We finally took a cruise. Somehow we managed to orchestrate reservations, flights, pet-sitting, transportation and packing in under a week. Then, we were on our way for seven nights in the Caribbean with 2100 of someone else's family and friends.
We were definitely ready for a vacation.
I love to travel. Internationally, in the US, in Massachusetts, even in my own town, I love exploring new places. I love getting lost in the internet wormholes of Trip Advisor, or Yelp, or Jauntaroo and see what sorts of places are out there. What is the most traditional meal from this region? What is the most interesting geographical feature of this place? What languages do the people speak here? What special watering hole do only the locals know about? How do the locals perceive themselves? How might they perceive me? I feel like you could send me absolutely anywhere, and I would find something interesting about that place, at least for a little while.
In the past, whenever we have taken long vacations, we've planned for months, doing extensive research on the place we're visiting. We would try and pack as much exploring as possible into a short amount of time, visiting natural attractions, local creative endeavors, historical sites, and most importantly, sampling as much local and traditional food as possible. This time, however, everything was so last minute, we barely knew where we were going, what we needed to pack, and what the heck was going on. That kind of fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants-ness was a good experience for both of us, though we determined that neither of us particularly prefer that method of "preparation".
We flew from Boston to San Juan, Puerto Rico, and took a taxi over to the pier, arriving at the Royal Caribbean Jewel of the Seas with plenty of time to spare. We were efficiently ushered through our registration process, despite the slightly dazed and confused looks on our faces. After they tagged and took our luggage, and were released into the wilderness of the ship, we stood wondering what the heck we were supposed to do next. We both felt incredibly out of our element and disoriented: hundreds of people, lights, colors, sounds, bars everywhere... In our eternal quest for knowledge, we had to explore the ship as much as possible before we could really relax and appreciate the fact that we were on a giant floating resort in the Caribbean. Eventually, I grabbed a Sangria, and it started to really sink in: we were FINALLY ON A CRUISE!
Every morning we woke up to a new island: St. Maartin, St. Kitts, Antigua, St. Lucia, and finally Barbados. Each day we followed a similar routine: wake up, grab a quick breakfast on ship, do an excursion on the island in the morning, eat lunch somewhere locally, wander around the port city, return to the ship, pass out, wake up, wipe the drool from our faces, take a shower, head to dinner, check out the performances or events or activities, return to our room, pass out. Rinse and repeat.
We kicked off our adventures with SNUBA Diving on the Dutch side of St. Maartin. SNUBA is a cross between scuba diving and snorkeling: you have a regulator in your mouth, attached to a 20 foot tube, which is attached to an oxygen tank floating on the surface in a raft. So, you breathe the same way you would with scuba, but you aren't carrying your own tank, and you can only go to depths of 20 feet, since you're tethered to the tank raft. No risk of the bends at only 20 feet, so no training necessary. The breathing part was the most difficult to adjust to for me; as I was trying to get used to the stiffness of the regulator, I was suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety that my previously-operated-on and cancer-hosting lungs would completely crap out on me and I was going to suffocate and die right there at that moment. Also, have I mentioned that drowning and suffocation have always been my biggest fears? Contributing to my claustrophobia? As I'm watching Tom get smaller and smaller below me - completely oblivious to my fears because he's so excited to do this - somehow my determination surfaces, and gives me a lecture about facing your fears, you only live once, you can succeed despite your shortcomings, blah, blah, blah. So, with a deep breath in and out, and maybe a bit of a whine, down I went.
It was totally worth it. We saw all kinds of ocean life, the highlights being Parrot fish, angel fish, and a school of small cuttle fish, just floating around, looking otherworldly. Upon returning to the surface, we were offered a rum punch for our trip back to land. I felt as though I deserved it... so much so that I had to order another one for lunch.
The next day on St. Kitts, we continued the tradition of doing frightening and potentially dangerous things and calling it "adventurous" by doing a Zip Line. Tom had never done a zip line before, and while this was not my first cable line rodeo, it was definitely a memorable experience. We climbed deep into the jungle of St. Kitts, and rode down several lines at speeds up to 40 mph. The views were spectacular.
