CRUISE II: THE SEQUEL

starring:

Jenni, Matt, Wendy, Cindi, Jumi, and the S.S. Razzmatazz (also known as the Costa Mediterranea)

special appearances by:

Andre, the assistant pastor, Pepe (gay or Italian), DJ Nick and the Helper Monkey, Niner, Mr. Pizza and Maxine, Jones, Sneaky Pete, Arsenio, Lamp, Imelda Marcos, Dragon Lady and Dragon Lady Junior, Arsenal and Man U, Towel, Roque, Jersey and his family, Patrick Swayze, Bungee Cord, Droopy and Shingles, Ukulele Hero, Mark Boney, Gerald, Rocky, Chris, Jaime, Joseph, Humberto, Falco, Walter from Uruguay, Massimo, the Oesterreicher Dyker, and Disposo.

[To view the entire Flickr photoset, go here!]

Saturday morning, we got up at 3:45am. It hurt, but we survived out of sheer determination to get to the ocean as soon as possible. It was cold in Minnesota. I went to pick up Cindi while Matt retrieved Wendy, then we met at my mom’s; we wanted to bring both our cars out there in case there was a snow emergency in Minneapolis while we were gone.

Our flight was delayed about 20 minutes because they had trouble closing one of the cargo doors. Once they finally got it duct-taped shut, we had to wait for the de-icing truck to spray us off. My irritation over having to wait was mitigated by watching the de-icing process. It was kind of fascinating. However, we had a 25-minute connection in Memphis.

We arrived in Tennessee a little late, and rushed to the gate. Thankfully, most of the other flights arriving were also running late, so we were in no danger of missing it.

I knitted, Matt and I had a snack, we played cards, and then we had a very long conversation with a guy stuck behind the beverage carts trying to get to the bathroom. We talked about tattoos, where we lived, and then our jobs. We did a very good job of not reacting when he told us he was the assistant pastor for a church in St Paul. When we saw him later at the airport, he gave me his card. It was the flashiest clergyman businesscard ever. I’m guessing his church is actually pretty cool.

We got our bags, and took a taxi van to the cruise ship docks. (If you’re going on a cruise, don’t pre-book the shuttle service from the airport. Cabs are about $6/person, at least half the price.) Embarkation was really quick, because we were so early; we were on the ship by 2pm, and ready to start the show.

my fancy new frequent-cruiser card.

We went to check out our cabin, then all went up to the card room to talk to the maitre d’ because, as usual, they’d assigned us to the wrong dinner time, and put us at separate tables. I have no idea how to keep Costa from doing this every time, but it’s not really a big deal to switch to late dinner. It gave us time to hang out and drink coffee while looking at the creepy cherubs suspended from the ceiling in that room we know so well.

After switching to the late dinner, we went up to the buffet for lunch. None of us had really eaten much all day, so we were starving. We took our food out onto the back deck, got us some cocktails (a mojito should always be the first beverage consumed on a cruise), and it was already the best vacation ever.

We found our suitcases waiting in the cabin when we returned. We unpacked, then perhaps removed our clothing and celebrated. Afterwards, we sat on our balcony and watched the people on the two other cruise ships doing their muster drill. Because we weren’t leaving til 7pm (during the first dinner), we didn’t have to muster til 5pm the next day, after leaving Key West. I assume they don’t require it til you’re actually leaving the U.S., but I’m not sure how that works.

matt on our balcony

We went up to the very top deck by the smokestack to meet Wendy, Cindi, and Jumi, who were hanging around like hooligans. After a trip to the pool bar, we found the bocce balls out on the court, so we played. You know what’s hard? Playing bocce on a ship. And it wasn’t even moving yet.

still empty!

cruise ship bocce

As 7pm neared, we went downstairs and took up spots on deck chairs at the back of the ship. Right after dark, the ship started heading out to sea. The whistle blew, and I started crying. I was so damn excited to finally be there with the people I love most.

We changed and headed to dinner, where a bottle of champagne was waiting. The menu struck me as more impressive than last time; I had papaya with Cointreau, broccoli soup, vegetable lasagna, and sugar-free apple crumble. We decided that we wanted fruit with liquor on it for breakfast every day. It was the new cereal.

After dinner, we hung out at the Talia Lounge right outside the restaurant on deck 2. This would later be renamed “Pete’s Place”, but we didn’t know him yet. There was a duo singing the greatest hits of the 70s and 80s, and a few people dancing. After that, we headed to the front of the ship to Giardino Isolabella, one of the few bars Wendy and I hadn’t been to last time. We’d only set foot in the place and noticed that it was 1) pimp, with round booths and a fancy stage, and 2) empty. It was still fairly empty, but we took up a table and ordered drinks anyway.

There were a couple groups at tables at the front, and we soon discovered they were the band. Once they got on stage and started playing, we were the only audience. They were excellent, and we felt bad leaving after a while. We finally clapped a lot and left, yelling to them that we’d be back. We had more important things to attend to, namely the DISCO.

The first night at Disco Selva is apparently always singles night, but we didn’t care. We had a couple singles with us, after all. Also, singles night only lasts half an hour. The place was pretty empty (as it’s wont to be early in the week, apparently); there were some old, definitely not-single people at tables upstairs, and an extremely creepy couple of dudes in a dark corner. We went downstairs, ordered drinks, and hung out to see if anyone would dance.

Our host was DJ Nick, and he was something. He spoke hardly any English, so putting in requests was nearly impossible. The video board was a giant display showing lions in the African savannah, with his name and logo on top. RAWR. The dancing only began once Pepe (the staff member who started the whole “gay or Italian?” inquiry on the previous cruise) came in and starting grooving to Billie Jean. There was also a lot of Fergie, and all in all, the Disco (which you must pronounce ‘deeeee-sco’) was not hoppin’ that night. We headed to bed at 1pm, realizing we’d been up for almost 24 hours.

Cruises are the only time I’m happy to see the sun rise.

key west

We had breakfast on the deck, and I got to have gruel for the first of, well, six other times. We hopped off the boat and piled into the Bone Island Shuttle (*snort*). I think we were the only people in a good mood; there were some severely crabby old ladies on there with us. How can you be mad about being in a warm place in January?

