Matt’s parents had come into town the night before, and we went over suitcase packing with them yet again, since this was to be their first flight in something like 15 years. The main concern was making sure that my mother-in-law didn’t try to take her huge toiletry bag through security with her, so we had to review the 3-1-1 rules multiple times.

We got up bright and early at 6am to get our ride to the airport in style; we had an Escalade from Uber, and an awesome driver named Patrick. There was a long security line which we opted to wait in so that we could escort the in-laws through security, rather than taking advantage of our PreCheck access. That was a little painful, but the trip through was entirely uneventful. We had some time to kill before the flight, so we got coffee, pastries, and a breakfast cocktail at Surdyk’s before heading to the gate.

The flight boarded early, so we were able to get on right away when we arrived there. Matt and I had a two-seat row to ourselves, and the flight was uneventful. We ate sandwiches from Surdyk’s and enjoyed the view of the coast. As we approached Fort Lauderdale, we flew right over a rainbow!

 
We circled over the Everglades before heading into the airport from the west. I really love this view, with the houses pushing right up against the alligator zone.

We landed around 1:15, then went to get our bags and board the rental shuttle. I was renting with Hertz for the first time, because I’d gotten a deal through American Express for 5,000 Hertz points for $250. We only needed 2,500 for the week-long rental, so that means I have another free week still waiting for me. That was a hell of a bargain!

I found my name on the board at the rental place, and we rolled our bags out to the car. It was a gigantic Buick Verano, so we were rockin’ it just like old people. I hate driving cars that large, but it was definitely comfortable for the four of us.

We left the airport and drove straight to Miami Beach to get lunch. Huahua’s Tacos did not disappoint, and we were able to sit out in the sun. It was a nice change, having left Minneapolis in the early fall. I especially enjoyed the world’s greatest guaco, which had both guacamole AND a slice of breaded, deep-fried avocado. So delicious.

There we had our first of many toasts to Southern Florida, too:

 
After lunch, we drove over nearer South Beach and circled for a while looking for parking. We finally found a ramp that didn’t cost a million dollars, and that was only a few blocks from the beach. Harlan and Judy have never been to Miami, so we wanted them to see the monstrous beach where we both misplaced our underpants on our honeymoon. (We left that part out of the story.)

After that, it was critically important that they visit the other best thing in South Beach: Mac’s Club Deuce. There were a few people sitting in there when we walked in, and they’d all clerly been there a while. My favorite was a completely tattoo-covered guy with an eyepatch, who managed to take a nap at the bar with a drink and a shot sitting in front of him. (We later walked past the tattoo shop that he probably owned around the corner.)

 We ordered drinks from the awesome bartender, who gave us each a poker chip, good for our next drink free. Daytime 2-for-1s? Sold. (They’re not weak, either.) We sat there enjoying the divey ambiance, and Matt got into a conversation with one of the old guys holding up the bar, based on their mutual love for Hunter S Thompson. The guy instantly became his BFF, and came over to tell him stories about his old days in journalism. It was hilarious.

After we finished our second round, it was time to head out lest we just decide to move in there. Matt bought a t-shirt, and they gave him a bunch of stickers as well. We retrieved the car and headed up the A1A in the direction of Fort Lauderdale. We could’ve taken the highway, but there’s a lot to see on that route. There’s something about that oceanside ridiculousness that I love a lot.

Once we got tired of the stop-and-go traffic, we headed back toward the interstate. At that point my father-in-law was napping in the back, so we figured it was a good time to go check into the hotel (it was around 5pm). We took 595 over to Plantation, a suburb west of downtown Fort Lauderdale, and managed to locate the Sheraton Suites. From what we could tell, the entire town of Plantation is one gigantic strip mall after another, and the hotel was no exception: it seemed to be located right in the middle of an abandoned mall. It was really nice, just a little strange.

The in-laws wanted to get comfortable, have a brandy (they brought their own bottle from Minnesota, fearing that E&J – the only brandy Judy will drink – would be in short supply in Florida), and take showers. Judy swore it would take her an hour to wash and do her hair, which seemed unlikely. Matt and I were ill-prepared for room-based relaxation, since we had brought nothing to drink from home. We dropped them off, looked up the location of the nearest liquor store (shocker: it was in a strip mall a mile away), and headed over there to get some room beers.

