The first few days of our cruise passed slowly, peacefully, but somehow, we blinked and it was Friday--time for Cozumel, our last port of call.
We were excited to visit Cozumel, all of us for different reasons. Hannah was beyond excited, because she and Kim were swimming with dolphins, the highlight of Hannah's trip. (She's gonna be a dolphin trainer someday, and knows exactly how to get the dolphins to come play with us.)
The boys booked a snorkel trip, and couldn't wait to dive in the coral reefs.
As for me...well, I wanted to get in the water too, but not really in the water. I thought about snorkeling with the boys, until Tim explained that they were going into rough waters on a small 8-man fishing boat. Since I get sea sick just looking at small boats and/or rough water, I immediately declined, opting instead for a trip on a semi-submersible boat with my parents.
We found our group and lined up on the dock with them. I glanced around, noticing I was the youngest person there by a good 40 years, save for one lone little kid with her parents. Apparently, I was the only adult under 80 who'd chosen not to snorkel.
But whatever. We climbed aboard our vessel, which looked like a boat from the top, but like a submarine from inside. The bottom deck had one long bench down the middle, and windows all along the sides. We joked that it was kinda like the old Disneyland submarine ride, and sure enough, when the boat took off, rows of bubbles covered the windows.
The boat headed for the reefs, which were in a protected area. Along the way, we saw all sorts of cool fish, including about a million little zebra fish, blue tangs and even a some barracuda and shovel-nosed guitar fish.
At first the reefs were just kind of interesting, but not spectacular. Then I realized we were on the wrong side of the boat, because once they turned us around, we saw the most amazing coral reefs ever! We saw huge fan corals waving gently in the drifts, and giant brain coral all along the shallow floor. Our guide pointed out brown coral, and said that coral was sleeping, then bright purple coral, which he said was awake.
We motored slowly through the shallow water, followed by an endless parade of brightly-colored parrot fish, zebras and blue tangs. There was a whole rainbow of fish--silver, white, maroon, so many that it felt like we were looking into a giant aquarium (which we kind of were, in a way). One curious maroon fish swam right up to my dad's window, then turned sideways so he could look directly at my dad. He gave my dad the side-eye for a minute or two, then swam off. I guess we weren't the only creatures interested in what was on the other side of the window!
Our guide told us how strictly the government monitored this protected area--divers and snorkelers were allowed in, but couldn't touch the coral or animals at all; he said that a single touch kills the coral in a matter of moments. Divers can't even wear diving gloves or bring knives in, because they might be tempted to touch the coral with those.
I just stared at all the fish while he droned on about the safety measure. I couldn't believe how many there were when suddenly, something caught my eye--a little bit of food the fish all pounced on.
"I think they're feeding the fish!" I gasped, pointing it out to my dad.
"These feesh, they come straight to our boat," the guide said in heavily accented English. "Maybe it's because of all the tortillas the crew feeds them."
I looked at him, as did a few other people.
"They are Mexican feesh," he explained. "So they like Mexican food!"
I just shook my head.
We drifted out into the deeper waters, where the coral was more scarce but much larger. (It grows best in the sunny, shallow water, but bigger in the deep water where it has to work to get up to the sunlight.) This was also where the bigger fish hung out--we saw tons of barracuda, and even better, giant schools of snapper swimming in a tight-knit massive cloud. There were hundreds of fish in each school (we saw two or three schools), all of them sticking close together to appear as one large mass to any interested predators.
I wanted to see some sharks or sea turtles, but there are no sharks in the area, and summer is sea turtle season. I also thought it'd be cool to wave at Tim and the boys snorkeling by, but we didn't see them.
After a few trips around the reefs, the boat headed back in. We returned to the dock excited and completely stoked. We also got back very early--it was only 10:15 in the morning!
The plan was to all meet up at El Presidente hotel around noon. Tim and Kim honeymooned there, and were excited to return 18 years later.
My parents and I strolled around the little shopping mall for a couple minutes, sampling rum cake and trying not to get swindled by the vendors. (One guy tried to sell me a brightly painted gourd mobile for $35.) It was getting hot, so we decided to go directly to the hotel and wait for the group there.
We drove through the city, which was busy, busy, busy. There were six cruise ships in town, and the streets were overflowing with tourists and aggressive street vendors hawking their wares. After three days on the ship and two days in beach towns, I was tired of people coming at me or grabbing me to get my attention. I didn't want any cheesy souvenirs, and I was tired of people looking at me and seeing dollar signs--I wanted a little peace and quiet.