The shuttle dropped us off in Mallory Square, which is the ultratacky part of town where the main cruise dock is located. It was only 8am on a Sunday, so little was open. This was fine with us, because we intended to do all of our sightseeing first thing, and then explore the local scene. By which we meant the bars. Key West is well-known for that particular industry.

We headed off down Whitehead Street, which parallels Duval.

the mile zero marker on US route 1. matt’s making fun of parrotheads.

‘
the kapok tree

COCK

There are wild chickens all over Key West (as well as cats; feel free to make the same jokes we did), so you hear roosters crowing constantly. I love that.

bahama village: it definitely looks like the bahamas.

hemingway house (we didn’t want to pay admission!)

i want to live here.

wendy, blending

At the end of Whitehead Street, you come to the marker denoting the southernmost point in the continental United States. From there, it’s 90 miles to Cuba. I just needed to see it because I’ve been to the actual southermost point in the U.S., on the Big Island of Hawaii.

southermost is a big deal in key west, apparently.

We walked back down Duval Street, and businesses were starting to think about opening. We stopped into a convenience store for water, because it was kind of ridiculously hot already. I was regretting my decision to wear a long-sleeved shirt that day, having assumed it’d be the least-warm stop we’d make on the cruise. It was in the mid-80s, but sunny and humid.

We also stopped for iced coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts (an establishment we sadly cannot enjoy in Minneapolis; the nearest are in Chicago), and Matt and Wendy posed by their ‘family tree’. I’d explain, but it’s a long story. Also, Wendy has a hard time trying to look badass, and just starts laughing.

We walked all the way back down to Mallory Square, scouting the places we wanted to visit later. We passed Sunset Pier, where the bartender appeared to be setting up, and asked when they opened. She said they were serving food already, but that they weren’t allowed to pour liquor in Key West until noon on Sundays. We told her we’d be back.

We sat on the pier watching the pelicans and sailboats for a while, and I called my mom to tell her she shouldn’t panic over not hearing from me for another week, because we’d be out of the U.S.. We then went over to the Sponge Market to stock up on all the necessary souvenirs, including my obligatory Christmas ornament, in the shape of the southernmost point marker.

On the way back to the oceanfront, we wandered through a garden full of statues, and Wendy and Matt had to have Superbad moments. BOOP!

matt and hemingway

disney ship: we quickly learned that local businesses hate disney passengers. duh.

At five minutes to noon, we got ourselves a table at Sunset Pier. There were already several people waiting there for the bar to open.

We ordered brunch (by which I mean nachos), then drinks. Like every bar in that region, Sunset Pier claims it invented the Rum Runner. Their frozen beverages come with a test tube full of dark rum.

You know what’s awesome? Having a margarita at noon on a Sunday while overlooking the ocean.

After brunch, we headed back down Duval Street, where everything was officially open. We stopped into Fast Buck Freddie’s, where Matt got a pimptastic hat, then headed to the bar I never, ever wanted to set foot in: Margaritaville. But I had to, of course, because it was there, and it’s the original.

It wasn’t bad at all, except for the fact that it was full of families from the Disney ship having lunch while we were on our second cocktail of the afternoon. The bartender was fantastic. After that, it was time for lunch at Willie T’s!

you are here, this is paradise. so true.

The entirety of Willie T’s was outside, and they featured 39 flavors of mojitos. It was instantly my favorite place in the world. We ordered lunch, and hung out watching the Colts-Chargers game on the giant-screen TV. We also filled out our own dollar to post on the wall. We gave our founding father boobs.

When it was time to move on, they gave us to-go cups. I LOVE KEY WEST.

We walked down Duval toward our last destination, the most famous bar in Key West. I stood out front and finished my drink before we went inside, though I doubt they’d actually have cared.

I fell in love with our bartender instantly. She was the best. The house drink is the Sloppy Rita, which isn’t really distinguishable from a regular margarita. Also, I really like that the standard tequila in most places we went is Sauza. I hate Cuervo a lot.

With about half an hour left til the last shuttle to the boat, we headed out, again with to-go cups. We stopped at a little grocery to shop for amusing British foodstuffs like Lucozade, then circled Mallory Square again, looking at cocks. I mean, what?

The shuttle dropped us off about 15 minutes before the ship departed. We took showers and watched from our balcony as we left Key West. We’d have taken the usual post-island nap, but we had to do the muster drill first.

Promptly at 5pm, the alarms went off, and we all put on our life jackets and lined up at the muster station. Sadly, we were at a different station than Wendy, Cindi, and Jumi, so we were surrounded by antsy Germans. We stood there trying not to giggle about everything, listened to the safety announcement in 5 languages, and were finally freed from responsibility for the rest of vacation.

After everyone else had their meat locker time (i.e. when you go back to your cabin after returning from some bar at the port, and take a shower and nap til early evening), we met in Bar Casanova, intending to play bingo. It ended up costing $20/person, so we went to play cards instead. The cruise staff was dressed in clown outfits for some show that night, and one of them came up to talk to Matt about his Arsenal jersey. It turned out he was from London (and thereafter known as ‘Arsenal’, while we called his friend from Manchester ‘Man U’), and he told us about their most recent game. Another female clown came over and plastered herself against the window while he talked. When he left, Matt said, “I just got a score from a clown while another silver clown humped the window!”

We stayed there so late that even the buffet had shut down, except for the pizza station, so we had pizza and salads out on the back deck, after which we wandered around the upper decks of the ship, looking at the moon and stars and basically being really gay. Shut up.

We found what seemed to be the darkest part of the ship up front on deck 9, so we stayed there for a long time. A couple of ladies wandered by, drunk, and we ended up making friends with them, even though one of them told us all about her boobs and the other was from California. (We named them Droopy and Shingles.) We decided to all go to the bar together; the ladies were kind of annoying, but there seemed to be no shaking them at that point. My favorite moment was when I was pondering the drink menu and Shingles yelled, “Have you had an orgasm??” Well, yes! Thanks for asking.

They told us all about how they’d met the performers for next evening’s show (Anthony and William), and how they were the cutest ever, blah blah blah. Wendy and I discussed this quietly at the bar, and when I asked her again who the guys were, she told me it was Carmelo Anthony and A.I.. We then invented the Melotini, which made absolute sense right at that moment:

• 1 part Kahlua
• 1 part Creme de Menthe
• 1 part Grey Goose
• optional float of Hpnotiq

Try it. You’ll love it.

