Yolanda’s bit
We had booked a double room in one of the cheapies in the Waikiki area next to Honolulu, Oahu island, probably the most touristy place of the whole Hawaii. That's where our plane took us and we didn't intend to spend any time and money exploring the rest of the islands.
It was about 3am and as soon as we stepped out of the airport building, the pleasant new temperature waved a nice hello to us and a few girls were trying to get customers for different hostels (no flowers necklaces though). We spotted our girl and she didn't have our booking on record. We'd have to share a dorm room for the night.

She took us and another couple on a van across Honolulu and on to the Hostel. There were surfboards everywhere and it seemed to be pretty close to the beach. There were 6 others in our room of 4 double bunk beds and 1 single. On the double beds, a Brit couple doing a long few-continents trip, 2 Californian girls doing a couple of months to a few places after college and an Italian bloke who'd been there for a while now. On the single bed, a weird southamerican who didn't speak, read the Bible, was too clean and tidy but always wore the same big red-hearts on white underpants.
Funny to share a room with a few people suddenly but it turned out to be friendly socializing.

The manager of the place was a rather messy "catch me if you can" bloke who only really cared about waves so it took a few days to get a room and only to get a broken bed (took another day to fix), a few bugs, same privacy and much less comfort. On the other hand he was really cool and friendly if you caught him at the beach and he took us to catch waves on the body-boards. He would explain enthusiastically which were the main tricks to know and when was the exact time and how to catch the wave and how to keep on it after.
It was really fun and he didn't give up till we caught at least one wave. He would stay next to me and shout instructions then scream and give me a push at the right time.
There were always a few of the Hostel guys hanging around with him with body boards on the beach.

One day we went in search for a volcano and found it but didn't feel like climbing to the top. Instead we went down to another beach near it with no sunbathers at all. Strictly windsurfing and very impressive it was.

Beach, beach, beach. I don't even want to mention the rest.

Nightlife was not worth it at all. We went to a couple of bars which were not full of disgusting middle-aged wealthy tourists and where the door-killers didn't ask us for ID. That's when we started to speculate with the idea of Miles going back to London fairly soon and me going on traveling. Miles was tired of traveling, missed a few things in London (red buses, black cabs, friends, family, even work!) and was even more broke than me.

We talked about how and when and what could happen and what if and so on. The decision would be made in San Fran.