Honolulu, Hawaii

There were no problems waiting for Immigration and Customs this morning as our last port was also in USA so we were off the ship by just after 9.

Along with our friends, Isabella, Arthur and Shirley, we were keen to take a helicopter ride hoping to see some volcanic activity from the air. We've had an excellent lecturer on board lately, Gary Shahan, a former US teacher, who told us everything we need to know about volcanoes. Did you know, for example, that there are two types of lava? They are A'a, which is granular, and Pahoehoe, which is smoother and pillow-like, rather like pulled toffee. This is very useful information to have because I know now that the lava we saw in Nicaragua is the A'a type.

Another handy bit of trivia to know is that the molten rock is only called magma while it is inside the volcano. Only once it has escaped is it called lava.

Anyhow, we wandered along the street until we came to an information booth that was advertising helicopter rides. Hurray, we thought, not knowing that our plans were about to be thwarted.

Alas, there were no vacancies. No helicopter rides for us today. No exciting spotting of red hot lava flowing down relentlessly before hissing into the sea.

Oh, well! Just another small disappointment amongst the many that life throws at you.

So, on to Plan B. Unfortunately we didn't have one. However, across the road we spotted a small bus with a spruiker outside trying to entice tourists to take an island tour. Four hours for $45. Pretty good value but not quite what we wanted.

Isabella, however, sparked up when she heard that. She is even slower than me and her knees were hurting. The thought of walking further was not inviting to her at all.

"I'll go!" she declared with quite perceptible relief.

Arthur ushered her across the street and deposited her aboard and we continued on our way.

We decided to take the local bus to Ala Moana shopping centre from where we could get another local bus which would take us around the island.

There was a steady flow of Dawn Princess passengers which had filled the street in the very manner that a stream of lava will roll on, filling every inch of ground in its path, so the queue for the bus was long, very long.

Eventually a bus came along. The passenger lava flowed aboard, almost inundating the bus itself.

By the time it was our turn to board, the ticket machine, too, was red hot and molten.

The driver could not fix it.

"Oh, just get on," she declared with exasperation. So we did. No fare paid. $2.50 saved, or $1.00 if she had accepted our Seniors Cards. Read on and you'll find out why I never did discover if they would be accepted or not!

At Ala Moana we alighted. Most of the flow veered off in the direction of the shopping centre to spend, spend, spend. We headed for the next bus along with two or three others who we recognised from the ship.

Along it came and we lined up. The fellow passengers in front held out their tickets with the transfer they'd been given before the ticket machine on the first bus had melted. We, of course, had no such thing but this new bus driver must have had ESP or second sight or some such gift because he obviously could see that we all belonged together and he just beckoned us through. We tried to tell him the story and held out our money but he just glared and turned away. We didn't press the point.

So another free ride! It was turning out to be a lucky day after all. Missing the helicopter ride added to our luck as well as the weather had closed in and the sky was covered with low clouds which emitted bursts of drizzle for the rest of the day.

That bus ride was good. It lasted 4½ hours and we made lots of new Hawaiian friends who pointed out places of interest along the way.

Our first new friend was a tiny Japanese-Hawaiian woman who was off to visit her sister in the next town. She donated a map of the bus route to the cause which helped us immensely. Another new friend was a maybe 50 year old Bryan Brown look-alike surfie with a bandana on his head who pointed out the Lion's Head Rock on the mountain.

The most fascinating, though, was a woman who was a former hula-hula dancer. We liked her carmine hair and gold teeth but she kept up a loud non-stop commentary for about an hour so we were relieved when she had to get off.

A young American in the seat in front had been listening to our discussion and was grateful to learn why the Hawaiian flag has a Union Jack in the corner. Perhaps as thanks for the information, he gave us directions to the Mai Tai bar in Ala Moana.

But back to the flag. The Union Jack is there because Hawaii was, due to Cook, once a British colony and it was only turned over to USA in, maybe, about the 1880s.

By the time we were back at Ala Moana, we were hungry and thirsty. We'd forgotten to pack our lunches and had only brought a bottle of water to drink so the Mai Tai bar was top of our list.

On the way through the shops we passed many items that I'd liked to have stopped to buy but the Mai Tai had to come first. I'll come back later, I promised myself. Silly me. You'll see why soon.