We went down to the main lobby bar, but it was annoyingly crowded with art sale displays and loud people. We returned to Casanova, then went to Isolabella, the pimp bar on the 1st deck. There were a few more people there this time, thankfully, and the server remembered us. Wendy and I decided that Carmelo Anthony was arriving for his performance on a mini-submarine, so we sat there waiting for him. She tried texting him on her Blueberry, but to no avail. Stupid Melo.

We left after a while and went back to Casanova, where the band was playing Italian songs for a large, drunk group of Romans. Old guys kept hopping up on stage to sing ‘Arrivederci, Roma’. It was awesome. And then, Casanova was closing! We’d never seen that happen before! I’m pretty sure that means we won, and it definitely meant it was time for bed.

Monday was our first full day at sea, on the way to Grand Cayman. We got up at 9:30, sat on the balcony watching the Disney ship racing us, then had breakfast. After that, it was time for Arts & Crafts class. Beautiful necklaces!

actually, i made an anklet.

After making ourselves some gorgeous jewelry, we went to go sit on deck in the sun and read. We had cocktails and chillaxed. Matt read his book upside down.

Around 2pm, we headed to the restaurant for Wendy’s favorite lunch ever: Mexican buffet!

Full of tacos and carrying drinks, we went to the disco for Italian lessons. They taught us the basics like ‘buon giorno’ and ‘buona sera, comandante!’ We also learned to count, which came in useful in the elevators, where every floor was announced in Italian. Our cabin was on ponte sei.

Completely exhausted from class (ha), we went to have meat locker time from 3-4:30. Then it was time for SuperQuiz!

We lost to the Germans, dammit.

We hung out in the card room playing canasta and hearts, and then it was time to go get ready for formal night, or as Wendy calls it, Fancypants Dinner. We found this guy in our room, wearing Matt’s sunglasses:

We headed to dinner, where there was another bottle of champagne awaiting us. I don’t remember what we ate at all, but I know it was fantastic; Wendy and I thought the food in the dining room was good but not spectacular last time, but it had definitely improved. Their risotto was incredible.

We decided to keep our fancy pants on (or dress, in my case) for a bit and go to the bar. We met Pete, and Cindi tried to get him to teach us to swear in Italian, since obviously we already knew how to say everything else. He pointed out the captain, sitting right behind us, and told us to come back later and he would. Pete ruled. He also told us that the ship did indeed have a brig, but generally only staff ended up there. I want to know more.

We went to our cabins to change back to normal clothes, then went to the Dionisio Lounge on deck 3. We were telling the bartender about how we learned Italian earlier, and Wendy started counting out loud. Instead of ‘nove’, she yelled ‘NINER!’ He started giggling hysterically, and thereafter became known as Niner. He told us, “you guys must be a lot of fun at the bar!”

Cindi decided she needed to drink Disaronno on the rocks (thereby earning her a new nickname as well), and became very chatty with a German couple at the bar. We overheard her saying, “Cindi is a pretty American name!” She was on a roll, and I have a napkin scribbled full of her quotes.

We went back to the cabin around 12:30, entertained ourselves in various ways, and then passed out. We had a date with stingrays in the morning!

Tuesday, another sunrise! This time in the Cayman Islands.

We had breakfast on deck, watching the ship pull into port. We got down to the Osiris Theatre right away, and ended up with tickets on the first tender boat. Cindi wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to go to Stingray Sandbar, so she decided to stay on ship and meet us later.

We arrived in George Town, Grand Cayman, around 8:30am. The stores were just opening, so we shopped for souvenirs and postcards. We got coffee next door and sat outside, writing to the suckers back home.

On the way to the post office, we found a bank that dispensed cash in American and Caymanian dollars. I got out $20CI (about $30US) and we went to buy stamps. We split up the remaining cash for souvenirs. We then stopped into another store to look at the duty free liquor, and I nearly died when I saw Big Black Dick Rum. Of course I needed some of that, but they were unable to sell it to us because of duty-free laws: it has to be delivered to the ship directly, and the ship needs to contract with the store. They only had it duty-free, too, so I couldn’t just carry it onto the boat just like I always did with my contraband liquor. SIGH.

big black dick

We wandered around the duty-free mall with the rest of the cruise passengers, noted the location of Señor Frogs for later, then went over to the Tortuga Rum store. They had regular and duty-free booze, so I figured I’d just buy the regular stuff. That is, until we looked at the prices for duty-free. It was all ridiculously cheap, and they had stuff I hadn’t seen in the US.

Duty-free shopping: I have finally seen the light. We made a note of what we needed and headed back to the dock to catch our shuttle to the stingrays.

We met up with the excursion and walked to the shuttle buses. It drove us up and across the island to the North Sound, where we boarded a boat after much confusion amongst the shuttle drivers. We climbed up on top at the front, and we headed out toward Stingray Sandbar. The waves were splashing us way up there and our stuff was soaked, but we didn’t care. It was warm out, and there were stingrays waiting to see us!

heading into the north sound

i love the color of the water.

stingray sandbar

As we dropped anchor, we could see stingrays swimming all over the place. There were 4 or 5 other boats there already, and a bunch of people swimming. In places, the water was only knee-deep. We got some barely-audible instructions about not scaring stingrays lest they kill you, and then we climbed down the steps into the water. It was officially the best day of all time.

they know there’s squid in that bag.

stingray rubbing on wendy’s butt

The photographer told us that kissing a stingray was good luck, so they’d hold one up for us while she took our picture kissing it. I couldn’t have cared less whether that was true or not, I just wanted to kiss a stingray! When I told the guy that, he said, “OK! I’m a stingray!”

old couple kissing a stingray

They had a bag of squid to feed them, so the stingrays were freaking out about the food. They kept rubbing up against us with their wings. I’d be trying to touch one of them, and another would rub up against my butt. Consequently, there was a LOT of screaming and hysterical laughter going on at Stingray Sandbar. It was fantastic. (Here’s a video!)

So was the water. There were huge waves crashing over the sandbar, so it was nearly impossible to stand up. We swam out a little ways and bobbed around, jumping over waves so they wouldn’t knock us down. It took me far too long to learn that I needed to maybe not stand with my back to them, because I kept falling over.

