“Honeymoon” was the month after a wedding, when the bride’s father would give the groom all the mead he wanted. Mead is a honey beer. The Babylonians started calling the month the “honey month” but we now call it a “honeymoon“
Just a few short weeks after Andrew and I said “ I Do” we hopped in a car and drove to Fort Lauderdale. My father in law gifted us not with mead but a cruise, not just any but a seven day trip to the Caribbean. With it being such short notice the price to fly was insanely expensive so our only option was to drive. I swear it seemed like a great idea until we hit North Carolina and our engine light flashed before our eyes. With our luck we knew it be best we pull over only to find ourselves in the world’s largest truck stop, Kenley’s. Okay maybe not the largest but we spent two hours just playing around at 2 am giving our car some time to chill out. A shot of five hour energy, the smell of boiled peanuts and we were off for another twenty million hour drive to Florida!
When we finally arrived to Fort Lauderdale we downed as many drinks as it took to forget we spent twenty fours in a stinky sweaty moving box. Andrew’s mother greeted us with some fine dining mixed in with a night of laughter. Our honeymoon was already on an uphill of a wild ride. The next morning we awoke to the first of seven crazy days. We arrived to our ship which to compared to the other ships was a life boat with beds. It was impossible not to feel every wave on that rough Atlantic water. [Epic Window View Though!]
First day out Andrew woke up to eat breakfast alone which he made sure never happened again, so hungover I went everyday wobbling side to side with eggs in hand. The sun kissed our skin, that we made friends by sharing sunblock. Unfortunately as the sun set we were too drained to do anything other than order late night quesadillas and watch creepy ocean movies. Why do cruises think it’s okay to show ships sinking?
Turks and Caicos was our first stop, it was a bit more low scale than I thought it was, don’t rich people vacation there? Even so, it turned out to be one of my favorite islands. Salem, our Jamaican bartender had the rum punch “a flowing” and honestly you need to do Olympic training for that shit. What surprised me most about the island was how many different people from the surrounding areas came together to call Turks home. It was quite a beautiful sight, something we in America should learn from. From the clear salty beaches, to the delicious jerk chicken I had twice it was truly a place I will never forget. These words Salem said to me never stopped swirling in my head; “No one who lived on a tropical island ever went searching for anytin betta, man”.
Island time surely does seem to pass you by faster than you can say “another shot, please”. Andrew and I learned from first hand experience what it is like to order shots as you watch the other cruise guests wait on line to get back on the ship. Four shots later with another cruise couple we are getting called by a stranger in a golf cart saying the boat is waiting for us. Shoved in the ship like cattle, I noticed I lost my ID & room card. A hundred percent there’s a video out there somewhere with crew members chomping on popcorn at the scene I pulled on that ship. I cried, I ranted, I threw everything in my bag on the floor until the Captain showed up to tell me that if I didn’t calm down I’d be ban from drinking. As soon as he said that my eyes dried up and I scurried back to my room where Andrew had escaped a long while back with my ID & room card. And that’s how you let everyone know who the psycho on the boat is.
To be continued…