Tip One: Dress the part. Find your flimsiest ballet pumps and pick out a one-shouldered bag. It’s just a bit of walking, right?
Tip Two: Water? Who has space in their bag for that!? Surely there’ll be some magical water fountains somewhere along the trail.
Tip Three: A bit over the halfway point, dehydrated, with aching feet and shoulders sore from carrying undistributed weight, realise that only a complete idiot would follow tips number one and two. Consider returning from whence you came.
Tip Four: Spot a sign that seems like it was put in place especially for idiots who followed tips number one and two. Be thankful for the push. Only you can stop.
Tip Five: Carry on through the trail’s windy paths, stairs, and tunnels. Take a rest at every chance you get. Ignore the chipper folk twice your age who are comically skipping past your young, out-of-breath self. No need to tell anyone about that part.
Tip Six: When a chirpy lady from Manchester, about the same age as you, asks if you want a photo at one of the look-out points, ignore the voice inside your head that says “I must look sweaty and disgusting and just plain gross.” Have your photo taken and take one of her in return. Exchange smiles, smiles that you know are genuine, and part ways.
Tip Seven: Reach the top and let it all sink in. You never thought you’d make it all the way to Hawaii in all of your life, yet here you are, overwhelmed by life and the beauty of the views. You’re QUEEN of the world!
Tip Eight: Laugh to yourself as you hear an exasperated father react to his bored child’s pleas to go back. “Go back? How can you say that!? Do you not realise how beautiful this is!?” The child doesn’t seem to realise that we’re looking out at paradise. Perhaps they possess a wisdom that we don’t have. They don’t want to just look at paradise. For a moment, feel complete and know that you’re ready to go back now.