Wendy showed me how to hold a squid (by the EYES), and tuck my thumb in so a stingray wouldn’t suck my hand into his mouth. I wasn’t freaked out by feeding them, but I was not pleased about holding a squid.

wendy holding a stingray

They had snorkel gear on the boat, but it seemed kind of unnecessary. Next time, I’d like to snorkel just so I know what I’m taking pictures of underwater.

Our visit with the stingrays was over way too soon. Sigh.

We were mostly dry by the time we got back to the shuttle buses, so we decided it was unnecessary to go back to the ship to change. We hoped Cindi was there waiting at the appointed spot. Matt and I ended up on a different bus than Wendy and Jumi, and it was clearly the good one: the driver sang to us the whole way back. He got applause after every song, and by the time we arrived in George Town, we were all singing Day-O together. It was awesome.

We went back to the Tortuga store to get rum cakes for the people back home, and place our duty-free order. Matt and I got 18-year Tortuga Rum in a barrel, Flor de Caña Centenario 12-Year, and cachaca so we could make caipirinhas at home. My entire order, including rum cakes and other souvenirs, was $90. SCORE.

While we were checking out, a girl came running in to see if it was too late to place an order. Her ship was leaving at 2:30, which was past the cutoff for their delivery. She proceeded to have a tantrum in the store, to the embarrassment of her friends. Seriously.

Jumi decided to go back to the ship to find Cindi, and Matt and Wendy and I headed off to find the British grocery store. It was nowhere to be found, so we stopped at a convenience store to hunt for things like Lucozade and Go Ahead (the snack from the Bahamas that I’ll be seeking everywhere I go for the rest of my life). Then we headed to Señor Frogs for lunch, and to get started on Cindi’s primary goal of the cruise: to drink a first down. Since she was sick and 10 yards would definitely kill a person anyway, we decided to help.

Our server’s name was Jesus. We ordered yards and food, then decided we needed to do a shot, too (it’s tradition, started way back in Puerto Rico!). We asked him what he preferred. He said, “I like blowjobs!”

wendy looking for cindi and jumi from señor frogs’ balcony

We ate lunch, and Cindi and Jumi finally showed up. They had given us beads before, but when Jesus brought them for the other two, we pretended like we never got any. He brought us all one of each color. We were very proud of our beautiful necklaces.

We had 9 yards in Grand Cayman, which meant we were at 2nd and 1 in Cozumel. Not a problem. When we asked for the tab, Jesus also brought us a round of free shots. They were blue, which scared me. But we all survived, far better than we did the tab, which was in Caymanian dollars, with the US total at the end. Challenge: drink 2 shots and 2 yards and then figure out who owes what. It wasn’t pretty.

We had to hurry back to the dock to catch the tender, and were only sure we made it once we saw the line. We wanted to be on the last one, but had to settle for second-to-last. There was a sign at the gate telling us that we were not allowed to bring weapons on the ship, and it was very explicit. Some of the weapons included sharpened sticks, coshes, and knuckle dusters. This held no end of fascination for us.

On the tender boat, we may have been a little raucous; the dudes in front of us were really amused until Wendy accidentally shouted “CLAPPY PENIS!” It was her special code name for caipirinhas, apparently. As we got back on the ship, we passed a wall lined with Tortuga Rum boxes. Hell yes.

We returned to our cabin to shower off the stingrays and have the best meat locker time ever. We awoke again at 7, and I called the other cabin to see if they were awake. Cindi answered, then hung up on me. Wendy called back shortly afterward. We got dressed and went down to their cabin to partake in Fuzzy Tang (Peachtree and Tang); I had my own version with rum and sugar-free tang in an empty Lucozade bottle.

We got food from the buffet, ate on deck, then went downstairs to the card room to play Oh Hell and Slappy (otherwise known as Egyptian Whiskey Rat Fuck).

Once the show started in Casanova, we went over there to watch. It was Italian night, so the competition was for Mr. Pizza. They had to do things like throw dough around, ‘dance sexy’, and sing ‘O Sole Mio’. The winner was a hysterical old guy from Long Island. Every time we saw him after that, he was wearing his Mr. Pizza sash.

After Mr Pizza, we headed to the club. There was much better hiphop playing (instead of crappy Eurodisco), and slightly more dancing. One of our favorite servers, Jones (his real name was Irwin, I think), was working there. Whenever he brought us receipts to sign, he was using a light-up pen, and this was immensely fascinating. There was a lot of dancing, and I really really did NOT want to leave. But it was 2am, and we had a date with a beach in Honduras the next morning.

Wednesday morning, we got to sleep in. We had gained an hour overnight, and our excursion didn’t leave til 11. I was too excited about being in Honduras, though (my first visit to Central America!), so I got up at 8, showered, put on my bathing suit and sarong, and sat out on the balcony, staring at the mountains off in the distance. We were going to Roatan, an island off the coast of Honduras, but you could see the mainland from the ship.

Roatan didn’t have its own tender service, so we got to ride in the lifeboats. The whole way there, Wendy and Matt and I giggled about hopping on the Royal Caribbean ship and stealing rolls for the Costa staff to eat. It’s a long story that’s probably only funny to us. Pulling up to the dock, we went right under the bow of the other ship.

The port area in Coxen Hole consists of a giant tent full of vendors, a bar, and a parking lot full of shuttle buses. We were really hoping to get on the Jesus shuttle, but we ended up on a school bus instead. We all got wristbands for Tabyana Beach, and we were off.

We drove along the coast down toward the West End. The homes outside the little port area were as expected: ramshackle buildings on stilts, with laundry hanging all over the place. It wasn’t actually as depressed as I’d have expected, but the whole island is really resort-oriented.

We headed uphill through the interior of the island, and the bus ride all of a sudden became a roller coaster. The bus would come up on a tight curve slowly, the driver would try to peer around the corner, then he’d sound his horn (which was modified to be a LOT louder), and go tearing off. We went up and down really steep hills at alarming speed; I think the bus just needed the momentum to even keep going. It was awesome.

At the top of a big hill, the driver stopped to let cars pass. The view was amazing, and reminded me of Maui.

