I took the scenic route. Near two hours of travelling through the lush paradise that is the succulent Oahu landscape. Time did not matter because I had the eyes of a traveler, and the eager feet to match. My only methods of transportation the rhythm of my steps and the pointedly named Hawaiian transportation service, “The Bus.”
Time slows down when you move to the natural pace of the world around you, sans human ingenuity, or disingenuity if you prefer. Take your pick. It is this pace that set the tempo for this trip: purposefully slow, contemplative, without worry, with very loose aim, and most importantly, with absolute presence of mind. I was 2,413 miles away from the next place I needed to be, and there wasn’t a damn thing that was going to change that.
After having asked the kind lady bus driver where the best stop to hop off was, she recommended starting at Sunset Beach and working my way up, towards my ultimate destination, the infamous Pipeline.
The hydraulics of The Bus’ weathered doors sent a quick chirping hiss sound as they swung open, revealing the path to some of some of the most cherished and written about stretches of beach in the world. I had arrived.
I hopped off and began my walk.