Once back on the ground, I congratulated myself on a job well done with a little more rum punch with my freshly caught fish sandwich. Tom opted for the island local brew to pair with his curried goat.
For our next day in Antigua, we didn't book a specific activity through the cruise line, but left it up to chance. As soon as we stepped into the port city, we were accosted by locals, offering us taxis to various places on the island. Fortunately, we were able to find a gentleman by the name of Stanford, who took just the two of us on a quick driving tour of the island, before depositing us on Darkwood beach. There, we enjoyed another local lunch of fish, curry, beer, and rum cocktails from the beach side food joint, and spent the rest of the afternoon swimming, snorkeling, and marveled at the fact that we were on a beach in the Caribbean.
Our fourth stop was St. Lucia. Again, we had purposefully not booked anything ahead of time, so, encouraged by our experience on Antigua, went in search of another impromptu adventure. This time, we discovered that water taxis were the best way to view the island's hot spots, as driving through St. Lucia's volcanic jungle center would take three times as long. So we found two gentlemen - Jon and Howard - who took us and another couple out in their small boat for a tour around the island. We stopped on a black-sanded beach (due to the volcano) where Howard showed us fantastic sea life just beneath the surface. He also showed us into an underwater cave. It was some of the best snorkeling we've ever done.
While we had our heads underwater with Howard, Jon had gotten take out from a local restaurant for lunch. Again, fish was the main course, with some rice and beans, and some local root vegetables the name of which I can't possibly remember. And before you get too concerned, don't worry, they provided us with rum punch on the boat ride back to the pier.
Our final island day began in Bridgetown, the port city of Barbados. This city was far more populated than any of our previous stops, and felt much more like a bustling coastal city in any other country. The rum business has clearly had an effect on this island. In the morning, we ended our island adventures with the most touristy excursion yet: snorkeling with shipwrecks and sea turtles. We hopped on a catamaran - outfitted with a bar and fifty other cruising tourists - and were on our way.
Off ship, this was the most crowded adventure we had the whole trip. While it was still thrilling to touch the shell of a sea turtle and explore a century-old sunken ship, we found the crowds distracting, particularly when I was roughly shoved aside by an awkward snorkeler determined to get her hands on a turtle.
Upon debarking the teeming catamaran, we asked our tour guide where to get a good, local lunch. She quickly recommended Mustor's, saying she ate there regularly. So, of course, we went on a hunt for the place, and were not disappointed. I had the national dish of Barbados: flying fish with a heaping side of cou cou, a corn meal and okra concoction similar to polenta. Unfortunately, no rum punch at this joint, so we went with local brews instead.
We were at sea for the entire last day of the cruise, which gave us the opportunity to really explore the ship itself, as well as spend some time relaxing and reading poolside. But first, we had to try the climbing wall. Tom was determined to go up the wall. I was... apprehensive. I'd say I have a normal fear of heights: I don't mind being up high, as long as I know I'm secured somehow. I haven't ever had much upper body strength (something about playing soccer for ten years really imbalanced my muscle growth), but I knew I'd have to try. Tom went first, and, naturally, made it look easy.
My limbs started shaking within moments of my ascent, and again my mind went racing: I had knee surgery less than a year ago, and it hasn't quite recovered it's full strength... my left side is still getting back into shape from my lung surgery... my muscles have disintegrated into flab and I've gained fifteen pounds this past year thanks to chemo... what am I doing? But my determination reared it's ugly head once again, and forced me to continue upward and ring that damned bell at the top. So I did.
And what did I do afterwards to celebrate my victory? Drank a rum cocktail out of a pineapple, what else?
Overall, we had a fantastic time on our cruise. We loved visiting and exploring the islands, and the staff and food on the ship was excellent. That being said, we think we still enjoy a less mass-produced form of travel, like renting a car, buying a tour book, talking to locals, exploring a place on our own and seeing where the day takes us, but we're so glad we had the experience of a cruise. And, really, let's focus on the most important thing here: how else were we supposed to do a rum tasting from six different islands?
Just got caught up on here. You. Are. Amazing.
ReplyDeleteThat is all.