So, I was saddened this weekend to find it in ruins.
The thatch-roof stalls were empty and dilapidated. The tiki torches had all burnt out and mostly fallen to the ground. The Hawaiian-shirted salespeople vanished. And the lone surviving tiki had fallen into a state of hideous neglect, serving no other purpose now, but to hold up a leaning, handpainted, plywood sign reading "Tiki museum for sale."