I spent last week sailing around the Caribbean with Liz (and 3,000 other passengers), which is why it was so quiet around here. We shot a bunch of video, which I expect to translate into one or more video blog entries, but for now I thought I’d share a few highlights because editing video takes a long time, you guys.
- Sailing out of NYC, which meant we skipped airports altogether and took a subway and a cab to our ship. Forty minutes after we left our apartment, we were on the deck of the ship with drinks in hand. Cannot recommend this enough.
- Discovering the wonder that is the chipotle martini, my new favorite. It starts out tasting like pineapple, then turns minty, then finishes peppery. We got the recipe, and this will definitely be something I learn to mix.
- Talking with the bartenders and cruise staff about their home countries; learning about the history of Myanmar from Htun, who lived there through about a half dozen governments; when we asked him his favorite place from all his world travels, he said “home.” He’s been working on cruise ships for decades, but he’ll never afford to take his family on a vacation.
- Finding my perfect vacation hat in San Juan, eating my first (and yeah, probably last) mofongo, exploring Calle de San Sebastian after dark (but sadly before it got really lively) and finding a cockatoo that said “hola.”
- Accidentally breaking up a date-rape-in-progress by drunkenly stumbling into a waiter who spilled a drink all over the poor girl. Subsequently being barked at (literally) by the guyliner-wearing “rocker” who’d been running his game on the victim.
- Acquiring $500-$600 worth of hooch in Saint Thomas for around $220. Yes, we’re those people.
- Discovering that most of Guyliner’s band was aboard the ship, that they were all in full regalia (including heavy eye makeup) at all times, and that the lead man looked like the chubby son of Simon Le Bon and Mark Hoppus. Realizing they spent 90% of their time trying to date rape girls by the pool.
- Walking four miles along the main road in Grand Turk, while every cabbie on the island stopped to offer us a ride, and encountering wild horses, wild dogs, and wild cows. Meeting a guy who repairs ships for a living, and who explained between puffs on his joint how he lived in New York City for a single winter before running back to the Caribbean. “That place was meant for people with fur,” he explained.
- Snorkeling twenty feet off of Governor’s Beach in water so clear you could see twenty feet down, and encountering like, seriously, hundreds of kinds of fish you guys.
- Secretly replacing all the promo cards the band left around the ship with Coach Corky Runs flyers.
- Discovering the ship’s piano bar late in the trip, belting songs terribly, and becoming part of the piano bar tribe.
- Finding out from the piano bar folks that the Guyliner band members were there with their parents.
- Getting home half an hour after disembarking from the ship, because once again we didn’t have to go to the airport. Seriously, you guys, we didn’t have to go to the airport.
In the end I’d say Grand Turk was my favorite port. It’s tiny and underdeveloped and quiet, and in a lot of places you could almost believe you were alone on the entire island. I’d also say that date-rapey cover bands from Connecticut who think wearing eyeliner still makes musicians look cool are just the worst.