Cyprus

The first thing we did when the boat docked in Cyprus was to find a coffee shop with Wi-Fi.  The next thing we did was start to panic as we all realized that nobody had bothered to plan any adventures for our short weekend getaway.  The third thing  we did was decide to just wing it, start walking, and see what happened. And the fourth thing we did was to finally detach our carcasses from the sofa in the climate controlled coffee shop and schlep off into the heat of the great unknown.

The ship had pulled into port in Larnaca, third largest city in Cyprus, located along the island's southern coast.  Larnaca is best known for its gorgeous palm tree seafront, which would explain why that's the feature I remember most vividly.  In researching for this blog post, I learned that the city is thought to have received its name because of the large number of larnakes (sarcophaguses) that were discovered there.  I'm sad to report that I didn't see any.  Reason enough to return, I suppose.

As we walked along the palm-riddled Finikoudes Promenade, we stumbled upon a few pieces of art.

Left:  Zeno of Kition (ancient Larnaka).  Zeno is credited as the founder of Stoicism,  a Hellenistic school of Philosophy.  He was the first to divide philosophy into logic, physics, and ethics.  He taught that the purpose of human existence is the virtuous life, which is the life in accordance with nature.

Right:  This monument marks the spot where Armenian refugees fleeing persecution during the genocide of 1915 first landed in Cyprus.  Known as the Armenian Holocaust, the tragic event occurred when the Ottoman government set out to systematically exterminate its minority Armenian subjects within their historic homelands, what would today be known as the Republic of Turkey.  The sculpture represents the gratitude of the Armenian nation towards the people of Cyprus for their assistance and generosity to those refugees and stands in memory of the countless victims of the Armenian genocide.

Venetian Lion.  Venice has a long history with Cyrpus, which will be touched upon below.

Larnaka Castle was allegedly founded by the Byzantines in the 12th century, though the oldest written evidence of its existence dates only to the 14th century.  Chronographer Florius Boustronius dates the castle to the era of King James I (1382-1398AD) of House Lusignan, who is said to have built the castle to protect the town harbor.

During the period of Venetian rule (See?  I told you it was below.), the fort was strengthened as a result of the upgrading of the port, which at the time played a pivotal role in the trade of salt and other goods to and from the Syro-Palestine coast and the Western World.  The fort was abandoned at the end of the Venetian period when it was decided that the base of island defense would be moved elsewhere.  Ottoman troops landed near the fort and decided to use the port as the base for their own fleet.

Sources from the 18th century say that the castle, having long since fallen into a state of disrepair, was rebuilt by the Turks in 1625AD and retrofitted with cannons and other forms of defense.  More recently, the British used the castle as a place for the execution of convicts and as a prison.  These practices ended in 1948.  Today, the castle hosts a Medieval Museum and a garden theater.

Now, we were very bad tourists in that we didn't take many photos of ourselves during this weekend outing...but we all somehow managed to take a photo here.  So, enjoy.

Our next stop was...a bus stop!  With only 24 hours or so to see the island, we decided our time would best be spent seeing the city of Nicosia on our first afternoon, and then spend the following morning/early afternoon further exploring Larnaca prior to the ship's departure for Haifa.

Nicosia, the islands largest city, is the capital and seat of government of the Republic of Cyprus.  The northern part of the city functions as the capital of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus.  This disputed region, recognized only by Turkey, is considered Cypriot territory under Turkish occupation by the international community, and has been considered such since 1974.

On July 15, 1974 the Cypriot National Guard ousted President Makarios III and replaced him with Nikos Sampson, who was in favor of a union with Greece.  In response to this coup, Turkey invaded the island on July 20, claiming that the action was compliant with the 1960 treaty of Guarantee, which prevented Cyprus from participating in any political or economic union with another state.   Turkey soon took control of the north and divided Cyprus along what came to be known as the Green Line.  Sampson resigned and Makarios returned.  It goes without saying that, living in Jerusalem, all of this sounds somewhat familiar.

RESOLUTION (1995), by Cypriot sculptor Theodoulos Grigoriou, reiterates the faith of the city of Nicosia and its inhabitants to human rights as the only precondition to peace and freedom.  It was the very first thing we noticed after hopping off of the bus and making our way into the heart of Greek Nicosia.

