Hawaii in a heartbeat

We’re sorry, this feature is currently unavailable. We’re working to restore it. Please try again later.

Advertisement

This was published 13 years ago

Hawaii in a heartbeat

Sunny days ... the Outrigger's Reef pool.

Sunny days ... the Outrigger's Reef pool.

Oahu is peeling away layers to reveal its history - and a more authentic mai tai, writes Amy Cooper.

I'M BACK on Oahu and the island greets me by unfurling a long, low rainbow across the late afternoon sky. I remember this reliable magic. Hawaii delivers photo opportunities with the timing of a seasoned pro, right on cue with a sunset, a song, a show-stopping view.

It has been five years since I left but the gentle air, generous blossoms and regal palms flagging the way to Waikiki are soothingly familiar. The enduring rhythms of these islands, evoked so easily when far away by a melody or the curl of surf, dance immediately to life when you return - which is why so many people do. Hawaii lives up to its nostalgia.

This time, though, I'm expecting change on Oahu. While I've been gone the island has been enjoying something of a cultural renaissance; renovations deeper than bricks and mortar, which say local friends, will give me "chicken skin" moments - the Hawaiian term for amazement-related goosebumps.

It begins at the Outrigger Reef on the Beach, at the western end of the Waikiki strip. I've always liked Outrigger hotels. The company began here and honours its origins with a commitment to Hawaii's cultural heritage. Hawaiian customs permeate your stay and even the largest properties convey the genuine warmth - aloha - native to these islands. While some resorts deliver theme park Hawaiiana, Outriggers nail that tricky mix of luxury and authenticity. To this end, the flagship Reef on the Beach has just had a massive renovation. The results are immediately apparent. The hotel's entrance is now a majestic timber Polynesian canoe house with a koa wood outrigger canoe suspended from the ceiling. Hotel staff (Outriggers call their staff "ohana" - family) tell me they helped restore the century-old vessel.

You check-in sitting down in a sumptuous library, amid glass cases filled with curator-selected artefacts. My room has a lovely old wooden canoe paddle on the wall and the bed is a hand-carved replica of one belonging to Liliuokalani, Hawaii's last queen. The hotel's five suites have been named by the Polynesian Voyaging Society after star constellations, to commemorate Hawaii's navigator ancestors. Little bedtime stories about Hawaiian people, crafts and customs are left on your pillow at night. While all the modern five-star toys are here, the past gently enfolds you.

The hotel's new heart is Kani Ka Pila ("let's play music" in Hawaiian) Grille, an outdoor venue for local live music. Here, the Hawaiian tradition of the spontaneous backyard gathering with friends, food and tunes is revived nightly - often with Grammy Award-winning performers. Jam sessions, spontaneous hula and parties flourish around the poolside stage. At the bar I find myself chatting to friends of Cyril Pahinui, the legendary slack key guitarist. While he plays, family members join in. The venue is the first in a big Waikiki hotel to bring locals and visitors together in this way and is a delightful surprise on a strip famed for big-glitz showbiz.

By day, I stroll along Waikiki beach and find further transformation. The famous old Royal Hawaiian Hotel or "pink palace" has also had a makeover. The signature shade has been tastefully toned down and now punctuates an elegant interior palette of greens and browns. She's still pink-skinned but the grand dame has shed the excess camp of recent years and wears her past with dignity again.

The towering Sheraton Waikiki Resort is renovating too and has added a new farm-to-table eatery called Kai Market, featuring fresh, locally grown products inspired by the ethnic mix of cuisines at Hawaii's old plantation tables more than 100 years ago.

Advertisement

Like Kani Ka Pila, Kai Market brings a welcome touch of earthiness to the glossy tourist hub.

My friends are most keen to show off Chinatown - a place where earthiness has never been in short supply. The 140-year-old area is just a few kilometres away from Waikiki beach but until recently might as well have been in another galaxy. Crime, sleaze and disrepair kept anyone with a sense of self-preservation away from its grimy streets. Chinatown was the shady scowl to Waikiki's sunny smile.

No one seemed to remember or care that these old, low-rise shops, dwellings and warehouses close to the port redounded with fascinating history, dating back to 19th-century merchants and markets established by Chinese ex-plantation workers.

The area became overrun with drugs and strip joints and seemed destined to remain so until its disused Hawaii Theatre, a beautiful 1920s silent picture house, was saved from the wrecking ball by campaigners and reopened as a 1400-seat state-of-the art performance venue.

In the past five years, Chinatown's other neglected buildings have been steadily reincarnated as cool bars, critically acclaimed restaurants, hip vintage shops and art galleries.

Every month, the whole fabulous mosaic comes together in a celebration called First Friday, when the galleries stay open into the early hours, bars throw parties and the streets and footpaths fill with music and stalls. The centre of the action is Chinatown's spine, Hotel Street and as if as proof, there's a bar opening the night I'm visiting.

Manifest is a typical Chinatown building; brick-lined, ramshackle and now transformed into a bustling, chic, boho melting pot of artists, live music and cocktails.

Like its refurbished neighbours, the place has the air of an old tramp suddenly draped in designer threads and thrust before the paparazzi. It looks surprised.

The name is inspired by the TV series Lost, which films on the island. Owner Brandon Reid, 27, had a cameo role but tonight he's centre stage, welcoming a throng of Honolulu hipsters, artists, DJs and lion dancers. Reid tells me he dreamed of transforming this space into a laid-back haven for artists. "It spoke to me," he says, before being swallowed by the crowd.

His enthusiasm is echoed opposite at Bar 35, where manager George Sebolt harbours 208 beers from around the world in another very pre-loved warehouse space. Few countries are omitted from the menu and many brews are rare.

Sebolt tells me proudly that Bar 35 is the first in the US to serve the Belgian Chimay on tap.

