By Drew Limsky

On Hawaii's most popular island, traveling off the beaten path brings the most rewarding holiday experiences.

The worst thing about Waikiki Beach is its crowds, and the best thing about Waikiki Beach is its crowds. It's almost always high season in Waikiki, Greg Brady on a surfboard made sure of that 30 years ago. With high-rise hotels that don't so much line the beach as cluster along it like thick knots on a nautical rope, this thin, sandy crescent on Oahu's south shore has been the dream getaway of Middle Americans for generations. And they're here in full force, either ghost-white or dangerously sunburned, an alarming number of them morbidly obese, thronging the sidewalks. They're haphazardly dressed, in souvenir tank tops with armholes the size of whole watermelon rinds, a line of 25 of them in a desperate queue, waiting at 10 in the morning for the Cheesecake Factory to open up. I don't know about you, but eight-inch tall slabs of cake from a nationwide chain don't quite say "aloha" to me.

So what is the best thing about the crowds in Waikiki? They stay in Waikiki, leaving the rest of Oahu to anyone who is the tiniest bit adventurous. In Waikiki, that means anyone who has bothered to rent a car. Heck, even a 15-minute walk from the beach town's frenetic center can yield a measure of serenity. There's a lot to see and love on this island, which truly has as much to offer as any of the outer islands (Maui, Kauai) that have long eclipsed it among the chic set. Oahu has been so long out of fashion that it's in again.

Truth be told, Waikiki without all those people, is lovely. Kalakaua Avenue, the main street that runs parallel to the beach, is immaculate and it's improving commercially. Some of the cookie-cutter circa-1971 hotels are coming down, to be replaced by others that hopefully will look a little less Hawaii Five-O. On some blocks, high-end shops (Diesel, Gucci, Tiffany) even outnumber the ubiquitous ABC convenience stores (37 in Waikiki alone). The jogging paths and outrigger canoeing on Ala Wai Canal, just a few blocks parallel to the shore, may also surprise you with the way they represent the unique scenic appeal of Hawaii.

And the afternoon's golden light and the sight of Diamond Head still work their magic, especially when viewed from your terrace at the Halekulani, the sleek, Asian-accented luxury hotel that is one of the best in the state. The top rooms, including the newly unveiled suite designed by Vera Wang, offer jaw-dropping, panoramic views of the beach that culminate in that famous diamond peak. For those who can pony up the cost, the Halekulani is serenity defined, with rich teak interiors, grassy courtyards, and a creatively tiled oceanside pool. Treatments at Spa Halekulani begin with a strangely invigorating ritual foot pounding, and once inside your treatment room, you are given a choice of music and temperatures.

And there's no denying that Waikiki contains Oahu's only gay scene of note. Different stretches of Waikiki have their own names, and Hula's, the bar with the lively terrace scene that goes all day and all night, is convenient to the gay beach, which, appropriately enough, is called Queen's. Queen's is a beautiful, peaceful spot near Kapiolani Park with a rock jetty, a snack bar, and a strolling strip. It is the best place (maybe the only place) on Waikiki where you can feel comfortable in your Speedo. Though the beach here is tiny and a little rocky, and the crowd isn't going to rival Miami Beach for pulchritude, the swimming is decent, and you can lie out on either the sand or on the palm grove above it.

Rent a car -- make it a convertible -- and your trip to Oahu will be unforgettable. An hour's drive up dramatic, coastal Highway 72 will bring you to the funky, laid-back beach town of Kailua, and its neighbor Lanikai. With its movie star homeowners (Michelle Pfeiffer is one) and its multi-leveled homes accessible to the beach by narrow stairways and footpaths, residential Lanikai is the Laguna Beach of Oahu. The beach is great for walking or swimming; there may or may not be a gay crowd, but the locals are too cool to care what you're doing or who you're with. Stop in for a burger in a shack called Buzz's to taste the true Lanikai vibe.

A drive to the north shore, fabled for its surfing scene, is also worthwhile. Winters are perfect for watching the 30-foot waves roll in; there's a reason Hawaii is called the drowning capital of the world, so wait for a summer visit if you want to swim at Sunset Beach, one of the north shore's most gorgeous. Even then (and this goes for all the beaches on the Hawaiian islands), heed the warning flags, and check with the lifeguard about conditions before venturing in. Café Haleiwa is the place to go for breakfast or lunch -- lots of military and surfer eye-candy.

Waikiki, while no Paris, does have good dining, often with atmosphere to spare. Run, don't walk, to the Hanohano Room at the top of the Sheraton Waikiki. The setting is very Towering Inferno (great views), and the cuisine is inspired, with a new fine-dining menu. The seared foie gras is top notch. Also save a night for Michel's fine French, much of it prepared tableside. It's a real special occasion venue -- if you snag a table by the window you'll be almost arm's length from swaying palms and the soft, nighttime surf. Halekulani's fine dining restaurant, Le Mer, serves up exquisite delicacies like scallops with boursin ravioli. For Hawaiian regional cooking in a more casual setting, try the Diamond Head Grill in the Balinese-inspired W Hotel.

Of the many hotels right on Waikiki Beach, only a handful are choice. The century-old Moana Surfrider, now a Sheraton, is the oldest hotel here, and it's a lovely Victorian, painstakingly restored. Be sure to have breakfast on the ocean-facing veranda, where ladies in traditional garb wheel wooden carts to your table, and set down three-tiered continental breakfast samplers in front of you. The hotel surrounds one of the world's largest Banyan trees, planted in 1885, and the common areas boast historical photos and artifacts attesting to Waikiki's birth as a resort destination, the place where the richest of the rich once disembarked with their Bentleys and their household staffs to stay for the winter. Tip: the units ending in 24 are small but well-appointed corner rooms with all-water views.

The Moana's sister hotel, the Royal Hawaiian, retains its Moorish charm. It's still hot pink, with striking royal blue urns resting in niches in the roofline. The Abhasa Spa offers an array of treatments utilizing local ingredients. Dine alfresco in the Surf Room, or next door at Duke's for fresh grilled fish, burgers, and pizza. Grey's Beach, in front of the Royal's famed cordoned-off sandbox, is known to draw a gay crowd on weekends, but the day I emerged from the water there, a bovine Midwestern Buddha took one look at me and drawled, "He wouldn't last five minutes at home in a bikini like that." Needless to say, on my local, non-road trip days, I stuck to Queen's.

For the ultimate in luxury, the Halekulani battles it out with the Mandarin Oriental, a 10-minute drive away in Kahala, the Beverly Hills of Oahu. The Mandarin still retains cool retro '60s touches from the days when it was Conrad Hilton's showplace, and it has some impressive features, not the least of which is a private sandy beach, elegant alfresco cabana dining, and onsite dolphin encounters (a must-try experience). Hoku's is one of Oahu's best fusion restaurants: tasty dishes include the dim-sum and the kiawe-grilled tiger prawns. The guest rooms have luscious canopy beds and expansive bathrooms.

Both the Halekulani and the Mandarin are at the forefront of the private spa suite trend. There are no communal spa areas per se, though the Mandarin has a men's wet area "Jacuzzi, steam" off the gym. Instead, your treatment suite becomes your private sanctuary with a steam-shower (the Halekulani), or an infinity soaking tub (the Mandarin).

The Mandarin is one of those hotels with a sophisticated, beautiful-people following. Best of all was its strong gay presence: I counted a half-dozen gay couples, some in Speedos and square-cuts, and not one drawled protest could be heard around the shimmering oval pool.