On the round cement base, part of the text of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is written in embossed Greek letters. Steel lances driven into the center of the text represent its symbolic destruction.  The sculpture is a protest to the violation of human rights.  From where I was standing, looking straight ahead was the expanse of Greek Nicosia.  Directly behind me was the entrance to Turkish Nicosia.

Scanning the plaza before us an noting a beautiful, bustling, but otherwise normal city city center, we turned and opted to first explore the Turkish side of things.

We first found ourselves at the Büyük Han (Big Inn), located in the market center.  The Han, which was built in 1572 to provide accommodation for travelers from Anatolia and other parts of Cyprus, consists of 68 rooms which open to vaulted galleries surrounding an inner courtyard and 10 additional shops that open to the outside of the Han.  An Ottoman mosque stand on marble piers in a fountain at the center of the courtyard.  We took a moment to peruse the shops, which consisted of local textiles and craft works, before continuing our explorations.

We next stumbled upon the gorgeous-on-the-outside-but-not-sure-about-the-inside-because-it-was-closed Bedestan (Saint Nicholas Church), which combines 6th century Byzantine and 14th centuryGothic architectural characteristics.  The church was used as a covered market (bedestan) during the Ottoman rule but was restored by the United Nations Development Program, Partnership for Future (UNDP PFF) and funded by the European Union and Cyprus Evkaf Foundation over a five year period that ended in 2009.  

Adjacent to the Besestan was the Selimiye mosque.  Originally a Roman Catholic cathedral, the

mosque is the oldest and perhaps finest examples of Gothic art in Cyprus.  Construction egan in 1209 during the reign of Lusignan king Henry I and lasted 150 years.  When the Ottomans told the city in 1570, they destroyed much of the existing decor as they converted the structure into a mosque.  The Selimiye is the most beautiful, most attended mosque in Nicosia.  As an active house of worship that was currently between prayers, the doors were open and we were able to step inside for a quick look around.

It was getting late by this point so we headed back over to the city's Greek side for Pete's official birthday dinner at an unofficial Chili's...

...before heading back to Larnaca, where a night that began with margaritas at Chili's Chilies ended in a hazy hot mess sometime after this photo was taken at a club whose sole customer base seemed to be us and a group of old ladies that really liked to shake their groove thangs.

Due to excessive birthday-ing the night before, the morning of ship's departure was spent nursing a coffee at the only Starbucks in Larnaca and then slowly trudging up and down the beach...which ain't such a bad way to spend a morning.

Setting Sail for Cyprus on the Good Ship "Dirty Princess"

Click here for boring ship specs.

Our friends Jacob and Pete invited us along for a weekend cruise (April 24-26) to Cyprus in honor of Pete's birthday that weekend.  Always looking for an excuse to get out of town, and no strangers to cruise life, we jumped at the chance.  Plus, it was a Groupon deal!

Annnd, we got what we paid for.

First of all, my absolute, deepest, most sincere apologies to the staff and crew of the Norwegian Jade.  I take it alllllll back.  We may sail the seas with you again after all.  I mean, you may have had your issues, but…damn.

Our troubles began almost immediately, with heavy traffic and poor (ok, no) signage indicating where the dock was or where one should park leading us to seriously wonder if we would even make the boarding deadline.  When we finally pulled into port and asked where we could park, we were directed up a ramp, past a security gate, and into a small parking lot that said "No Parking."  We headed back down the ramp, back through the security gate, and out onto the street again.

Finding what looked like an official, but not exactly secure, parking lot, we headed the wrong way down a one way road (because it was, somehow, the only road) and miraculously found a parking spot without having an accident.  Luggage in tow, we scurried on foot back up the ramp, back passed the security gate, and into the terminal where we found Jacob and Pete, who had experienced similar frustrations yet somehow managed to gain access to the free staff parking lot (Um. Whaaa???).  Each couple would spend the entire trip casually wondering if our cars would be found where we had left them.  (Spoiler alert:  Cars were fine.)

The check-in process abided by standard cruise line practices, with one major exception:  they confiscated our passports!  Apparently, there is concern that the clientele will use the boat as an opportunity to exit Israel and then run away.  Or something.  We hemmed and hawed over this for a while, but ultimately, as we all carry two passports anyway, let them win the battle and continued the boarding process.    