The place we found had an incredible beer selection, so we built a couple of our own 6-packs (a combination of local stuff and other things we hadn’t seen before, plus Dragon Stout, which we thought was only available in Jamaica!) and headed back to the hotel. We opened the suitcase but didn’t bother unpacking, since we were only spending the night. The room was fantastic, too: there was a big living/work area with a sideboard, a huge bathroom and closets, and a separate bedroom with a second TV. How many hotel rooms have a hallway? (The place isn’t convenient if you’re planning to spend a lot of time in the FLL area, but it’s great if you want to be near the interstate that will take you to the Keys with the least painful traffic congestion.)

We hung out for a while, then went to check in on Harlan and Judy in the room next door. Judy had changed to her going-out outfit, and they were enjoying a brandy. We talked about dinner options, and researched a couple spots where Matt had found vegetarian options on our phones. We finally decided on Seasons 52, and I called to make reservations for 8:30. Then we gathered our things and headed that way.

The restaurant was about 12 miles away near the beach, but it took a while to get there because the only direct route was on local streets. We finally managed to locate the mall where it was located (surprise!) on Highway 1, and parked in the nearest lot. We walked through the mall looking for it, and finally had to ask for directions. The entrance ended up being down a level and outside, near the other typical mall restaurants. We checked in with the host stand and stood around listening to the piano guy playing in the bar. The place was gigantic, and it was surprisingly packed, too.

We were seated, and attended to by a very unpleasant server. He was incredibly slow, and also impatient with my in-laws. While the food was seriously excellent (I had a vegetarian platter with a grain salad, cedar-roasted tofu, chutney, roasted vegetables, and a delicious taco), the service was unbelievably bad. I guess that’s what you get for going to a big chain restaurant in a mall in Florida.

We fixed it afterwards, though, because then it was time to go to Mai Kai, one of the greatest tiki bars on earth. We were worried that it would be really busy, and that was backed up by the huge crowd standing out front as we arrived. It turned out that it was the crowd for their nightly luau show all waiting for the valets, and the place was actually nearly empty. (We even got to park our own car!) We got a table and ordered a round of drinks. Matt’s Jet Pilot was amazing, and incredibly strong.

Harlan went to the bathroom and reappeared a long time later. He told us his zipper got stuck in the down position and he couldn’t fix it, so he finally asked the bathroom attendant if he could help. The attendant told him to hold the bottom of the zipper and tug; that worked, so he tipped the guy a dollar for the advice. (At this point in the story, we were all falling off our chairs laughing.) He also got lost leaving the bathroom, and told us he wandered all over the restaurant (it’s made up of several gigantic rooms, all decorated differently), and finally ended up crossing a bridge and ending up in a rainforest. We had no idea where that was, because we’d only ever seen the bar.

Unfortunately we couldn’t stay very late (his parents looked like they were going to doze off), but we were happy to get in a visit. While Judy and I were waiting for them to finish up, one of the hosts asked us if we’d seen the shrunken head yet. I had no idea what that was about, but since we’d already decided we had to make a return visit on the other end of the trip, I put it on my to-do list.

We headed back to the hotel, and the journey seemed a LOT longer on the way back. We finally got to the hotel, and headed to our rooms for the night. Matt and I enjoyed a delicious Abita Pecan nightcap before going to sleep. Hooray, vacation!

We got up at 9:30 Saturday morning and had to repack suitcases since mine was 52 pounds. We worked that out, crammed all our stuff in the car, and headed to FLL. The car dropoff was quick, and the entire thing cost a total of $103 since I’d redeemed points for most of it. We hopped on the shuttle to terminal two, dealt with crappy service at both check-in and security (where my mother tried to carry through three bags of toiletries), and finally got to our gate.

We picked up coffee and bagels and then ended up at the airport bar for a morning beer. Boarding was quick and we had a 2-seat row to ourselves, so that was good. And as a bonus, we had a layover at CVG, which is in northern Kentucky!

We got there just in time for lunch, so I had a delicious vegetarian ‘cheesesteak’, and Matt got chili, as you do in Cincinnati. Plus Andy Dalton made it, I think.

The rest of our travels were uneventful, and we managed to get the in-laws and all our souvenirs home in one piece!