We passed through the shops and restaurants in the West End, and arrived at Tabyana Beach around noon. I was so excited, I wanted to climb out the window rather than wait for everyone to get off the bus.

We had to stand around and wait for an attendant to get beach chairs for us, but that was fine because there was a bar right there on the beach. I’m considering that as a career option, actually.

Once our chairs arrived, I took time only to throw my bag and towel on one of them, and take off my shirt and shorts. I couldn’t get the in ocean fast enough.

Wendy and I agree that the day we spent on the beach in the Dominican Republic was one of our favorite days ever, so we couldn’t wait to repeat it. This time, though, there weren’t even tiny jellyfish in the water. It was absolutely perfect, and we were even allowed to bring our drinks into the ocean.

We spent a lot of time just bobbing around talking. We practiced wrestling moves, and I killed Cindi like an alligator. I attached myself to Matt in ways that would otherwise have been inappropriate in public. We took off our bathing suits and held them overhead just like I did in the DR. When we ran out of beverages, Cindi yelled, “WALTER!!!” and our server waded out into the water to take our orders. I could maybe live in Roatan.

After a while, we decided to take a break from chilling in the ocean, and go visit the souvenir shop. I’m pretty sure everything in the entire place cost $2, except for the coffee Matt got, which was $6.

The reef is only about 50 feet from the beach there, so we’d thought about renting snorkels. They were $10 each, whereas a kayak was $15. I was nervous about it, because I figured we’d flip over or something. Matt promised we wouldn’t, so we rented a 2-person kayak and set off to see the reef.

Holy crap, it was amazing. I loved it far more than canoeing, and it felt even more steady. In places, we were only a few inches above the reef. I stuck my camera underwater and took pictures.

We returned the kayak with about an hour left at Tabyana Beach. We ran back into the ocean, and it was there that Wendy and Matt and I invented SEAPOUND. It’s not as dirty as it sounds.

wendy doesn’t want to leave

accomplishment!

We got out of the water with enough time to catch one of the last buses. SIGH.

sometimes after a few cocktails, drinking 2 beers at the same time seems like an awesome idea.

wife guard!

have i mentioned that i’m madly in love with this boy? because i am.

We took the rollercoaster bus back to the port, and had a small amount of time to check out the shops in Coxen Hole. We headed into a big building full of little market stalls, and picked up a few more souvenirs. I’d have liked more time to see the town, but that’s good reason to return!

We tendered back to the ship and had some quality meat-locker time til about 7pm, then went to the card room to play Oh Hell. Jones came by and showed us a card trick; it was pretty much the cutest thing ever. We then headed to dinner in the restaurant, and they’d outdone themselves.

I had a fruit salad, a fruit soup that tasted like pina colada, a salad with balsamic vinegar, and a risotto cake with sweet potatoes, cranberries, almonds, and dandelion greens. Everything was amazing. In the middle of dinner, the staff started marching around, and a group of waiters went up to the balcony for SEXY DANCING. So funny.

After dinner, we went to find Pete. He was just waiting to teach us dirty words in Italian.

pete’s italian lessons

Our favorite was vafanculo, the Italian equivalent of ‘fuck off’. When Cindi asked him how to say ‘blowjob’, he told us he’d need to go consult the magazine in his cabin. While we were sitting there, Jones came by to tell us the disco was open, in case we didn’t know!

We didn’t want to go to the disco that early, so we went upstairs to see Niner. There was a guy on the violin accompanying a pianist, and a few people sitting there watching. After a while, we realized everyone was gone, and the two musicians were practicing together. We wanted to take credit for clearing the place out. Also, Jumi got lei’d!

We headed down to the disco, where people were actually dancing for once. We met Rob, Chris, and Barbara (known as Jersey and his crew). Jersey requested the Cha Cha Slide (you probably know this as the ‘everybody clap your hands!’ song), and knew the whole dance routine. By the end of the cruise, we’d seen him do it multiple times, and now the image of a ponytail boy from New Jersey dancing a stiff cha-cha is conjured every time I’m at a basketball game.

Wendy was doing her best to make sure we drank every single beverage on the drink menu, so she stole a sip of Chris’ Budweiser. I was dancing barefoot, and Disco Selva had officially become the Gay 90s. We even had lemon drops. When Soulja Boy came on, we all went out and danced, following the Helper Monkey’s lead. Arsenal and Man U were upstairs watching, but refused to come downstairs and dance.

We left around 2:30, knowing it was going to hurt the next morning.

Thursday morning arrived far too early. I got up early, showered, and then went right back to bed. We finally got up about 9:30, and told Wendy, Cindi and Jumi that we’d meet them for the excursion at 11. We had breakfast overlooking Cozumel, and noted with some excitement that we were docked right at Señor Frogs.

We got off the boat, and followed the path into town. It requires navigating a mall built expressly for cruise ship patrons, presumably for those too scared to actually enter MEXICO. Haha. We decided to walk down to the giant Mexican flag, and scope out some of the shops.

this never ceased to amuse me.

We stopped into Cozumel Mart (yes, it’s really called that) and I bought the largest bottle of Evian I could find. Between the hangover and the humidity, I was considering laying down on the side of the road and dying. I drank all my water as we headed back to the dock to meet our excursion shuttle, and I soon determined that the heat was a huge plus, re: sweating off the ickiness. I felt totally fine by the time we headed to the bus.

Another girl on our excursion was not so lucky: she had to have them pull the bus over so she could get out and throw up on the side of the road. We’d seen her at the disco the night before. She looked to be in really rough shape.

Our tour leader was James, and he was awesome. He quizzed us about our knowledge of Spanish (“Do you know tequila? Margarita? Dos Equis? Burrito?”) and introduced the driver as Speedy Gonzales. He told us it was a half-hour drive to San Gervasio, but that Speedy would make it in 20 minutes. He was correct!

San Gervasio is a national park containing Mayan ruins, though the site we were visiting was private lands adjoining the area. I was excited to see the ruins, but let’s not pretend: we were really there to ride ATVs. The history was just a bonus.

We sat and watched a safety video, learned how to shift gears on our ATVs, and then they handed out bandanas to wear under our awesome helmets. I also saw a dude carrying a tiny monkey curled in his hand. SO CUTE.

