Up the driveway I jandered, up the low steps, in the front door. And into the blissful cool of a lobby/reception area. Scott had told me the Iolani Palace was about a hundred and fifty years old, and now I could really feel it. Not that the place looked rundown. Far from it, it was perfectly maintained. But the very feel of the air hinted at the history that had passed through its doors, up its stairways, across its dark wood floors.