Is Shabby-Chic Honolulu Still The Best Deal In Hawaii?

We just spent a week in Waikiki, and Honolulu hit differently this time. The city is deep in drought, and it shows. Parks and medians are brittle and brown unless you’re standing on resort property, where the sprinklers amazingly still run. We saw more tents than usual, more graffiti, and a general sense of weariness in places that once felt more put-together. Some of the drives to even the nicest hotels didn’t look great. It wasn’t unsafe, but it wasn’t easy either.

And yet, it was a good trip. We had appointments, had conversations we couldn’t have had anywhere else, and ate some of the best food we’ve had all year. We spent $50 a day on a rental car. Our hotel came out to $200 a night, all-inclusive, with no resort fee, a great location, and no parking bill. We ate like kings for under $20 a meal. By Hawaii standards—or anywhere standards—that’s getting rare. Honolulu wasn’t glamorous. But it was genuine, overall enjoyable, and surprisingly affordable. And that’s what we want to share.

More and more visitors are landing on Oahu not because it’s their dream destination, but because it may be the only Hawaii island that still works for them. We get it.

Visitors are recalibrating.

Oahu didn’t suddenly get cheap. The other islands just got a whole lot more expensive, more complicated to manage, or both. Hotel rates on Maui have stayed sky high. Kauai’s vacation rentals keep disappearing, and nothing’s replacing them. The Big Island, although often cheaper, comes with fewer nonstop flights and significantly more driving to get anywhere.

For a growing number of visitors, Honolulu is the last Hawaii option that still works. And surprisingly, that’s not always a bad thing.

What we paid—and what we got.

For many years, we’ve included the Diamond Head Beach Hotel in our list of places to stay. It’s located near the famous Dillingham Fountain, away from the noise of Waikiki. It’s oceanfront without a beach. Our no-frills studio unit, which included a kitchenette, was $200 a night, all-inclusive. No resort fee. No parking charge (street parking is 50 cents an hour from 10 am to 6 pm). The best rates are available on Booking, Airbnb, and VRBO.

The hotel is conveniently located near Kaimana Beach and the Waikiki Aquarium. It’s about a 20-minute walk to the hula mound in Waikiki. Each unit is independently owned, so furnishings vary, with some units offering better amenities than others.

We ate great food, some of it James Beard-level, for under $20. Like at O’Kims in Chinatown. Other food choices included the Saturday Farmers’ Market at Kapiolani Community College, street food at Waikiki Food Truck Park and the multiple Hale ‘Aina award-winning, Nico’s Pier 38. Nothing felt luxurious, but nothing felt like a sacrifice in any way either. It was all delicious, and we’re both very picky about food.

And if nothing else, Honolulu is always fascinating. And we say that after decades of coming back, time and time again.

For free entertainment, we attended the Wednesday hula show at Kuhio Beach, titled “The Return of Kapaemahu.” The healer stones that give the show its name are located close by.

That’s what value looks like in Hawaii now: a solid, satisfying experience at a price point that still leaves room for a second trip—or at least a real dinner out.

The Honolulu contradiction still holds.

Honolulu might be the most layered place in the islands. You can stand in a royal palace, then walk ten minutes to a cracked sidewalk lined with graffiti. The Honolulu Museum of Art sits directly across the street from a stretch of visible homelessness, people living on sidewalks, not just in tents. High-end boutiques back up against boarded-up storefronts. It’s a city full of friction and contrast, historic, cultured, and visibly worn in places.

For travelers who know how to look past the filters and wander a little wider, it’s still deeply rewarding. For those expecting resort polish at every turn, it can be a real shock.

What we still find in Chinatown.

If there’s one place where Honolulu’s contradictions are on some of the fullest display, it’s Chinatown. Some visitors avoid it entirely. Others are uneasy walking through. But we’ve always found it fascinating, and we keep going back.

It’s a neighborhood where you’ll pass high-end restaurants like Senia and The Pig and the Lady, as well as boutique shops like Roberta Oaks and Owens & Co., all within steps of boarded-up buildings and cracked sidewalks. There’s history here, but not the kind that’s been polished for tourists. A few new hotels are due to move in, but so far, the soul of the place hasn’t been scrubbed out.

It can feel chaotic. It can feel uncomfortable. But it’s never dull. And in a city where much of the surface has been sanded smooth for visitor comfort, Chinatown still feels raw, unpredictable, and, if nothing else, real.

Why we always go back to Kaimuki.

Just a few minutes from Waikiki, Kaimuki is the kind of neighborhood most visitors miss, and we’re still not sure why. It’s one of the most walkable, welcoming, and food-rich spots in Honolulu. We always stop at The Curb for coffee, then browse the crack seed shop, and usually have lunch at Mud Hen Water or another favorite on Waialae. And we always stop at the James Beard semifinalist, Breadshop (pictured) where you still order from the street window.

It’s not flashy. It’s not curated. But it’s real, and somehow still holding onto its identity in a city that’s constantly under pressure to change and redevelop. If you want to understand what makes Oahu different from the other islands, Kaimuki is a good place to start.

The city feels rougher than before.

Even the drive into Waikiki makes that clear. What used to feel brighter and more energetic now appears worn and uneven. You’ll pass tired industrial corridors, aging infrastructure, shuttered storefronts, and long stretches of nothing particularly inviting. It’s not dramatic, but the slow fade is visible.

By the time you reach the resorts, the contrast is sharper. Luxury cars pull up to the curb while the housing crisis plays out blocks away. Honolulu still functions, but it shows its age.

It’s not unsafe. However, getting the most out of it now requires a bit more effort, and a little more patience.

Honolulu still reminds us of Papeete.

Honolulu, more than ever, reminds us of another city we know well: Papeete. Not because they’re the same, but because they both defy easy labels. They’re gritty, layered, often misunderstood, and sometimes disliked.

BOH editor Jeff calls Papeete “Paris meets Tijuana,” and honestly, parts of Honolulu feel that way now, too. Not for everyone. However, for those who linger, remain curious, and take a closer look, it still delivers. Not in spite of the rough edges, but sometimes because of them.

And the beaches? Still incredible.

For all of Honolulu’s contradictions, one thing hasn’t changed: the beaches are still exceptional. We swam at San Souci, watched families at Kaimana, sat quietly at Kahala, and walked the sand and swam in the water at Ala Moana Beach Park. Each one felt different, and each one felt right.

Outside Waikiki, the island keeps opening up. Waimanalo. Lanikai. The North Shore. Even after decades of exploring Oahu, these beaches still take our breath away.

Say what you will about the traffic, the concrete, or the city noise, Honolulu still gives you ocean access in a way few cities in the world ever could dream of.

What visitors are telling us.

Some of you have already made the shift to Oahu, albeit often reluctantly. One reader said, “Waikiki wasn’t my first choice, but everything else was out of reach. We made it work and ended up loving it.” Another told us, “I thought it would feel crowded and impersonal, but it turned out to be one of our best trips.”

It’s a different kind of Hawaii vacation. Not the postcard version, but one that’s still real, still functioning, and at times, surprisingly memorable.

What’s next.

Honolulu is still holding. Flights are full. Hotels are steady. There’s construction in some areas, while others are in decay. But the city continues to function, sometimes against the odds, and in a Hawaii travel landscape that feels less predictable all the time, that counts for something.

Would you trade Maui’s luxury for Oahu’s affordability? Have you discovered Honolulu’s quieter side yet? Let us know in the comments.

Lead Photo – Beat of Hawaii at Diamond Head Beach Hotel.