El Presidente was just the cure. I was a little worried at first--there was an armed guard at the gate into the hotel, and he let us in, reluctantly, when we said we were meeting friends for lunch. The bellman greeted us warmly, but immediately lead us to the front desk, where I had to surrender my ID. I wasn't sure why they needed my ID, but I gave them my driver's license.
We walked through the open lobby, and onto a tiny private beach. Now THIS was what I was looking for! There were palapas covering chaise lounges, and smooth, white sand melting into a turquoise sea.
We napped lazily in the
chaise lounges. My parents went for a walk around the grounds, and I
thought about joining them, but it was just so peaceful, I fell asleep
instead. I was 100 percent relaxed when they returned.
There were no vendors or cruise ship passengers around, just sun, sand and a few nosy iguanas sunning themselves.
Tim and the boys showed up a couple hours later, a lot worse for wear. Their snorkeling trip didn't go nearly as well as our trip, and the boys looked a little sick.
Apparently, they were the first passengers onto the little boat, which was supposed to hold 8 passengers but ended up with 20. Tim thought they'd head directly out to the reefs, which they eventually did, after making three stops to pick up other passengers. He said they putt-putted through the marina at approximately 2 mph for 45 minutes, party music blaring through the speakers, at which point poor Nicholas got sea sick.
It didn't get much better out at sea. Nic and Mark had trouble with their snorkels and ditched them. Which meant they had to surface every couple minutes for air, and were promptly slammed by the waves in the rough waters. Tim said they worked hard, swimming their hearts out, but finally had to give up because of the constant pounding.
As the boat made its slow return to the city, Tim decided he was done. They didn't even go back to their port--they just jumped off the boat at the first stop, and caught a taxi out of the marina. By the time they reached us, they were all starving, queasy, and a little pale.
Tim enjoyed the trip a little more than the boys did. He used his snorkel and didn't fight the waves. He figured the photos on the company web site were enhanced, so his expectations were very low. The boys were not impressed by the reef of sea stars or coral--they were looking for sharks or other cool predators.
"I wasn't expecting much, so I was pleasantly surprised," Tim said. "But the boys were expecting a lot more, so they were disappointed."
Mark was a little more blunt than Tim.
"It sucked," he said, flatly. "Worst trip ever." Nic nodded in agreement.
But it wasn't anything a little lunch couldn't cure. The boys scarfed down their lunches (and half of mine), and we enjoyed the beautiful restaurant and fantastic view.
Kim and Hannah showed up halfway through lunch. They had a great time--Hannah was very excited and showed off all the photos she bought. They'd arrived early, and got lots of time before and after their dolphin encounter. Hannah the future-dolphin-trainer was in heaven.
And Kim was in heaven, too. Being back at the hotel flooded her with memories. It was fun to listen to Kim and Tim re-live their trip 18 years prior. The hotel hadn't changed at all, but Tim and Kim's family sure had!
Mark was tired after his trip, but Nic was a little antsy (and queasy) after sitting so long. He was also anxious to hunt down some iguanas, and lit up when I said I'd seen a couple earlier, scarfing down hibiscus flowers. We went off in search of them, and found four or five throughout the resort. He tried to feed one big guy and even tried a taste test (does he prefer red flowers or white?) but the big guy was having none of it.
By the afternoon, it was hot, hot, hot. My parents went back to the boat to escape the heat and the rest of us ended up at the pool. It was so nice to relax in the quiet hotel--I felt a million miles away from the throng of cruise ship passengers.
Tim still wanted to see the town, so a couple hours later, we packed up our stuff, reclaimed our IDs, and taxied into town.
We bought a few last souvenirs, and headed back to the boats. The humidity got the best of us as we dragged ourselves down the long dock. But relief was just ahead, in the form of cruise staff, who handed us cool, wet washcloths for our faces, and cups of water or lemonade. We took them all gladly, spritzed ourselves with hand sanitizer, and climbed aboard our home-away-from-home one last time.
We were sad to leave our final port of call, but at least we still had one last sea day left. And I had all these amazing, hilarious memories of a week with spent with some of my very favorite people--it was truly a wonderful week, and I felt so lucky to have shared it with my family.
I waved sadly to Cozumel as our ship set sail one last time. I felt like Norman Paperman in Don't Stop the Carnival--this week was a blast, but hey Mr. Paperman, it was time to go home.
