There were a couple of these cool “living statues” standing around, each with a large coffee can for money to be tossed in.
While I was gone, another ship pulled in alongside the Navigator; it was a Celebrity ship, but I forget the name. I was following behind this very drunk woman who kept hollering, “Ah need a WHEELCHAIR!” as she stumbled along. I met up with Lesia as I made my way between the ships and we went through security together. The wheelchair woman said there was no liquor in her bag to delcare, but plenty inside her – we were cracking up! Lesia and I parted in the elevator, both heading back to our cabins to get cleaned up for dinner.
This would have been absolutely PERFECT if it was a longer excursion. As the tour guides were leading a water balloon toss game on the beach, I kept having visions of Mooses crawling all over that island for some future Moose Meet….
OK, so not a proper picture – I just took it just now, and didn’t even take them out of the bag, which explains the glare. There’s branch coral in there, too. I’ve not really unpacked all the way. It’s one of my most hated chores – that and emptying the dishwasher and folding/putting away the stuff from the dryer.
First, I went shelling. I forgot to mention earlier that while in Fort Lauderdale, there were a bazillion surf shops on the strip, and I stopped into one to get a shell-net-on-a-stick. It was a plastic children’s model, so the handle wasn’t as long as my nets at home, but it did the job. I still can’t believe I forgot it; I have like three of them in the garage, and should have grabbed one and stuck it in the big suitcase, but I forgot. I did, however, remember the mesh bag, so all was not lost. Most of what I found on the beach at Passion Island was exceedingly small, but I found enough of it to fill a small jar – small, as in, about the size of a Yankee Candle sampler.
So, above we have the view from my table at the big tiki hut; after patrolling the shore a bit, I decided I was hungry, and gave the food a try.
You don’t have to hang in the big hut – there are smaller tiki umbrellas dotted around that you can go and have a seat at.
Here’s my lunch. Chicken quessadias (did I spell that right?), and all the fixin’s, plus veggies and fruits. Also, rum punch! My idea of a good meal on a beach day!
Since I was doing this excursion alone (despite the hovering presence of Clarke), I imposed a two drink minimum upon myself. If I’d had some of my sistas with me, I might have indulged more, but I felt the need to keep my wits about me in a strange country, sitting next to a strange if goofy man on the bus…