Skipped the Uber and walked. Left the hotel a little after nine, headed down through Kapiolani Park, past the zoo, along the seawall where the surfers were already out, and up into the residential bit under Diamond Head. The whole outbound walk is maybe three miles and it flies by because there's something to look at on every block — jacarandas, banyans, a guy selling shave ice out of a pickup, honu sleeping on the wall at the aquarium.

The hike itself is short but brutal in full sun. You're climbing the inside wall of a volcanic crater with basically no shade for the last third, up staircases and through a little tunnel and then one final steep push to the bunkers on the summit. My shirt was a disaster by the top. I did not care.

The view from the top is the view, right? The one on the postcards. Waikiki curling away to the left, the Pacific doing the thing it does, the crater floor directly below looking impossibly green. I sat up there for twenty minutes and just watched a container ship move about one pixel across the horizon.

Walked all the way back instead of calling a ride. In retrospect I should have called a ride. The sun was higher, I was out of water, and the last half mile through Waikiki was sort of a slog. Got back to the hotel, showered, collapsed, then went out for a beer an hour later. Great day. Legs will remember it tomorrow.