We sailed in to Mexico for our second shore day--Costa Maya, to be exact. I'd never even heard of Costa Maya before.
"Because it's a made-up city," Tim explained. "The government built it so the cruise ships would stop."
Well, it sure worked, because there was another ship already docked when we got there, and a third one pulled in shortly after.
We walked a lot on our Jamaica day, which took a toll on my dad. My mom decided afterwards that he should skip Costa Maya, although she phrased it a little less delicately.
"We voted you off the island," she told my Dad. "You're staying on board when we get to Mexico."
We all cracked up, but my dad didn't really mind. He was thrilled to park himself poolside and claim his spot at the soft-serve ice cream machine. But it turns out karma has a sense of irony, because my mom woke up feeling a bit dodgy, and didn't go on land either. We were all disappointed, Tim most of all.
"She WHAT?!?" Tim gasped, when I told him Mom wasn't coming with us. I was touched by his concern, until he added, "She's our translator! Today's the only day we really need her, and she's letting me down!" I guess he inherited empathy from my mom.
But hey, it's Tim, so even a missing translator didn't really slow him down. He was going to get us to the big tourist destination in town--Mayan ruins--with or without my mom.
We exited the pier through an outdoor mall filled with souvenir shops and guys in warrior costumes who took pictures with us.
"Smile!" Kim called out, as the photographer snapped us. "Look scared of the Aztecs!"
"Mayans," one warrior corrected, and she answered back, "Aztecs, Mayans, same thing." He frowned and I smiled, quickly guiding us away before they turned into REAL warriors and attacked us.
To my chagrin (but not surprise), Tim stomped right past all the buses and vested people, and glanced around. He literally stood in front of every tour guide and bus driver in the city, and the only question he had for them was, "Where are the taxis?" This port didn't have a fence, but if it did, Tim would've been looking for a driver on the other side of it.
I knew the ruins were far away--45 minutes to 2 hours, depending on which ones you went to. "Can you even take a taxi out to the ruins?" I asked a friendly-looking tour guide.
He shifted around nervously. "You can," he started. "But...they only spend an hour out there, and none of them speak English. My tour is only $35 a person--you get an English-speaking guide, an air-conditioned bus, and a couple hours to walk around."
That sounded perfect to me, but Tim was already gone.
"He said the drivers don't speak English!" I called out to Tim.
"Whatever," Tim scoffed. I think he forgot that we were English-only speakers, except for Nic and Hannah, who also speak French--not that it did us any good in Mexico.
Even at 8 a.m., it was already hot and humid. I followed Tim, watching the other cruise passengers drive away in air conditioned buses, and I knew I wasn't going to be nearly as lucky.
Tim did find us a very nice cab driver named Valentine. He proved the other tour guide correct by being just as proficient as English as we were at Spanish--which is to say, not at all. We spent the first few minutes asking questions, pretending like we understood his answers. He was kind and spoke slowly, patiently, but that didn't make us understand any better.
We asked how far away the ruins were. Valentine mimed the road, pushing his arm out straight, and flashing 10 fingers at us twice. Suddenly, he jutted his arm left, and flashed his 10 fingers twice more. He was completely accurate--we drove straight down the road for 20 minutes, until suddenly the road turned a sharp left. Twenty minutes after that, we arrived at the ruins.
When I go on vacation, I research everything--where we're going, what we're seeing, why it's important, and the history behind it all. This trip was a little different--Tim did all the planning, and I just followed along. Which was really freeing, except that now, I had no idea where we were, or what we were seeing.
Valentine turned onto a small dirt path, which opened up unexpectedly to a tiny parking lot. He pointed toward the entrance and a winding path, tapped his watch and held up one finger, indicating we should return in an hour. We headed toward the ruins.
The place was gorgeous. It was a tropical rain forest, filled with tall plants, palm trees and birds whooshing by overheard. Someone warned us about monkeys, which immediately set Mark and Nic off in a fit of monkey-calls, but luckily, they were the only howlers we encountered.
I walked leisurely past a group of tourists just as the tour guide was telling them the name of this old town.
"We call it 'Chacchoben,'" she said. "It means 'red corn,' which was a staple in the Mexican diet. You couldn't grow a lot out here because of the weather, but you could always grow corn."
I overheard another guide say that Chacchoben had two seasons--hot and VERY HOT--and I was glad we were visiting during the first one,. Still, by 9:15 a.m., I was drenched in sweat.