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.

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.

[To see the entire Flickr photoset from this trip, go here!]

Sunday morning at 3:00am (which was still technically Saturday night), I dragged myself out of bed, tearfully said goodbye to my boyfriend (the trip had been booked long before we were dating, or I wouldn’t have subjected myself to an entire week without him), and drove to my mom’s house to catch a ride to the airport. Wendy, Stephanie, and I piled our gigantic suitcases into the sexy red Neon, and we headed to the airport.

I don’t remember much of the flight, except that Wendy and I probably giggled like retards, and our flight attendants were named Ginger and Mike. I only know this because it’s the first entry in my travel journal. In Philadelphia (the flight wasn’t exactly direct), the pilot told us we were 17th in line to take off. I’m pretty sure Crashy Airlines (i.e. AirTran) doesn’t often get precedence on the runway.

wendy examining the map of st thomas

We arrived uneventfully and only a tiny bit late. Outside the airport, we got ourselves a cab and rode to Port Everglades; it’s about a 10-minute ride, and cost $15. It’s kind of ridiculous that the shuttles charge $20+ a person.

Porters at the entrance to the dock took our bags, and we headed into the embarkation area. There was a long line, but it moved fast, plus everybody was just really damn excited to be going on a cruise. We gave them our tickets, registered our credit cards, and headed toward the ship. They took a really gay picture of us holding a lifesaver, gave us handwipes for our own personal cleanliness, and suddenly we were on the ship.

We stood in the lobby, not really knowing where to go. It’s so huge and ornate that’s confusing. We asked a crew member, and were pointed in the direction of our cabin, where Wendy’s birthday surprise awaited us:

birthday cake for wendy, a card from the captain, and champagne.

The champagne didn’t last long, and the fact that there were only two glasses wasn’t really a problem for us. We scrambled around the cabin, investigating every very exciting thing we could find (the tiny bathroom, the minibar, the cruise itinerary, the note from our cabin steward, who was quickly renamed Il Duce for reasons that are still unclear). The minibar was locked, so putting in a request to have it unlocked was our first order of business.

They had put us at the regular instead of the late dinner, so we set off to find the maitre d’s station, as noted on the map. They switched our mealtime, and we set off to wander around the ship until it was time for the muster drill.

docked at ft lauderdale

Promptly at 4:30pm, we put on our very sexy lifejackets and headed to our muster station. They lined us up three deep, and we tried really hard to restrain our laughter. The ship started moving, and just then, a little boat sped past us on the way out of the harbor. The girls screamed and flashed their tits. We hooted. The others around us were not as excited.

muster drill

lobby bar

We went up to one of the top decks to check out the view leaving Florida, and of course attend to the important business of getting us some cocktails. The bartender made me a mojito with Equal instead of sugar, and I’m pretty sure the guys behind the bar were the nicest people we’d ever met.

leaving ft lauderdale, with mojito

We sat out on the back deck watching the land receding, then found a table where it was less windy. The bartender came and asked if we wanted another round, remembering both my name and my drink. We were instantly in love with the cruise.

We went to our cabin to unpack before dinner, then went to explore the ship some more. At that point, it seemed incomprehensible that we’d ever learn how to get around it all. There are still a few places I’m pretty sure we didn’t manage to see over the course of the week. We did a great job of finding awesome hangouts, though.

Dinner was at 8:30, and there were people lined up outside the doors of the two-level restaurant when we got there. We had an 8-person table, so we were seated with a family from Chicago. They had two really cute little girls, who were both dozing off on the table by the end of the meal.

They brought us another bottle of champagne at dinner, to celebrate Wendy’s birthday. We shared it with our tablemates. Then the food started arriving, and holy crap. It seemed natural to pick out one item for every course on the menu, but it was SO MUCH FOOD. There was even a sugar-free dessert.

We wandered around after dinner, looking for a bar with no smoking. There were a bunch of old people tangoing in the piano bar, and we stopped there for a drink. It was a pretty boring bar, and we made a point of dissing it every time we walked through for the rest of the cruise. Hey, the piano guy was not awesome at all. It happens.