Against all odds, we managed to board the ship, locate our rooms, and do a bit of exploring before the ship set sail.

They earn bonus points for already having the beds put together.  We've always had to request this after arrival on other cruise lines.

But they lose those points for having an actual key that we had to lug around instead of a key card.

They also lose points for the tiny bathroom that practically required me to put one foot in the toilet in order to take a shower.  

In the ship's lobby (which, to give you an idea of just how small this boat is, here's a picture of said lobby), we found several large museum-style labels printed on the finest cardboard.  They told of the ship's storied past.

The ship was commissioned by U.S.  Overseas National Airways as one of two luxury cruise ships.  Hugh Hefner was a partner in the design process, and he used Playboy's Entertainment and Recreation Club cruise ship as a style reference.  So, yeah, you know it's classy.  While under construction, the ship was acquired by Cunard Line  (You've heard of the Queen Elizabeth?).  The new owners decided to maintain the informal design begun by Hefner, and the ship was christened the Cunard Princess by Monaco's Princess Grace.  Although its maiden voyage saw it setting sail from New York to the Caribbean, the ship's primary cruising routes took it through coastal Europe and Central America.

Later acquired by Star Lauro and rechristened the Rhapsody, the ship added Africa to its itinerary.

Mano Maritime took over management of the ship in 2009, at which point she received her current name, The Golden Iris.  The ship now offers cruises throughout the Mediterranean that depart from Israel's Port of Haifa.

By the end of the weekend, the ship received another name: the Dirty Princess.  The ship was awarded this illustrious name for a number of reasons, chief among them:

• The vomit-clogged sink in the public restroom;
• The people in the dining room that would eat directly from the buffet with their fingers;
• The other people in the dining room that would drop food on the floor, pick it up, and put it back on the buffet;
• The nonstop soundtrack of rap and other music riddled with profanity.  I'm no prude, but this was a boat full of little children and Orthodox Jews.  Just seemed out of place.

As the ship set sail, we found ourselves enjoying drinks on the Lido deck as the ship's entertainment team danced awkwardly for our enjoyment.  This occurred shortly after, regulations put in place by the International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea to the contrary, we somehow managed to not get sent to a muster drill.  We asked several crewmembers where we should go, and they told us they didn't know, but wouldn't let us attend their muster.  We sat in the bar, alongside several other passengers, as numerous crew members walked by, noticing we weren't at muster but also not caring.  

The awkward dancing would continue each night as the entertainment crew put on what passed for an evening show.  Bless their hearts, they danced their hearts out, but with the low ceiling only a couple of feet above their heads, there wasn't much wiggle room for dynamic choreography.  I did have a major crush on the male vocalist (he's wearing that Miami Vice looking outfit in the pic below), so in my mind he could do no wrong.  My travel partners assure me he couldn't really sing, though.  Haters. 

Speaking of awkward singing, TJ tried his hand at Katy Perry's "I Kissed A Girl" during afternoon karaoke.  Being the conservative, family cruise that this was, heads exploded all over the place.

If you're familiar with Carnival, Disney, Norwegian, Royal Caribbean, or any other large chain, you'll be appalled to learn that meals were only served at strictly scheduled times during this cruise.  If you're late, you're out of luck.  It was all buffet-style, and our fellow diners attacked the buffet as if it contained the last bit of food on Earth.

Aside from the aforementioned singing and dancing, there was no entertainment on board.  Days that would normally be spent playing miniature golf, participating in trivia contests, or learning how to fold towels into various animal shapes could only be filled with alcohol and a poolside lounge chair.  That bit turned out to be not so bad.      

The most frustrating part about the voyage was that nothing about ship activities, port arrivals/departures, or dining options was easily obtained in English.  On every other cruise ship I've been on, they determine your language needs and deliver the appropriate material to your cabin.  Here, everyone received Hebrew reading material.  One had to go to the lobby and ask for materials in English.  And you had to specifically ask for them in English because just asking for the items IN English was never clue enough for the staff. 