The ruins were awesome.
A second set of ruins featured a huge stone staircase leading up a hill, which the kids immediately ran up. I decided I didn't get many chances like this, and went too, praising and thanking my bad knee, hoping it didn't give out halfway up. It did me a solid, and didn't.
The view from the top was spectacular. We stood over the treetops, and you could see the flat, swampy land go on for miles. It was truly breath-taking.
Some tourists were taking photos in front of a grand pyramid. As I waited for them to finish, I saw my family disappear out of my peripheral vision. I wasn't worried, because it was a small area, and there was only one way in to and out of the ruins, but damned if they didn't lose me while I was snapping my photo. (This is not uncommon when traveling with Tim--he has ditched me at literally every amusement park we've ever visited. But this is the first time he ever ditched me in a desolate rain forest, a foreign land, where I don't speak the language.)
So I wandered the grounds on my own, enjoying the lush, peaceful tree tunnels and the dry soil crunching under my feet. I admired the giant crumbling structures, occasionally eavesdropping on the tours. It was very cool.
When I was done, I stood at the end of the path, where eventually my family showed up, asking where I'd been.
"We lost you, Auntie Heather!" Nic cried. But happily, we all ended up back together, including Valentine, for which I was grateful. (It was a loooooong drive back to the town otherwise!) I was even more grateful when Valentine turned up the A/C full-blast, reminding me again how completely unsuited I am to live in a tropical climate.
Valentine drove us back toward the city, then turned off the main drag, dropping us off for an afternoon in Muhahual, a sleepy little beach town.
Muhahual had shops on one side and a beach full of outdoor cafes on the other. We walked in between, looking at souvenirs and dodging the persistent vendors.
The family ducked into the first pharmacy they saw, trying to remedy our sunscreen shortage. I saw something better than a pharmacy--a rickety old wooden dock that ended in a sea of turquoise water. It called to me, and to my camera, and I answered.
I called to Mark, and motioned that I was heading down to the water. He acknowledged me with a nod, but apparently didn't think to share this info with anyone else.
The dock was cool, but the view of the beach was even cooler. It looked like a beach right out of a calendar--white sandy beaches filled with palm trees and blue water as far as you could see. Every kind of water toy you could imagine bobbed along the water's edge--kayaks, jet skis, fishing boats, even a giant banana boat roared by us with a load of kids clinging tight and screaming happily.
I finished taking photos and returned to the pharmacy, where my family no longer was. I looked around, but true to form, they'd ditched me again. Oh well, at least I could see our ship in the distance, and if they were gonna leave me behind, this place wasn't half bad.
Eventually, the boys found me, calling out the joke they'd repeated the entire cruise. "Heather!" they called. "Heather, is that you?" They feigned surprise, as though we were acquaintances running into each other unexpectedly at the local grocery store.
They'd found their sunscreen, and were now on the prowl for something more substantial--lunch. The cafes all looked the same, inviting, and each had at least a couple guys waving menus and calling out to us, which made it hard to pick just one place. They offered us everything--free beer, appetizers, margaritas (even for the kids!). We listened to one guy's spiel at the Krazy Lobster, and as he was selling us, a tourist couple stopped and told us they'd just eaten the best lunch ever. That did the trick, and in we went.
It was the most perfect little beach cafe. We walked through the warm sand, past hammocks swinging from palm trees, which Mark immediately called dibs on. The host led us to a table under a palapa and more palm trees, about 10 feet from the water.
Tim ordered appetizers and a bucket of beer right away. It was a good move, because like Jamaica, Mexico runs on island time, and our lunch didn't show up for another hour.
But boy, was it good when it came! Mark, Tim, Kim and I ordered the lobster covered in butter and garlic (emphasis on the garlic!) and it was seriously good. We loaded up our fresh tortillas with rice and lobster, and didn't talk for half an hour, other than to say how amazing that lunch was.
As soon as they finished, the kids jumped back from the table, and ran out to the water. They repeatedly jumped off the dock, splashing around in the ocean. I wanted to join them, but the warm sun, full belly, and beer all did me in. I opted instead for the chaise lounges on the beach, where I could lazily dip my toes into the water and not drown.
In addition to the food and prime beach location, the restaurant also offered free kayaks. I opened my eyes just in time to see Hannah and the boys slipping away in them.