We went into the club, which had just opened to the public for the night; it had been singles’ night before that, and now it was time for DANCETERIA 3000 (I just made that up). We had awesome shots called the Woo-Woo, and then Wendy and I headed downstairs to the light-up dance floor. There was a huge projection on one wall that was just film of people on the ship and excursions. So funny. There was hardly anyone there at all, and we slowly realized that most of the people dancing were actually crew members. They’re there to get people involved!

Stephanie didn’t want to dance, so we headed down to a lounge at the other end of the ship (one for which we were predestined, but we didn’t know that yet). The old white-haired doctor was sitting near the bar, drinking, surrounded by ladies. It was awesome.

We had to get up far too early on our last day, in order to gather in the theatre at 8am. We had breakfast on the back deck one last time, and watched the sun rise. We were already docked in Fort Lauderdale.

Since we had booked an excursion, we got to get off the boat a little earlier than the rest of the passengers. We found our luggage in a giant room in the embarkation building, and had to stop to talk to a customs agent on the way out. I was worried because we were slightly over the limit for alcohol (one person can only bring back two bottles). I handed the dude my slip and passport, and he asked, “Do you have any alcohol or tobacco?” I replied, “I have a 750 of Dominican rum.” He said, “Don’t drink it all before you leave the seaport!” Um, next time I’m bringing back an entire liquor store.

We got on the bus for our excursion and sat there for a long time, waiting for the rest of the passengers. Since our flight wasn’t til late afternoon, we were going to the Everglades, and then the bus would drop us off at the airport.

We drove about a half-hour to a private park in the Everglades, and parked right at the airboat dock. Riding an airboat is one of those things I’ve been dying to do forever, and we didn’t have the opportunity in Louisiana. I was excited.

The airboat was awesome. It was low to the water, noisy, and went way faster than we expected. We saw a ton of other wildlife, but it seemed like we’d been looking for a long time without seeing any alligators. I was starting to think we might not.

And then!

We got so close to some of the alligators, it was kind of scary. I felt like they were looking me right in the eye.

After our boat ride, we went down to see the alligator-wrangling demo. They also had a tiny baby named Bobber, who we took turns holding.

We watched a big redneck dude wrestle and pin an alligator, then pry her mouth open so we could see. I kind of felt bad for the animal, because she was hella crabby about it.

We hopped back on the bus, and it drove us to the Fort Lauderdale airport. Half of us got off; the rest were going on to Miami. We got there around 1pm (our flight was at 4:30), and figured we’d have plenty of time to have lunch in the airport and hang out. Oh, but we were dead wrong. The line snaked all over the check-in area and back down the main hallway. We stood there for over 2 hours, talking to the people around us, and reading standing up. We took turns going into shops for snacks and pop, and going to the bathroom. It sucked a lot.

After checking in, we then had to get in the line to drop our bags off. We left exit the building and lined up outside. After a bit, we noticed that half the bags in line didn’t have tags on them, which meant they hadn’t checked in yet. We and a bunch of other people were in the wrong line; we went back inside and took up spots at the end of another very long line. It was horrible, and the people working there looked miserable.

After another 45 minutes, we were able to leave our bags, and headed to the security check. We were close to being late for the flight, as was probably everyone else in that airport. Finally we got to the gate, boarded, and the plane seemed as if it would be only a little delayed. Wendy and I were punchy, so we passed the time making signs to hold up to the window, hoping passengers on other planes would see them. One of them was “HELP! There’s an alligator on our plane!!” We were laughing so hard that the flight attendant came over to see what the hell we were up to.

Our flight crew was Captain Bob and Johnny Payne; I’m pretty sure they were superheroes. Captain Bob introduced the flight attendants as ‘pretty girls’. We got to Atlanta on time, and had three hours before our connecting flight, so we took the train into downtown to find dinner. We wandered around for a few blocks, and every single business there was closed. The city seemed deserted. Because the train ride took so long, we decided to just get food at the airport; we headed back and went to Houlihan’s, where they made me a veggie burger and I considered napping on the table.

The flight to Minneapolis left on time, thankfully, and we got back to the cold close to midnight. The best part of all of that was that Matt stayed up waiting for me to get home. I missed him like crazy, which is exactly why he’s coming on the next cruise with us.

Stay tuned for Cruise II: THE REVENGE, when Wendy, Cindi, Jumi, Matt and I return to the Caribbean, and possibly even light the boat on fire again. We can hope.