Waikoloa Travel Blog› entry 4 of 5 › view all entries
I promised to tell you of my adventures in Hawaiian golf, and I'll confess that I've been procrastinating. Why, you ask? Because I was thrown off one of the best golf courses in the world, that's why! There, I've aired my shame. Satisfied?
A little background is obviously in order. As I mentioned in my last post, we were staying at the charming little KonaLani Inn, a place I'd happily stay again. Simultaneously, I had two sets of friends who were likewise staying on the island. One of them was a lunatic golfer and fanatic opera fan (weird combo, I know), who spends half his life chasing sopranos in the hopes of making one his wife, and the other half whacking little balls around obscenely expensive golf greens. What strange creatures people are.
The golf nut simply told us he was staying at 'the Hilton,' which did nothing to prepare us for the veritable Disneyland that is the Waikoloa Hilton.
I couldn't tell you the name of the golf course, but I can say that it was positively gorgeous, and we even got to see some whales off in the distance while we whacked those little balls around. Before we got kicked out, that is. Suffice it to say that I suck at golfing. Moreover, I just don't get why it's actually considered a sport, let alone why anyone would bother playing. Tennis? Now that's a game. Basketball? I get it. Even dominoes or checkers . . . hey, I understand the premise. But this hitting of little white balls, all on enormous expanses of beautiful land, and for ridiculously precious prices . . . .well, it ain't for me, I guess. So I commenced with my Caddyshack standup comedy routine, and continued it relentlessly over the objections of my Golf Nut friend and the caddy who accompanied us. My comedic lineup rose to a fevered pitch when the whales we spotted started "spouting" out at sea, whereupon I managed to work in a little off-color humor for the occasion (let your mind wander on that one). What I didn't know was that the caddy is apparently in touch with Mother Ship via radio, because somewhere around the eighth hole a golf cart full of stormtroopers approached. Of course they were cleverly disguised as hotel employees, but I wasn't fooled. "Perhaps you might enjoy our lagoon," one of them interjected obsequiously. "Or maybe a nice swim in one of our pools," suggested the other. When I resisted, they escalated their 'suggestions' to include free drinks at the bar, perhaps even something to eat. Suddenly, I realized we were being politely 'uninvited.'
Well, I can tell you I've been thrown out of nicer places, and I promise to write about those too. But imagine my shame as I was driven off that golf course into exile. . . next time, I'll seek asylum in one of the fine hotels in Honokaa, where I've been granted diplomatic immunity from such outlandish treatment.