This blog was originally supposed to be a travel blog. I had all the right ingredients. I traveled quite a bit the last two years. I went to exotic and not so exotic locations. And then I just never had time. I was working full-time and applying for the NYU summer program, and what I ended up with was a stock of travel stories and photos and no time to put them up. Now that I have some free time, I’m trying to remedy that, and I think the best place to start would be Hawaii, Oahu more specifically, and how I’m definitely not cool enough to be a golf journalist.
No one gets into journalism for the pay. Or, if they do, please tell me how they do it, because I don’t know a single person rolling in dough for pumping out words. But press trips are the journalism gods’ way of telling you they love you, and make long hours and low pay worth it. Oh so worth it.
While I was working for Diablo, I was lucky enough to be invited to Oahu’s North Shore courtesy of Turtle Bay, the North Shore’s only destination resort. Originally, it was supposed to be a trip for golf journalist, but the invite was extended to a few of us other lucky ones, so I was surrounded by a bunch of golf pros and one other non-golfer from Vancouver.
Now, I have yet to be on a shitty trip, so you’ll have to trust me when I say I’d never blog about somewhere I didn’t love. But I LOVED Turtle Bay. You can read my rundown of the trip over at Diablo, but here were some of the highlights I didn’t get to include:
The firedancer who dropped it low (girl) during his performance:
Golf writers know how to party. This is like, 1/100th of what I drank this trip. There were so many Kona longboard lagers. Every night, we would go to Surfer the Bar and tear that place up. At one point there were Jameson shots. At another point, the golfers were doing the worm and their wives were hosting a round of fake double-dutch on the dance floor. At another point, the bar actually cut us off. At a final point, I was drinking coconut vodka and soda water because I couldn’t hang anymore and it was the only thing that made sense. Every morning, I would get up and power through my hangover, because it’s Hawaii and you are a terrible person if you stay inside all day.
Watching all of the golf journalists do batshit insane crazy people things:
I didn’t come dressed to jump, but almost everyone else went off Jump Rock in Waimea Bay. Also, fun fact: Forgetting Sarah Marshall was filmed at Turtle Bay. Does the second shot look familiar? That’s where Mila Kunis jumps and Jason Segel falls and clings to the rocks and ultimately jumps. Another fun fact: we had no clue if it was safe to jump there, and then everyone who did had to climb scraggly rock faces to get back out.
The fat kid dessert spread one of the nights:
Turtle Bay leaves a random stuffed animal on your bed, in case you feel like making a new friend. It is extremely creepy to come back to at first, and then it becomes slightly reassuring. I started saying “hey, blobby” to it when I’d come home. See? Reassuring.
The details: Turtle Bay is located on the North Shore of Oahu. It’s about an hour drive from Honolulu, and it’s a fantastic time. Also, the nearby bay was used for filming the new Hunger Games movie! You can totally pretend you’re Katniss when you’re paddleboarding and trying not to fall into the coral that’s everywhere.