That's not to say we didn't have a heck of a lot of fun, because we did.  We absolutely did.  The ship experience itself was so bizarrely terrible that it was campy.  And we do love camp.   Pete and Jacob had never been on a cruise ship before.  I'm not sure what they thought of the whole experience, but they did keep asking "Is it like this on every cruise ship?"...so I assume we were all on the same page.  Oh, and Cyprus itself was a lot of fun.  I'll talk about that next time.  No need in sullying the joy of Cyprus in this long and probably boring boat critique.   

When time finally came to disembark, instructions were given, only in Hebrew, as to how one could reclaim one's passport.  Due to this, we found ourselves being ushered off of the boat and into Passport Control...without our passports.  We turned to go back to the boat and were told by crew members that we could not return to the boat.  I said "Oh, I'm going back to the boat," and because everything was mismanaged all to hell anyway, that was apparently sufficient authority to get back on.  We found our passports at the front desk.  While disembarking for the second time, we ran into a member of the crew who had taken a liking to us after helping herself to Pete's M&M's the day before.  We suggested that it would be helpful to provide the appropriate information to guests that speak other languages so as to make their journey more pleasurable. 

I'm sure she'll get right on it.

The Honeymooners, Days Five Through Fourteen: Washy Washy, Happy Happy

We awoke from our fourth restful slumber in Rome on the morning of January 8th, grabbed our luggage, and walked back whence we initially came: Roma Termini.  After diligently studying the departures board, we decided that we had plenty of time to settle in for a leisurely bite to eat before our train left for Civitavecchia, the port town 80km northwest of Rome from which we would embark on our 10 day Mediterranean adventure.  

Finishing our brunch, we meandered over to the automated ticket machine.  As I was carrying a more burdensome load of luggage that consisted of an ornery duffel bag that enjoyed frequent nosedives off of the top of a wobbly rolling suitcase, I trailed behind TJ by some great number of yards.  I arrived at the ticket booth just in time to see TJ accepting assistance from someone who claimed to work at the train station.  The gentleman's help consisted of the complex task of confirming that the tickets we already planned to buy were in fact the tickets that we should buy, and pointing at the credit card slot.  Once the tickets printed, our new friend stuck his hand out.  TJ, confused, asked what what he wanted.  I explained the obvious:  the man did not work for the train station, and he wanted a tip.  "Oh. Well, I don't have any money.  Can you tip him?" TJ asked, wandering off towards the terminal.  Slack jawed, I opened my wallet, looked at my options, and bitterly let go of 20 euros, the smallest denomination I possessed.  We then realized that our train would be leaving in four minutes…and that it was on the absolute opposite side of the terminal.  Much running occurred.  We arrived just in time, and even managed to validate our tickets, which was beneficial, as attendants made rounds this time. 

The train ride was uneventful.  I sat next to a young Filipino man who, as it turned out, worked on the ship.  We made polite conversation and then never saw him again once the train arrived.  Sitting in front of us was what appeared to be an American couple from the midwest.  Or maybe they were brothers.  But they were definitely gay.  We made polite conversation with them as well.  We saw them several times each day of the cruise, but none of us ever bothered to say hello.  I suppose it had been a boring train chat.    

Our ship of choice this time around was the Norwgian Jade.  As we had only sailed with Carnival in the past, we weren't quite sure what to expect, though we did know that Norwegian was (supposed to be) a step above.  

On the surface, it all seemed pretty similar to us:  The dining room had a tacky floral glass pattern.  The stateroom was small and uninspired, yet efficient.  

The lido deck had a pool and a couple of jacuzzis.  We spent our evenings dancing and imbibing in the "club." 

TJ continued his tradition of entering contests on cruise ships.  This time it was a dance-off, and his partner was a crew member who looked exactly like Anna Kendrick.  He won fourth place, and an ugly t-shirt. 

We also met two gay couples and their lady friend that had come all the way from Venezuela.  We spent time with them every day, whether it be a quick breakfast, evening drinks, or uncomfortable dips in the still-to-cold-to-swim-because-it's-January pool.  It's always fun to make new friends on cruise vessels.  It helps to break up the monotony of the sea, and makes you feel like you're at home.  We're all Facebook buddies now, but sure to never see each other again.  Such is life.  

None of the above was any different than some variation of what we had experienced on our prior travels with Carnival.  So what, exactly, did Norwegian's perceived extra level of prestige offer us?

