Things I Learned on a Caribbean Cruise

John and I got back Sunday from a CME cruise to the Caribbean.  Here are some of the (surprising, and not so surprising) things I learned.


1.  If you go on a cruise as a relatively fit, early-thirties couple, you will find yourself in the bottom 25th percentile of both age and girth for the ship's population.  (This lesson could actually be expanded upon to include such disturbing things as fat-roll tan-lines and XXXXL speedos, but I'll spare you all.)

2.  The extraordinarily bratty and demanding are probably a minority of any population, but in an enclosed space (even a space as large as a 15-deck cruise ship) they quickly seem to become the majority.
      
3.  Even inanities (such as "Please keep your arms and legs inside the bus at all times.") are absolutely charming when spoken with the accent of the British Virgin Islands.  Also, a car in the BVI without a horn is about as much good as a car without an engine.  You definitely need one if you are going to get around huge trucks like these. . .

. . . on crazy mountain roads like this.

(Of all the days to forget my camera, I didn't bring it as we toured Tortola, and that was the place I needed it most.  So the pictures above have been snatched from the World Wide Webs.)
4.  When given the opportunity to nap, lounge, and read as I see fit, I will a) nap every day, b) read 5 books in 5 days, and c) lounge like a cat.  And I won't get sick of it.

(Edited to add the books I read:  The Complete Short Stories of Dorothy Sayers (LOVE her and her Lord Peter stories--didn't care so much for her murderer-viewpoint stories), Spartan Gold by Clive Cussler (as ridiculous and unintentionally funny as all his books are), My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok (I'm still working through my opinion on this, but it's definitely worth reading.), The American Plague by Molly Something (fascinating and disturbing--my perspective on yellow fever is forever changed), and Black Sheep by Georgette Heyer (delightful and brainless, as all her books are). )
5.  Sometimes the most memorable part of a day won't be the historic forts visited.

Or the pile of enormous cannonballs found.

Or the miles and miles and miles you walk along huge stone walls you weren't even aware existed the day before.

Sometimes the most memorable part of a day will be that my sweet military-history-obsessed husband will notice how longingly I watch all the kites being flown on a Puerto-Rican holiday in a Puerto-Rican field . . .

. . . find an abandoned, broken-down kite, . . .

. . . repair it and restring it with more discarded materials. . .

 . . . and launch it into the windy sea air patiently again and again until it finally takes flight and I giggle with delight like I'm six years old again. 

6.  A very frivolous, very yellow, very impractical pair of wedge sandals is exactly the purchase that should be made the day before embarking on an a cruise-like adventure.  It won't be regretted. 

(I think six lessons are enough for one post.  I'll continue with this tomorrow.)