Honolulu

Waikiki is dense, commercial and busy, and it is also a genuinely excellent beginner beach: the reef breaks the swell well offshore, so the waves arrive small and slow, which is why the surf schools clustered along it have taught people to stand up for a century. Take a lesson in the morning when the water is calmest, walk the length of the beach to the Natatorium end where the crowds thin, and use the strip for what it is good at — sunset, casual food, and easy swimming — rather than expecting it to be the whole island.

The crater at the end of the beach is the classic walk: a paved, switchbacked climb inside an extinct tuff cone to a rim lookout over the city and the reef. It is short, exposed and hot, so go early, and note that entry is by advance reservation for non-residents — turning up without one is the standard disappointment. Inland, the valleys behind the city hold rainforest trails to waterfalls, muddy underfoot and far cooler, with Mānoa the easiest and closest. Sturdy shoes, not sandals.

Rent a car for at least one day. The windward side, reached through the mountains, is green, cliff-walled and quiet, with calm bays for swimming and a completely different pace. Continue up to the North Shore and the character changes again: surf towns, shrimp trucks, and in winter the giant waves that draw the big-wave competitions — spectacular to watch and genuinely dangerous to enter. In summer the same beaches go flat and become snorkelling water. The circuit back to Honolulu makes a full, unhurried day.

The memorial sites west of downtown are among the most visited places in the state and need planning rather than improvisation. Entry to the main memorial is by timed ticket, released in advance and gone quickly in high season; bags are not permitted and there is a storage facility on site. Allow half a day including travel, arrive early, and treat it as a solemn site rather than a stop between other things. Several separate museums and vessels sit within the same complex and are ticketed independently.

Honolulu's downtown is a working city rather than a resort annexe. Chinatown, a few blocks of markets, lei stands, noodle shops and bars, holds the best and cheapest eating in the city and comes alive in the evening. Nearby stand the historic civic buildings and the art museum, whose Asian collection is outstanding. Further inland, the Bishop Museum is the single best place in the islands to understand Polynesian navigation, natural history and Hawaiian material culture — a proper museum, and the antidote to a week of beach.

The best food here is casual. Poke is sold by weight at supermarket and fish-market counters and is fresher and cheaper than any restaurant version. Plate lunch — two scoops of rice, macaroni salad, something grilled — is the everyday meal. Malasadas, the Portuguese-descended doughnuts, are worth queueing for; shave ice with a scoop of ice cream underneath is the afternoon ritual. Japanese, Korean and Filipino cooking is woven through the island's everyday eating, and the ramen in Honolulu is unusually good for a US city.

Honolulu's airport is the hub for the archipelago, and short inter-island flights reach Maui, Kaua'i and the Big Island in well under an hour, which makes a two-island trip realistic even on a week. On O'ahu itself, the public bus system is genuinely comprehensive and cheap, and covers Waikiki, downtown and Pearl Harbor comfortably; a car is what unlocks the North Shore and the windward coast. Traffic in and out of Honolulu at rush hour is heavy, and beach parking fills early at weekends.

The trade winds keep temperatures steady year-round; what changes is the surf. Winter brings large north-shore swell and dangerous shore break; summer flattens it and moves the bigger waves south. Swim at lifeguarded beaches, read the posted flags, and treat any advice about currents as literal rather than cautious. Reef-safe sunscreen is required by state law. On conduct: this is a place with a living culture, not a backdrop — do not touch or stand on coral, keep well clear of turtles and monk seals resting on sand, and take posted signage at sacred sites seriously.