So glad you asked:

PROS:

• The ship was multilingual.  This makes sense, as it departed from Italy and catered to a primarily European audience.  All announcements were given in Italian, French, Spanish, and English.  This made for an incredibly long, yet necessary, muster drill.  Evening entertainment was generally in English, but conducted in a way such that language wasn't crucial to one's enjoyment (i.e. concerts, magic acts, dance routines).
• The itinerary was stellar, and the shore excursions were just what we had hoped for.  
• One of the perks offered upon booking our stateroom was a complimentary bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries.  They were yummy.
• Midnight roomservice BLTs  

CONS:

• Another perk offered at the time of booking was a $300 onboard credit.  When we arrived, we only received a third of that amount.  When we questioned this, the response was basically, "Tut-tut!  It said up to $300.  We got youuuuu."  No explanation was offered as to how one could have achieve the maximum credit.  
• The month prior, TJ made dining reservations for the ship's churrascaria on the evening of departure.  After realizing that the next day was our actual anniversary date and therefore a better evening for the reservation, he was disappointed to learn that the reservations could not be altered until we arrived on the ship.  Upon arrival we learned that reservations could not be changes with less than 24 hours notice without penalty.  Wait.  What?  
• Fortunately, the restaurant was closed that night, so they "generously" allowed us to reschedule for the following night anyway.  The food was subpar.  Here, and just about everywhere else.  
• The ship's acceptance of multiple languages and cultures did not extend to the dining staff, which consisted of an almost 100% Asian workforce.  The ship attempted to promote cleanliness in the dining facilities as a way to mitigate the risk of food-borne illnesses.  In their efforts, members of the waitstaff (again, mostly Asian) were required to stand at the entrances to eateries with a bottle of spray sanitizer and recite the phrase "Washy Washy, Happy Happy" immediately before squirting the pungent solution at passersby.  Perhaps we are overly sensitive, but this seemed really inconsiderate to people of Asian decent, as it is a common tool in racism to make fun of their English abilities in such a manner.  We felt justified in our reaction on the train ride back to Rome ten days later when, while discussing the trip with a Chinese-American couple from California, the wife proclaimed "That ship is SO racist!"
• The hand sanitizer set off a previously unknown allergy with such zeal that I thought I was coming down with the flu.   Luckily, TJ recognized the probable cause and, after switching to a strict regimen of hand washing and gel-dodging, I was back to normal within 24 hours.  
• The crew's sanitation efforts were for naught.  By day eight an unknown but likely high number of travelers were confined to quarters with stomach bugs of unknown origin.  We luckily escaped the illness but spent the rest of the cruise being very careful about our food intake.

Things could have been worse.  The ship was rotating from an eastern to a western Mediterranean itinerary when we disembarked, and travelers had been offered, at time of booking, to do two back-to-back cruises so that they could experience both journeys.  When we embarked, I thought it sounded pretty awesome and was jealous that we weren't doing it.  By the time we disembarked, I could think of no greater torture.  

We're already pondering our next vacation, and even our next cruise.  (In fact, I'm so behind on this blog that we've actually already taken another, shorter cruise…and sadly, that boat made the Norwegian Jade look like a dream. More on that in due time.)

We aren't sure where our next long cruise will take us…but it probably won't be on a Norwegian ship. 

Not that it was all bad.  As I said previously, the ports of call were spectacular.  Now that this ugly business is behind us, let's get back to the fun stuff.  See you next time! 

R&R, Part 2: Chichen Itza

On April 11th, the Carnival Triumph docked in Progreso, Mexico, and TJ was able to fulfill his lifelong dream of seeing the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza. Well, I guess we both fulfilled that dream. Can any of you honestly recall studying history in middle school (or watching Nickelodeon's The Mysterious Cities of Gold) and NOT wanting to visit the ruins of Mexico's ancient civilizations?

Plus, having visited the Aztec ruins of Teotihuacan (and what little we could see ofTenochtitlan) last May, it only seemed fitting that we bookend that adventure by making time for the Mayans as well.

Chichen Itza is about two hours south of Progreso by bus, and if you ever find yourself on a cruise with a Port of Call here (and, really, there's no other reason to find yourself in Progreso...most of our local friends have never even heard of the place) I would highly recommend booking an excursion to the ruins, which are categorized both as a UNESCO World Heritage Site (1988) and one of the New Seven Wonders of the World (2007).