I’d read up on the ATV tour, and people recommended bringing a second bandana to wear over your face, because the trails are really dusty. However, it had just rained, so that wasn’t a problem. We got mud instead!

We drove down the main paths, and got up some decent speed on our ATVs. I loved it a lot. Then we turned off into side-paths, which were all huge rocks and pits full of water. At times, it seemed like we were riding through rivers. Our legs and feet were drenched in muddy water. It was awesome, even though occasionally I felt like my ATV was going to tip over. Matt said I’d be more likely to slide off the seat, so I started worrying about that instead.

We arrived at a temple that was used as an observatory. One of the guides explained the Mayan calendar, which ends in 2012, and covered a bunch of popular end-of-the-world mythology. He also explained that the Mayans were very short, smart, and cute, just like him.

at the observatory

drawing the mayan calendar

dirty feet

my ATV

at the gravesites

The next site we visited was a series of tombs. They said that the main tomb (and the only one that had been excavated) contained a Mayan king wearing a jade mask, which was now in the national museum in Mexico City. The other gravesites were the members of his family, who were all killed when he died, in accordance with Mayan tradition.

tombs

We finished our ride around 2pm, and I was impressed we actually got to spend so much time riding the ATVs. Half of us had blisters on our hands from holding on, and we were all covered in mud. My Adidas were full of water, and made a squishing sound when I walked. Thankfully, I’d brought flipflops in my bag, so I took off my sneakers and carried them instead. They were gross. If you take this excursion and it’s rained recently, don’t wear shoes you want to keep!

happy goats

our atv photos (jumi bought them)

The shuttle took us back into Cozumel, stopping again to let the girl puke on the street. We walked back down to Cozumel Mart to buy tacky souvenirs, because it seemed to have all those bases covered. We even picked up a bottle of absinthe for $11, and a big mesh bag to carry my muddy shoes in. We were an interesting sight, all covered in dirt and wearing matching bandanas.

Once shopping was accomplished, it was time for the important stuff: Señor Frogs. We were still two yards shy of a first down.

The place was in good form despite being mostly empty. There were two women from our ship being pretend-gangbanged by the servers. Everyone was wearing balloon hats. Also, in the women’s room, there’s a drawing of a dude with a flap over his parts; when you lift the flap, an alarm goes off in the bar. I had to do that more than once because it reminded me of the Safe House.

the view from señor frogs!

DIRTY LEGS

my atv blister!

We had yards and food (only half of which we could eat), and Cindi learned dirty words from the server boys (such as ‘chupa mi pito!’). We had a Minneapolis moment when Prince’s When Doves Cry came on (and I was surprised to realize I know all the words). Once we finished eating, Matt and I made a beeline for the swinging bar stools. Could there possibly be a better idea than that?

We hung out on the swings once the tab was settled and Cindi and Jumi headed off to go shopping and return to the ship. Cindi returned a little while later, handed the bartender (Humberto) a 500-peso bill, and asked, “what kind of shot can I get with this?” He brought her Cuervo. GAG.

Matt and Wendy and I had better-quality tequila, talked to the bartender about Mexican futbol (the local teams are the Orioles de Cozumel and the Hurricanes de Cancun) , and spent far too much time messing with Wendy’s balloon hat. That’s because it was a giant green penis complete with balls and, uh, a white string hanging off the end.

We waited til the last possible moment, then headed for the ship. We could see it from where we were sitting, and were pretty much experts at arriving there late anyway. We learned that in the Bahamas. And St Thomas. And maybe Puerto Rico; I don’t exactly remember that.

sunset in cozumel

wendy’s italian friend with the awesome hair (in the balloon hat)

this picture sums up the cruise:
wendy holding a yard and penis balloon, yelling “I LOVE AMERICA!!!” in front of the coast guard ship.

my bag full of yard glasses, filthy shoes, and awesome souvenirs

Re-boarding the ship, they didn’t even bother putting my bag through the scanner, because the yard glasses would’ve spilled all over the place. To those of you who are warned repeatedly about sneaking liquor and other contraband onto cruise ships: I’ve heard they’ll confiscate it on other boats, but Costa couldn’t care less. I guess that means you should probably just take Costa cruises from now on. You’ll love it, I promise.

I washed my shoes out in the shower, and couldn’t believe how dirty they were. I stuck the showerhead inside them and let it run for a long time, but the water never came out clear. We put our shoes out on the balcony, hoping they’d dry in the sun. Matt also took a picture of me standing naked on the balcony, but that will thankfully not be posted on this here internet. Nobody saw me but him and the pilot boat! I hope.

matt’s shoes

Cindi called me with a quote from Wendy: “Write this in your little notebook! I’m dirty and drunk and I have a big green dick!” Wendy then apparently got in the shower, singing to herself and laughing the whole time. We showered and sat outside in towels, watching the sun set. Once it was dark, we had a very important life goal to achieve: gettin’ it on on the balcony of a cruise ship, overlooking the ocean. Rating: A+++ WOULD DO AGAIN.

We had meat locker time til 8:30, then got up to eat. Everything was closed but the pizza station, where we learned a little-known fact: instead of picking up whatever they have at the buffet, you can order your own pizza. They were way better than the buffet stuff, too. We had dessert out on the back deck, which is where we found Jumi. She said that Cindi and Wendy were still sleeping. We went down to the card room to play Phase 10.

The show in Casanova started at 11, and it was called “Rock ‘n Roll Couple.” It was in the style of all the previous shows, with dancing and goofy games. My favorite part was when they had the balloon game we’d seen last time as part of Sexy Games. I was sad that Wendy missed it, but she and Cindi seemed really, really dedicated to sleeping. And we couldn’t really argue with that, since we were all worn out. Though it was Sexy Night at the disco, we decided to pass and head to bed. Because of the time change, it was already 2am anyway.

Friday we got up early, even though we didn’t really have to, because it was a day at sea. We watched the documentary about how the ship runs, then sat out on the balcony reading and watching the ocean. It was kind of hard to wrap our heads around the fact that the cruise was almost over.

our cabin!

We had breakfast, then went up to see the ship 3-Day in progress. We’d intended to participate (they were walking a mile around the track), but most of us had lost our shoes in the Great Mexican Jungle Adventure of Aught-Eight.