Hannah was a natural. She glided through the ocean like she'd done this all her life, cutting silently through the waves. The boys, on the other hand, were not nearly as graceful. Nic was headed out to sea in the opposite direction, and Mark was 20 or 30 yards behind him. Two minutes later, Mark proved without a doubt that he's my child by flipping his kayak, then splashing helplessly as it sank (while water flooded his kayak, memories flooded my mind, recalling my similar, yet far more panicky, kayak trip in Catalina).
I watched him struggle as the kayak sank. Because the water was shallow, barely three feet deep, it was more funny than scary. Tim dragged it back to shore for him, and I can say from experience that a water-logged kayak weighs about 700 pounds and is nearly impossible to empty.
Mark didn't even try--he just grabbed a new kayak and set out to sea again. Hannah glided past him, handing him his paddle, which she'd grabbed when his ship went down, and then she was gone again.
I returned to my lounger, where Kim joined me. We admired the view, finished our beers, and realized this was how life should always be. We also realized how hard it would be to return to work next week. We were good at lying around all day at the beach, drinking beer and relaxing, and we never wanted it to end.
But eventually, like all other good things, it did end. We packed up our stuff, grabbed a couple cabs, and headed back toward the ship. Apparently, our drivers were race car drivers in another life, because they flew through the empty town, screeching around corners and racing through driveways to avoid the speed bumps in the road.
"These would be awesome cabs during the Amazing Race!" Kim said, and I wholeheartedly agreed.
Our last stop was a brief one in the little government mall. There were two touristy bars sharing a pool, and the boys, still wet from the beach, hopped right on in. Hannah stole Tim's camera and disappeared onto the beach, where there were pools of dolphins you could pay to swim with.
Tim, Kim and I grabbed a table poolside, and ordered drinks. The waitress reappeared with our drinks--a couple beers and sodas in tacky, giant plastic palm tree glasses.
"I got this round, Tim," I said, pulling a twenty out of my wallet. "How much is it?"
"Thirty-six," the waitress said.
I did the math in my head--the entrance fee at the ruins was 48 pesos, or four bucks. If these drinks were 36, that was only three bucks--what a bargain!
"U.S.," the waitress added, which didn't quite register.
"U.S. what?" I asked.
"Dollars," she said, shrugging. "The drinks are 36 U.S. dollars."
"For two beers and three sodas?" I yelped, and she shrugged again, but this time it was a "what are you gonna do?" type shrug. I stared at her, still not comprehending, until the boys swam off with their drinks. When I realized I was burnt and there was no way out of this, I grudgingly handed over two twenties, and tried (unsuccessfully) to get over it.
But honestly, who am I to complain? That was the worst thing that happened to me the entire trip, being gouged for drinks. Mexico earned a little more of my money than I'd expected, but in return, I got to climb ancient ruins, chow down on grilled lobster and fresh tortilas, and lounge in the sand as the water lapped at my toes.
I definitely came out ahead. :-)
I spent last week cruising the Western Caribbean with my family. It was so much fun, my face still hurts from laughing.
We started our trip in Miami, where I was stoked to meet up with my favorite Floridian--my friend Lori. She was really happy to see my parents, too. During our visit, my dad shared a story about a trip to Germany, but struggled to remember the name of the little town where he stayed. We waited while he tried to recall it, but my impatient mom chided him, saying, "Make it up! Make it up! They don't know the difference!"
Lori and I erupted into laughter. She looked at me and said, "Oh my God, now I know where you get it from!" I just nodded.
Lori took us to my very favorite Greek restaurant, Opa Taverna, where we loaded up on Greek appetizers. She wouldn't let me break any plates this time, though.
Tim, Kim and their kids arrived later that evening. I was exhausted because I'd been up since 3:45 California time (after sleeping only 4 hours), and could barely think straight. Mark, however, has a much younger, less fuzzy brain, and ran off to a second dinner with them. I realized I'm an old fuddy-duddy that night, while I was drifting off to sleep in my hotel room on a Saturday night and Mark was out partying it up in Miami.
We boarded the ship the next morning, eager to get onto the seas. The whole family gathered on deck as the ship sailed away, the weather warm and sunny.
We watched South Beach slip past us, and cheered the coming days. Then we headed to the main dining room for our first meal of the cruise.
Dinner did not disappoint. I had lobster (the first of three for the week!), and Mark ordered fettuccine Alfredo.
"Order something I can't make at home!" I told him, pointing at the menu. "I can make pasta!"