Alongside is Thirtyninehotel, which transforms into a Prohibition speakeasy on Thursdays with jazz and '20s costumes.

Award-winning bartender Christian Self mixes a pared-back, purist's mai tai, which he says is the closest possible to the Hawaiian legend Trader Vic's 1944 original.

We visit Mercury, a hot live music venue next door, a tiny dive bar so cool you need a microscope to find it and Indigo, said to be a favourite of President Obama, Oahu's favourite modern son. If so, he's a man of taste.

Indigo is a beguiling, sultry-lit maze of giant lanterns, old brick outhouses, murals and bookshelves, with live music and renowned mod-Med/Asian dining.

Next morning it's time to witness another Oahu butterfly emerging from its cocoon. Honolulu's Bishop Museum has just reopened its Hawaiian Hall after three years and $US16 million of renovations. The great 120-year-old hall is the museum's centrepiece and was always absorbing - I've lost hours exploring its three storeys.

Now, with the addition of special climate control and lighting and the input of US museum design guru Ralph Applebaum, thousands of the museum's delicate 1.3 million artefacts can emerge into the public gaze for the first time. The hall is being described in movie superlatives: "moving", "powerful", "magical".

And it is. Hawaii's past no longer poses politely behind glass. It prowls and whispers, struts and sings and even rages across the floors now transformed into three realms - of the sea and legends, man and the land, and the gods. Artefacts already resonating with ancient power are reinforced by layers of storytelling; video and live performance.

I come across a resident actor-storyteller reaching the climax of his tale. He's clutching the old Hawaiian flag, in tears as he recounts the 1893 overthrow of Queen Liliuokalani by Americans and the subsequent annexing of the Hawaiian islands. The audience is utterly transfixed.

This is sensitive territory. Sorrow and anger about the occupation remain today and there is still a strong independence movement in Hawaii. Although the US formally apologised for "the overthrow of the kingdom of Hawaii" in 1993, many will never forget - or forgive.

Previously, this grievous aspect of history was presented drily, its human implications avoided. The new Hawaiian Hall confronts these head-on, giving eloquent voice to the pain of a people still mourning.

This unflinching accuracy underpins the new hall's mission: to celebrate a vibrant, living culture.

Extensive collaboration took place with the native Hawaiian people to ensure that history was told in their words. And those words are deeply affecting. They rouse you to anger, move you to sadness but, most of all, inspire joy. The overwhelming impression of a journey through the three "realms" is one of a proud, happy and wise culture with beliefs and traditions so connected to nature that nothing can shake their permanence. It's comforting, like that first touch of breeze when you land here.

The spirit of the new Hawaiian Hall is the spirit of the new Oahu; a place reconciling with its history, shedding layers to reveal a truer version of itself.

While glitz and kitsch will always be a fun part of the mix, Oahu's past lies closer to the surface now and it makes for a richer visit.

Before I leave Bishop Museum, the storyteller hands me a yellow ribbon bearing the Hawaiian phrase: "Mai poina oe ia'u." Not to be forgotten. The motto is more than a century old but has never seemed truer.

Trip notes

Getting there

Hawaiian Airlines flies direct to Honolulu three times a week (Wednesday, Friday, Sunday) and offers regular discount deals for as little as $1050 return; hawaiianair.com.au.

Staying there

The Outrigger Reef on the Beach has rooms from $US169 ($185) a night (city view) to $US909 for a very swish, one-bedroom oceanfront suite.

Sister hotel Outrigger Waikiki on the Beach (just along the Waikiki strip) has rooms from $US159 to $US899. See outrigger.com for deals including packages for golfers, couples and water sports enthusiasts.

See + do

First Friday bursts into life in Honolulu's Chinatown on the first Friday of every month; firstfridayhawaii.com.

Kani Ka Pila (at the Outrigger Reef on the Beach) is open daily for breakfast, lunch and dinner with live music every night and a new happy hour from 3-6pm.

Bishop Museum, 1525 Bernice Street, Honolulu, is open Wednesday to Monday (closed Tuesdays) from 9am-5pm. Adults $US17.95, kids aged four-12 $US14.95, kids under three free. Bishopmuseum.org.

With the kids

Oahu is a perfect family destination, with a wealth of attractions for children. Nearly all hotels offer kids' programs. Many restaurants feature "kids eat for free" times. Look out for the Hawaiian word "keiki" (children) and you'll find it everywhere, from the "keiki clubs" at hotels to discount or free entry at main attractions. Highlights include Honolulu Zoo's much-loved kids' day camp, Waikiki Aquarium's sleepovers for littlies and at Sea Life Park Hawaii, kids can be an animal trainer for the day and play up close with dolphins. The Hawaii Children's Discovery Centre is a must-see for those curious kids.

More information

discoverycenterhawaii.org; visit-oahu.com.

LOCAL SECRET

WHILE you're on Oahu, treat yourself to a Kini Beach bag made from recycled materials from Waikiki Beach.

They're made by David Watt, from straw mats, polyurethane floaties and boogie boards discarded by tourists each day. Increasingly concerned by the volume of abandoned items, Watt started a recycling scheme last year in the resort's 53 hotels, starting with the Outrigger.

"Waikiki generates about 30 swimming pools' worth of these abandoned materials each year and they don't decompose in the ocean," Watt says. "They just float. I was always sad to see them bobbing all around while I was surfing."

He transforms the rescued items into funky beach bags and paddle covers. You can find them in boutiques and online at kinibeach.com. "Our motto is: from the beach, for the beach," Watt says. "Each new object is made with aloha and helps us care for our beautiful island."

Sign up for the Traveller Deals newsletter

Get exclusive travel deals delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up now.

Most viewed on Traveller

Loading