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Hotel report: Hilton Waikoloa Village, the Big Island

lagoon-like pool at the Hilton Waikoloa

I hate resorts. Hate them. But my dad got it into his head that we’d take a short trip to the Big Island and settled on staying at the Hilton Waikoloa Village. I figured I could shove my snobbish, intellectually-charged disdain aside for a couple days and endure some utterly manufactured and Disney-fied “paradise.” I also figured that maybe it was time to drag myself off my grandma’s couch.

I was further lured in by Hilton’s first quarter promotion entitled More Points and having registered for it, I would be receiving, well, more points — 1000 per night since we’d be staying during the week (you get 5000 points on weekend stays). In addition, I had just managed to get myself free and instant Hilton Gold Status (along with a number of family members and whoever would listen to me badger them about it on Facebook) through this scheme. I was eager to test out Gold benefits, which include a 25% bonus on HHonors base points earned, free breakfast and internet, etc.

We had a corporate rate which made a standard room about $191 per night. Taxes added on another $25 or so. Gold benefits at the property alloted us a total of four $10 food certificates in lieu of a free continental breakfast.

standard digs at the Hilton

standard digs at the Hilton in the Ocean Tower

spacious dressing area

Kohala Spa branded toiletries in said spacious dressing area

The Hilton Waikoloa Village turned out to be a pretty resorty resort. The lobby was graced (?) by a number of spunky parrots. There was a mini-train. It encircled the entire property, stopping at a tower inspired by a different Asian destination every few minutes. A recorded voice cheerfully announced each stop and interspersed those announcements with helpful facts: “One of the longest words in the Hawaiian language is the humuhumunukunukuapua’a and now we are arriving at the Ocean Tower!”

stupid mini train and spunky parrots

In this Truman Show-esque version of reality, there were several restaurants, including: Kirin, the Chinese restaurant, quite naturally packed with tour groups from Mainland China, and the Japanese-ish Imari, where we dined alongside quite a lot of Japanese tourists and some “aloha-attired” midwesterners who were surely stepping far outside of their comfort zones.

Not terribly thrilling pork katsu

We received a 15% kama’aina discount on all meals, which I really appreciated. If you don’t know what a kama’aina discount is, you’re likely not eligible for it. The meals were, unsurprisingly, horrendously overpriced. We ordered five little pieces of hamachi for $18 and two entrees, miso butterfish and pork katsu, both around $25 and not that thrilling. My mojito was thankfully just strong enough to dull my senses and keep me nice.

The property is quite a bit lovelier at night. The pseudo-museum displays develop a sort of kitschy charm. The concrete Roman-ish statues are no less puzzling, but after several beers at a poolside bar, I finally ceased my struggle to cull any sort of mythological analysis from the scene pictured below. I also stopped wondering why the cherubs were so, um, well-developed.

puzzling statue group

On our second day, my dad and I split a rather unfortunate but extremely large loco moco at the Big Island Breakfast at Water’s Edge. The rice was hard, the hamburger patty was poorly seasoned and by the time it arrived at our table, the gravy had developed a skin. But our server was overwhelmingly sweet and gracious. My dad pointed out the hard rice and she brought over a heaping plate of assorted breakfast breads to compensate when we refused a replacement loco moco.

The loco moco that broke my heart

Looking at this photo of the loco moco makes me too sad to go on. I will have to finish up the Kohala Spa portion of this report some other time.

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