Except I really can't. Not like that, anyway--his pasta was the best dish served, so good we ordered another plate and passed it around the table, family style.
The boat was such a blast. It was HUGE--the third largest cruise ship in the world, I read, and took a little while to orient yourself. I liked that it was much more casual than other cruises I've been on--no dressing up for dinner (unless you wanted to), which meant packing less luggage. Loved that!
The coolest thing about it was the boat was the entertainment. It was awesome--we saw the Blue Man Group, Cirque du Soleil, a Second City improv troupe, and a hypnotist we liked so much, we went to three of her shows. They also had a dueling piano bar (fun!) a blues club (we walked in with three hyper kids at a very quiet moment between songs, then immediately left), and a bowling alley. Tim, Kim and the kids spent most of their time in the pools or on the water slides, while my mom and I traveled around to all the wine tastings and demos.
I'm a white wine drinker, but my mom prefers reds, so during the tasting, I traded my reds for her whites. As I was filling her glass with one wine, she asked "What is it?" then dismissively waved her hand and said, "I don't care!"
I cracked up. Neither of our palettes were all that discriminating after the first few glasses! The only uncomfortable moment came at the end of the tasting, when we walked out, happy and laughing, and realized we had to exit right through an Alcoholic's Anonymous meeting (talk about bad planning on the cruise director's part!). I pulled it together long enough to zip past them, but I didn't exhale until we were safely away from them.
We also learned how to decorate a cake (although the volunteers showed us how NOT to decorate it!), how to make sushi, and realized Mark's future career choice should be a teppanyaki chef. He can tap and bang things together all he wants, and he loves to be center stage, so it's the perfect job for him!
Another family favorite was the ship's ice bar. It was a chilly 17 degrees inside, and everything was, in fact, made of ice. The bar, the benches, even giant ice sculptures of a Viking and a polar bear. The adults slurped down vodka drinks, and the kids enjoyed non-alcoholic drinks. Well, Mark enjoyed them anyway--he tossed back three in about 15 minutes!
My family came into the bar so loudly (I know, big surprise), protesting the cold (hey, we're wimpy Californians!) and taking a million photos in about three minutes. We finally settled down, until Hannah quietly said, "Hey Dad, can I take off my parka?"
Tim said, "Sure!" and we cheered on brave, crazy Hannah. We were cracking up at her standing there in a thin sun dress, shivering in the cold.
Of course, Nicholas took that as a challenge. ("I always take Hannah's good ideas, and make them worse," he told me later).
"Hey Dad, can I take off my SHIRT?" he asked, already stripping it off.
And off it came! It stayed off for a couple couple minutes as Nic posed, guns blazing, us laughing. I finally told him to put it back on before he got hypothermia and he asked, shocked, "Can that really happen?"
Things I did not enjoy nearly as much included the line at the purser's office. I stood in it the first time to set a spending limit on Mark's card key. (The key was linked directly to my credit card.) Mark stood beside me grousing the entire time, trying to convince me that he's very responsible, almost grown up, and that I should quit treating him like a baby.
"I'm not gonna lose my key!" he complained.
I wavered, then agreed. "You're right," I said. "You're almost 14--I do trust you."
I stood in line at the purser's desk for the second time a scant four hours later, after I found Mark standing in front of our cabin, locked out, and he admitted he'd lost his key.
"Already?" I asked, sighing. This time I DID block his card, and he was smart enough not to challenge me on it.
The third time, when Mark de-activated his room key, I sent him to the purser's office alone.
"Why do I have to do it?" he whined.
"You told me you're responsible now," I reminded him. "So take care of it. You can't get on or off the boat without a key, so decide whether or not you want to see Jamaica." To his credit, he did take care of it.
Other memorable moments on the ship included our daily greeting at the buffet. Each time, the same loud, happy crew member waved a a bottle of hand sanitizer at us, shouting out "Washy, washy!" Sometimes she shook things up a bit, adding "Happy, happy" or "Smiley, smiley" and sometimes she called out all three. If I close my eyes, "Washy, washy, happy, happy, smiley, smiley" still haunts me!
The whole vacation was just amazing. I loved the time with my family, and the memories that we shared, including the washy, washy lady and the Jamaican life guard. I think Mark ate his weight in hamburgers and drank MY weight in Shirley Temples. We came back tan, relaxed, and very, very happy. And I'm pretty sure that's what vacations are all about.
Tomorrow, I'll share pix and stories from our ports of call.