Chichen Itza (or "Chicken Pizza," if you speak to any number of drunk 20-somethings we encountered on the boat) was one of the largest Mayan cities and enjoyed status as an economic power by way of its control of water-borne trade routes.

The tour got off to a good start, with a charismatic and engaging tour guide discussing some of the city's history during our bus ride. The tour included a box lunch that consisted of a sandwich, banana, and chips. Right before arriving at the archaeological site, we stopped at a rest area where TJ and I were able to watch our fellow travelers get suckered into buying overpriced souvenirs. One benefit of living in Mexico is that you quickly develop the ability to distinguish between quality goods and a pile of crap. You also know how much that stuff would cost outside of the tourist bubble. Poor saps.

When we arrived at the site, we were promised a one hour guided tour followed by one hour of free exploration before we needed to return to the bus. That's when the tour headed south.

We followed our guide around for an hour and fifteen minutes as he droned on and on, pointing at interesting things but never getting quite close enough to them for our group to take good photos. What this means is that, naturally, I wandered out of earshot to take those good photos and didn't hear much of what was said. That's what Wikipedia's for, anyway, right?

Highlights of that first hour and fifteen minutes include:

El Castillo (Temple of Kukulcán), the dominant structure in the northern sector of this ancient city. During the Spring and Autumn equinoxes, the position of the sun causes a series of shadows on the north side of the pyramid that take on the appearance of a snake slithering down the staircase. Clapping your hands at the base of the pyramid results in an echo that mimics the call of the Quetzl bird, a sacred animal in Mayan culture. Were these things deliberate, or mere coincidence?

Temple de los Guerreros (Temple of the Warriors), named for the rows of pillars displaying relief-carvings of Mayan warriors. Murals reflecting scenes of both war and daily life adorn the walls. Altar-tables and benches in this temple may have served as thrones for dignitaries.

El Gran Juego de Pelota (The Great Ball Court), the largest ball court in Mesoamerica, is formed by a long wall on each side, embedded with rings/hoops and carved images of plumed serpents. The walls are decorated with scenes of the sacrifice of ball players. That's right, folks. This game was a deathmatch.

We were standing at the far end of The Great Ball Court, when our guide suddenly pointed at a structure identified as The Temple of the Bearded Man. He explained that when archaeologists found this temple, they found a carving of a bearded man on the back wall. He presented this as evidence that the Mayans knew of, and worshipped, Jesus Christ. I couldn't tell you how long into the second hour the guided tour continued, because that was the point where I walked away. TJ and about 1/4 of the tour followed suit. Turned out to be a good choice. A) The Mayans worshipped a pantheon of deities. They did not subscribe to a monotheistic, let alone Christian, faith. B) No Google search on my part can find any evidence of this radical statement anywhere beyond what is said on certain Christian websites. C) By breaking away from the group and walking at a brisk pace, we were able to take in a 45 minute viewing of an entire side of the site that our peers missed out on.

El Caracol (The Observatory) got its English name thanks to its shape and some possible astral associations: Astronomical events concerning Venus and the setting of the sun during the equinoxes have been related to the three windows in the upper section. It's Spanish name translates into "conch" in English, and was derived from the spiral stairs that lead to the upper part of the building.

All in all, it was a good day. The guide on our bus was very entertaining. Although the guide at the ruins could have been more informative/engaging and less willing to share his kooky theories on Mayan religion, I wouldn't say that he necessarily detracted from our experience.

Booking this excursion required a strict six hour time commitment, and with a four hour round trip bus ride, this only allowed for two hours of enjoyment on-site. By comparison, our trip to Teotihuacan was free of such restrictions, mainly because we didn't have to worry about catching a boat. But that freedom did make for a more enjoyable day, even if the ruins of Chichen Itza are by far more interesting to look at.

My recommendation to would-be travelers is this: If you find yourself in a situation in which you have flexibility, rent a car or book your own bus ride so that you can enjoy the site at your leisure. If you find yourself needing to catch boat and only have two hours to see it all, book the excursion but ditch the tour guide.