We decided to go swimming. I’d never been in the pool on the ship! I didn’t realize it’d be salt water. Also, the thing about putting a bunch of us in a swimming pool together is that we turn into 10-year-olds. It’s kind of spectacular.

We got out of the pool after a while, and sat on the deck nearby playing hearts. I actually won for once!

We went to the cabin to change, and found our togas there waiting for us. When we left the cabin, we found Wendy there waiting to scare us. It worked.

We decided to go take a tour of the parts of the ship the rest of the group hadn’t seen before, and also go to the gift shop, since we hadn’t gotten there yet. They didn’t seem to mind that we were carrying drinks. Also, I got INFLATABLE SHIPS FOR $4. Plus my frequent-cruiser discount!

We visited the Roero Bar (otherwise known as ‘the bar where we took naps on the last cruise’), the chapel, and the arcade. Through the arcade windows, we discovered a secret deck for the crew! With a hot tub!

the arcade

crew deck!

“uh, where’d you last see it?”

armonia pool

dear cindi: who toasts with coffee??

At 3:30, Matt and I went to merengue lessons. The teacher was fantastic. He taught us a bunch of moves, one which he just called ‘sexy, sexy, sexy, sexy’. You circle your finger around your head as you turn around in a sexy, sexy, sexy, sexy way.

dance lessons on deck

We went down to the cabin to drop all our stuff off, then headed back up to find everyone else. They were nowhere to be found, but we did manage to wander into teatime. They had tiny sandwiches and everything. We hung out watching the next dance lesson (we’d have participated, but we arrived late), then went to hang out at the pool bar.

the special of the day

We went down to their cabin to see if they’d come back, and found the cabin steward, Towel, in there instead. I think we scared him. We finally located Jumi out on the back deck, then Wendy and Cindi up on deck 10. We went to go play shuffleboard, but were interrupted when we found soccer balls by the basketball court. We played 2-on-2 futbol, to the amusement of the staff, until I tripped and skinned my knee. We then switched to shuffleboard, a sport which requires no running or falling down.

After sunset (sigh), we went to our cabins to change clothes and pack. You have to have your suitcases in the hallway by 1am the night before docking in Fort Lauderdale, which means you have to put any clothes and toiletries you need in your carry-on bag and haul it around with you in the morning.

I’d brought a spare duffel bag, and was glad I had it. All my dirty laundry went in that, and the well-packed souvenirs took up much of my suitcase. Once we’d finished packing, we put on our togas. I love toga night!

best dress code ever.

Wendy, Cindi, and Jumi came to our cabin before we headed to dinner. Wendy still had her giant green penis. We left it behind for Rocque.

jumi is duly horrified.

We did the toga chant going downstairs, a la Animal House. Also, we still had a spare bottle of champagne, so we brought it up to dinner with us. Wendy was embarrassed about carrying it, so she hid it in a drink menu. Not the drink menu she eventually stole, unfortunately.

We were a little early to dinner, so we sat there hassling people who weren’t wearing togas. Some people had even brought their own togas and toga-related accessories from home. It was awesome. At least half the people at dinner were dressed up. The rest of them just didn’t get it.

We also had a very long talk with Mr. Pizza and his wife, Maxine.

Mark Boney exchanged our warm champagne for a cold bottle, and poured it for us. Dinner that night was spectacular. (Below is a picture of the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Seriously.) I also had soup that tasted like Creamsicle, bread with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and spinach flan. I have no idea how people manage to eat all 6 courses at dinner!

bleu cheese mousse with pickled onions and raisins

After dinner, we went to the Osiris Theatre for the passenger talent show. We’d seen it last time and there were really funny moments, but overall it was way too long. We were excited to find out that there were only 5 performances, and all of them were pretty good. There was a trio of sisters singing a Miami Sound Machine song, an Quebecois guy singing ‘You are my Sunshine’ in French and English, a lady singing a Flemish song, and Ukelele hero.

A guy named Klaus got on stage and told us how he’d been on back-to-back cruises. Last time, he’d dedicated his performance to his fiancee. This time, he was dedicating it to the awesome crew. It made me sniffly. Sadly, though, nobody got sent to the lions.

We changed out of our togas, put our bags in the hallway, then went to make the rounds of all of our favorite staffpeople. Pete was nowhere to be found in his bar, so we asked another server named Arsenio. He told us Pete had jumped overboard. Then Pete appeared and told us that he was a fast swimmer. Arsenio took our picture together, and then a photo of the old Italian guys at the next table imitating our rock hands. It was hysterical.

Sadly, we couldn’t find Niner anywhere, so we headed to the disco for Bye-Bye Disco Time. SAD!

We danced to Biggie and Tupac, and of course Jersey was there requesting the Cha-Cha Slide and Soulja Boy. The place was pretty much empty by then, but that didn’t stop us from Crankin’ Dat. I can only do half of it, but I’m fine with that.

We talked to Jones for a long time, and Wendy, Cindi, and Jumi took off at various times to go sleep. We discovered that the bartenders were unable to light shots on fire, and that made me love Rodrigo and Casanova even more, for allowing Wendy to almost burn up the ship. I want to believe they have that rule now because of her.

Jones hugged us goodbye, and we went to our cabin around 1:30. Then it was time for a fashion show, but that part is none of your business.

Saturday morning, the alarm went off at 6:30am. That hurt a lot. We got up, showered, and packed our carry-on bags. I attempted to dry my still-wet sneakers with the blowdryer, with little success. I shoved them in the bottom of my bag with a pair of socks, because the only other footwear I had was flipflops. It was -10 degrees in Minneapolis.

We had our last breakfast (gruel and a croissant with cheese, my favorite) on the back deck. The ship was already docked in Fort Lauderdale. General disembarkation wasn’t til 8:45, so we went down to sit in the Napping Bar. We were all sprawled on chairs, trying not to doze off.

From the ship, we went to passport control. There was a long line, but the officer was just looking at photos and letting people through. We picked up our suitcases, reorganized, and then stood in line for customs. Even though I knew they never checked anything at the cruise ports, I was still nervous. I was over the limit for alcohol, didn’t have my duty-free receipt accessible, and had absinthe, which was only recently made legal in the US. The customs lady took my slip and said ‘thank you’. I was almost disappointed at not having done something really illegal.

