenage… so it was a completely different experience. My family went to Maui when I was about ten and my memories are that of childhood fantasyland. Bright fish, warm waters, shaved ice, lots of pool time and more tropical fruit than I could stomach without throwing up on the side of a notorious winding road. It didn’t take much convincing for Carlos. That, and I guaranteed him that if we went to Hawaii I would sponsor a fishing trip for his birthday. Sold. Lugging nine months of stuff and two bikes here was going to be a bit of a challenge but nothing we hadn’t done before.
Some friends in both Tassie and California have rolled their eyes at us for needing some “transition time” but it was a sound decision to come. I had one panic attack the second time we went to the Maui grocery store and was forced to choose between despicable and expensive brands of milk. Another when we went out to breakfast with one of Carlos’ old work colleagues who happened to be on the island. Naturally the topic of future career moves was back on the table and it sent me into a tailspin of anxiety about why the hell we left our carefree lives. But other than that, I’ve been able to put my head down and let the thoughts of our last nine months abroad filter through the layers of emotion that I kept pent up throughout our departure. And what better place to put my head down than one where by doing so, you can see turtles?