Today we officially start our Jamaican vacation! We rise to a wonderful breakfast of omelets and Jamaican French Toast. What is Jamaican French Toast, you ask? It’s French toast you have in Jamaica! Duh! Afterwards we traipse down the stairs to the grotto. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, there’s a shitload of steps at this place! Visions of Tuscany flash before my eyes! OMG! My knees! The grotto is quite amazing. A huge cave with a canopy of trees and vines and all kinds of little critters. It’s out of the sun and actually quite cool. Now, out in the water about 25 yards off shore they have this huge floating air mattress. But, it doesn’t have a ladder or anything to help you get up. It’s quite hilarious to sit back and watch all of us old, out of shape people try to pull our asses out of the water on to this thing. Plus, there is the ever present danger of mooning. Not a pleasant thought. After much pulling, pushing, grunting and occasional curse, we make it. Now, you have to remember. This is February. These Texas bodies haven’t seen the sun in a while. The staff at our villa shade their eyes and pull the shutters to protect themselves from the glare. But we were smart little Texans. We only stayed out for a little while. Ever vigilant and cautious. Then, it’s time to eat again! And the sweet cook fixes chicken for me and my big sis. Yummy. Later we decide to venture to the sandy beach just a short distance down the beach. For some reason, we had them drive us. We piled in the van, he pulled out on the road, he turned right, we piled out of the van. Brilliant plan! Once again, we traipse down the stairs. (This is going to hurt later.) But, the beach is great! And, we have Paul, not my Paul, as our bartender slash cabana boy. After much back and forth, we have our drinks in hand and we wade into the warm water. Perfect. Now this is what I’m talking about. Sun, sand, alcoholic beverage in hand and my peeps. What could go wrong!
Well, I’ll tell you what could go wrong. First, the water was a little cloudy because of a storm, so it was hard to see. After much stumping of toes and tripping on rocks, we made it out in the water. Now, I really should mention, not one beverage was harmed during the making of this scene. But, Pretty Kitty, bless her heart, hit one particular rock a little hard and now has a beautiful shade of purplish, blue on her toe. Everyone say, Awwwwwww.
Now, this is not all that happened. Oh no. While sipping our drinks and frolicking in this murky water, the little jellyfish decided to come a calling. They got Kitty on the boob and butt, and yours truly was assaulted on my tushy. Not pleasant. But, our wonderful cabana boy Paul brought us some ‘jellyfish squish’ to spray on our sore parts. Stung like hell, but worked none the less. Cabana Boy informs us that ‘it’s really just a urine solution”. Great! Kind of explains why the guys didn’t get any jellyfish stings while they were in the water, doesn’t it. Now, it starts to rain. But, this is Jamaica! You don’t run out of the water! NO! We do not. Finally, it’s time to return to the villa. Randy, Kitty, Paul and I paddle kayaks back so we can use them later. Fun! I must admit, this group took the lemons the Jamaican gods threw at us and made Texas lemonade! Alcohol included! With a little pee on the side!
We had a wonderful dinner of shrimp and rice and for dessert, key lime pie. Now, by this time let’s just say that some us had enjoyed the liquid beverages a little more than others. I mean, there’s cocktails before meals, cocktails with meals, cocktails after meals and let’s not forget after dinner cream rum and something called pimento liqueur. It smelled a lot like the clove chewing gum we used to chew when we were kids. It was deemed, by some, as delicious and more was had! Next, it’s time for Mexican Train! Maybe this will be Peggy’s year! Poor little thing. Those Mexicans have kicked her ass off that train for years now. But, after many beverages, all day, (oh, did I mention the before breakfast cocktails?) we can’t stop yawning and nodding off, so we turn in after only one hand of train. Those pesky Mexicans will have to wait until tomorrow. Now this is the second night we have all hit the hay before 9. The staff here are starting to get a little suspicious of these strange tourists. Not only do they consume large amounts of alcohol but they talk funny, and sleep a lot. Well, who the hell cares. I’m pooped. I’m ready to climb (and I do mean climb! My bed is four feet off the floor! They have a fricking step ladder so I can get in to my bed and pass out.
Tomorrow is another day!
About Holly Kiehn