We stood at the cab stand forever, because there was much cab-related drama. We finally got two cabs to the airport. I paged through the little advertising magazine, and found the address for Coyote Ugly downtown, plus coupons for free shots. SCORE.

We were expecting airport horror like we’d experienced last time, but it didn’t seem too bad. Cindi and Jumi had an earlier flight, so they went to check in. Matt and Wendy and I were in search of a place to store our bags; we were finally directed to the baggage service downstairs, where they’ll store it for $5 a bag. We then headed to the cab stand, because our flight wasn’t til 4:30.

On the way to the cabs, we had a thought: a cab cost about $50 round-trip to downtown. Couldn’t we rent a car for less than that? We decided to go to the rental car building to find out. Thrifty told us it’d be $50 plus tax; E-Z said it’d be $30. We were set.

We picked up Disposo, our Nissan Versa (we decided what we really needed was a disposable car that we could just set on fire when we were done with it), and were soon on our way to Fort Lauderdale. Disposo was SEXY. Also, while checking him for damage at the rental pickup, we noticed scratches on the hood. Clearly, someone had already slid across it in a getaway attempt. The rental guy didn’t think this was half as funny as I did.

We found Coyote Ugly pretty quickly, but then realized it didn’t open til noon. We set off in search of food. There were a ton of restaurants in the area, but none of them were open. Some didn’t even start serving til 5pm. We were getting desperate! Finally, we happened upon the Las Olas Riverfront, and there was a sign for the Metro Cafe, advertising brunch. We rushed there and got a table. They weren’t actually serving brunch, but we didn’t care.

I think I drank an entire gallon of Diet Coke. Costa doesn’t really have pop, except as a mixer. Also, we had pizzas, even though we’d just gotten off an Italian ship.

After lunch, we walked along the riverfront to see the water taxis and all the people waiting in line for boring cruises. Then we headed back toward Coyote Ugly, because it had just opened. There was only one other dude in there, already sitting at the bar.

I tried to order a mojito, not really knowing the deal with Coyote Ugly. The bartender said, “No, that’s gay.” Wendy ordered a vodka sour, and he wouldn’t give that to her, either. Apparently a vodka-cranberry is less gay, because he allowed her to have that. I got a Jack and diet. He gave us and the female bartender shit constantly. We loved him a lot.

We redeemed our taxi-cab shot coupons (we had no choice, he just poured us Sammy Hagar’s tequila), and he gave me one even though I told him I had to drive us back to the airport. When Wendy and Matt ordered another round, it became apparent that their drink pricing was totally random. We talked to the girl bartender for a long time, then asked her if they had souvenirs. She unlocked the other side of the bar, and we came away with a lot of stuff, including an awesome sticker for Cindi (whose idea it originally was to go there), and underpants that read MONEY MAKER on the ass. I was a fan.

We left there somewhat sadly, and hopped in Disposo to take the long route back to the airport, via the A1A. Have I mentioned that Wendy loves Vanilla Ice? She had to see it. And, surprisingly, it made me actually want to spend time in Fort Lauderdale. The beaches were nothing like in the Caribbean, but they were still pretty awesome.

We arrived back at E-Z Rental Car, blasting Big Pimpin’ by Jay-Z. We did not light Disposo on fire, but we should have. We picked up our bags, checked in (there was NO line at check-in; last time we were there, we stood there for 3 hours), rushed through security, and found Cindi and Jumi still sitting at the gate, looking very frustrated. We’d had lunch, seen the beach, and hung out at a bar, while they’d been sitting at the airport all morning, waiting for a tiny plane.

We sat on the floor playing Phase 10 and laughing uncontrollably, much to the consternation of the women sitting nearby. To deal with the issue of the -10 degree temperatures in Minneapolis, and the fact that I had flipflops and Wendy was wearing shorts, we brainstormed solutions.

WILL SMILE FOR PANTS

Besides pants-panhandling, we devised the pants exchange program. Say you’re flying to Florida from Minnesota in January, just as we did. The second you get to Florida, all you want to do is remove your pants and change to shorts. (I solved this problem by carrying flipflops and wearing convertible capris, but not everyone is so innovative.) On the other hand, if you’re returning to Minnesota from Florida, you hardly want to wear pants to the airport when it’s still 85 degrees, and yet you’re going to freeze your ass off when you land.

Solution: the PANTS EXCHANGE BOOTH. Leave your pants when you get there, and someone else can wear them home. This, we believe, is a fantastic business opportunity.

We’d found out at check-in that our flight was overbooked, and they were asking people to volunteer to be bumped to the next day. Had we found this out as soon as we’d gotten there that morning, we’d probably have taken the offer. As it was, we’d already rented and returned a car, and we were tired and wanted to go home. But we’d still probably have done it for a price, so we drafted a list of demands in case they should ask us again:

I think the best part of that list is that they’re all inside jokes we’d come up with over the past week (some of them that morning), and that nobody else in the world would understand. I’d write out the explanations so I’d remember, but you’d just think we were nuts.

They boarded the flight early, and we all passed out shortly after takeoff. This was remarkable, because I never sleep on planes. I kept waking up because of the turbulence and the fact that the captain wouldn’t shut up. We must’ve slept for at least an hour, though, because we got to Memphis really quickly. I started to notice, too, that every time I opened my bag, it smelled really bad. As in, jungle shoes bad.

We had about an hour and a half layover in Memphis, and our priorities were 1) pants and shoes, and 2) dinner. Wendy and I checked all the stores, and nobody had either of the former, though we did find pajama bottoms with flowers that she refused to buy. We checked all the restaurants, and I’d forgotten that the south doesn’t really know the word ‘vegetarian’. We finally settled on the fast food counter, and I had pizza. Again. I didn’t care. Also, my bag had begun smelling so bad from the shoes that I had to have people stand back when I opened it, and I’d hold my breath. There was no way I was going to be able to put those shoes on for the flight.

I called my mom from the gate, and told her of our shoes-and-pants predicament. When we landed in Minneapolis, she met us at the baggage claim with slip-on shoes for me, and pajama bottoms and a comforter for Wendy. Claudia rules.

And it was indeed -10 in Minneapolis that night. Ouch.