The Mai Tai bar was jumping. The décor would have suited a beachside bar well. Beautiful slim young waitresses (I know they're called all waiters these days but it would sound wrong in this case!) in skimpy strapless tight Hawaiian print dresses and comfortable white joggers glided around taking and delivering orders.

We sank down into comfortable chairs at a table for four. Yippee! It was happy hour - drinks for $4 and food for $5.

Shirley doesn't drink but she ordered, like me, a lychee mai tai. Don't say I didn't warn her. I really did! The men had local beer. We ordered coconut and chilli prawns, calamari and onion rings.

Oh, yum! Those lychee mai tais were sweet and delicious. We ordered more. Shirley reminded the waitress to make sure that there WAS alcohol in them.

There certainly was.

We were munching and sipping, munching and sipping, when Shirley's phone rang. It was Elaine and Vincenzo. They, too, were in the shopping centre and were coming to join us. We rounded up two more chairs and the two shoppers arrived, loaded up with bags. They'd already been back to the ship with their first load!

Vincenzo ordered more drinks. Mai tais for the women and beer for the men and another plate of food.

A musician had started up and the amplified sound was blasting us almost out of our seats but we soldiered on. Two hours later and after more rounds of drinks we were happy and sozzled, ready to face the shops. The others staggered drunkenly off to do their shopping and Alan just had to buy an iPad while I wanted to go to Macy's.

"I'll be half an hour," he said. "I'll meet you just inside Macy's." He ran off down the escalator and disappeared.

It turned out that that was the last I saw of him.

I wandered around the women's department. I really wanted to buy things there and do other shopping as well but I couldn't leave the area near the door. I needed him because we wanted to use our ANZ Travel Card and he is the only one able to sign.

After over an hour I was becoming somewhat irritated. I looked outside. No Alan. I waited a bit longer. Still no Alan. I went outside and down the escalator to try to trace where he'd gone. Eventually I found the Apple shop. No Alan in there so I returned to Macy's. Again, no Alan.

I waited longer. By then I'd was really disgruntled and getting tired, too, so after one more look around for him I gave up.

I headed off back the way we'd come into the shopping centre and found an exit that faced the water. If I kept the water on my left I knew I'd end up back at the ship but by then it was dark and was still raining, of course. Ahead I could see lights. As I got closer I could see there was a long line of buses with a crowd of people waiting. Great! All I had to do was find a bus that would take me in the right direction.

My luck was in for there was a conductor in uniform who told me that I'd need a No 19 or No 20. I found the stop and stood with the crowd to wait. Time was getting on and it was about 9.30pm by then and the rain was still falling. I was getting wet but luckily it wasn't cold.

After 20 minutes or so I was tired of standing but there was no seat - only one that was wet. I was a little concerned on another front, as well. It was this: cruise ships' passengers are easy to recognise when ashore. They are nearly all old and all wear touristy clothes. Some even wear their cruise cards on a lanyard around their necks.

None of the people waiting with me were from the ship.

Buses were coming and going but none were Nos 19 or 20.

Eventually, however, I spotted the magic number 19 on an approaching bus. I reached for my purse to get out the money. I knew I needed the right amount for the ticket machine. Oh, no! All I had were two one hundred dollar notes. No change at all.

By then the bus had arrived and it was my turn to get on. I put on my best Australian accent and said, very apologetically, "I'm sorry but I only have a $100 note."

The driver looked at me surlily.

"Please," I whined.

He jerked his head back in the direction of the body of the bus.

"Get on before I change my mind," he growled.

I didn't wait for a second invitation. I was on as quick as lightning. My only problem then was to work out where to get off.

There was an automatic voice describing the location of each coming stop but it wasn't easy to hear. After about 20 minutes, though, I heard, "Cruise ships."

It was a long dark walk but I could see the ship all lit up and standing higher than the neighbouring buildings. I made it slowly but safely.

Luckily the ship wasn't leaving until midnight!

And that, you see, is why I never found out if my Seniors Card is accepted in the good ole USA.

By the way, if you're wondering if Alan made it back to the ship, yes, he did and no, I didn't speak to him.

I wanted to smash his damned iPad, though.