Room at Pakalana Inn, Hilo, Hawaii

Spacious, clean, simple. Architect Neil C. Erickson, Hilo Hawaii rennovated the quaint relic and resurrected its bygone name: Pakalana Inn, Hilo Hawaii. Located Downtown in the old timey part of Hilo, adjacent to Hilo Farmers Market. Walk everywhere. Close to Ocean. Give Neil a call @ (808) 969-4945 or check out the website to book a room http://www.pakalanainn.com/.

The transformation of Room two.

The head rests on the pillow but the cerebrum conjures dreams of Coconut Island, a petite jewel festooned with Coconut Palms wherein tidepools nestle and miniature white sand beaches beckon children to feel the warm sand on their bare feet as well as the soothing lap of wavelets transparent as blown glass. You can gaze towards Coconut Island from Room Two of the Pakalana Inn, Hilo Hawaii to your hearts content as you plan a day picnic to the little Island, an easy walk from Banyan Drive where gynormous Banyan Trees tranform the road into a tunnel of shade.
If you chance to cross the foot bridge to said Coconut Island on a sunlit afternoon, you will likely see Hawaiian sea turtles rise up for breath.
A favorite "jumping" spot for local children, their distant laughs merging with the slide of waves over the breakwater into the receiving billows of the deeper ocean.
If you suffer from insomnia, as does this writer, you might try counting sea turtles, or jumping children. But if it's the Fourth of July, forget that idea. Coconut Island is where they launch the County's fireworks. Calling all patriots: One can enjoy a birds eye view of the Fourth of July Spectacle from Rooms One, Two and Six and of the Pakalana Inn. You can certainly call out the windows to passersby and even spray them with your uncorked champagne.

Picnic Table Hawaii Parks

Thinking about the picnic tables I have known. Friends I have laughed with, passing a shared bottle . . .or . . . whatever.
Nights under a full moon. The ocean all lit up silver. Ironwood pine needle Campfires. Sparks ascending upward seeming to merge with the stars. A guy with braids who could shimmy up a coconut tree. There is something about coconut milk sucked from the husk, fresh tradewinds and wood smoke. They go together. And they are enough. Work? I'd rather sit at a picnic table and watch the ocean, thank you. Poking a little driftwood fire with a stick is a lovely past-time. A great way to commune with the ghost of Jack London. One can walk to many a deserted picnic table from the Pakalana Inn and contemplate such notions. You can think about a lot of things. Or nothing at all. Doesn't really matter much.