R&R, Part 1: Family Bonding aboard the Carnival Triumph

One benefit of Foreign Service life is that, depending on where you live, you may be entitled to a complimentary R&R (Rest & Recuperation) plane ticket for you and any Eligible Family Members that have accompanied you to post. It’s unpaid time for which you must use your personally accrued vacation allowance, but the plane ticket is free. And coming out of Guadalajara, that’s a sweet deal in and of itself.

When we started planning home leave several months ago, we found ourselves facing a dilemma: Should we go our separate ways to visit our individual families, whom we have not seen in over a year (planning began prior to mom's little medical scare), or just blow them off entirely and take a fun trip together?

We ultimately decided to do both, and planned a two-week vacation that would find us spending a week with my family and a second week adventuring by ourselves. We decided to save TJ’s family for Home Leave, the mandatory one month leave of absence that immediately follows our departure from Guadalajara in late 2012.

For the family portion of the trip, it was absolutely essential that we come up with a solution that allowed us to spend quality time with my parents without having to be in Texas. No offense to my many Texas friends. It's just not my bag, baby.

Having spoken to dad about our cruise in November, it had become clear that he would love to partake in such an adventure one day. The sticking point was my mom, who has an irrational fear of most modes of transportation. This has unfortunately resulted in them not being able to visit us in DC or Guadalajara, both of which are too far to consider driving to. Well, Mexico also has that whole drug violence thing going for it that they can't seem to get past.

Still, it was important for me that my parents visit us in Mexico in some capacity. I also wanted my dad to have his chance to go on a cruise. With these things in mind, TJ and I concocted a tiny white lie in which we told my parents that we had already booked a 5-day Western Caribbean cruise to Progreso and Cozumel for the four of us. After doing the requisite research to determine that we would, in fact, be unable to cancel our phony cruise, mom decided to simply bite her tongue and look forward to it...leaving us free to actually book the cruise.

And, man oh man, am I glad we did.

Mom, despite her fears, arrived in a Dramamine stupor ready to give it her best effort. Dad, the only one of the bunch that can't swim, and therefore the one that should have been afraid, was raring to go. Apparently, it was all he could talk about in the weeks leading up to departure. And TJ and I were just praying for no family squabbles.

They weren't up for excursions, and I can't say as I blame them. We didn't book any for our first cruise, either. And for folks that don't normally take big vacations, getting on a boat in one country and finding yourself in another a couple of days later is adventure enough.

TJ and I had planned a trip to Chichen Itza for our day in Progreso (next time...on Adventures by Aaron!), but the rest of the time was intended for simple, relaxing, family time.

Let me tell you, I am SO proud of my parents. They really let loose and stepped out of their comfort zones on this one.

They became good friends with the casino (not surprising, as they are prone to the occasional weekend gambling getaway), and mom even walked away $1300 richer. But that's not all they did.

They read by the pool. They people watched on deck. They went to the evening shows. They tried new foods, things they never thought they would like, and went back for seconds. They set foot on foreign soil and went shopping like it was no big deal (tip for you hodophobics out there ...it's really not a big deal). They enjoyed themselves so much they said they might even do it again some day.

But most important of all...they got a little tipsy (ok, plastered) and had a real, meaningful conversation with their son and his partner.

Now don't get me wrong, they've known TJ for years. And everyone has always managed to carry on polite conversation. But it felt forced. Perfunctory. And if we're being honest, it's possible that all parties were to blame, myself included.

But sitting there, drinking Greyhounds and Blue Margaritas, listening to a Korean man awkwardly croon out old country-western songs...it felt like everything finally clicked.

I was no longer the son that came out of the closet and turned their world upside down.

They were no longer the parents that I resented for letting the world turn upside down.

TJ was no longer the painful reminder that there would be no daughter-in-law.

We were just...family. I talked about how happy I was to finally be in a position to pay them back, in some small way, for all they had done for me over the years. TJ over-bragged about my contributions at work. Dad told me that he is proud of me. Mom even talked about wanting us to give them grandchildren.

Everyone boarded the boat on April 9th worried about one thing or another, but left the boat five days later looking forward to the next family vacation.

That just goes to show...we all need to get a little liquored up with family every now and again.

St. Kitts

Okay, so if we’ve learned anything over the course of my last three blogs, it’s that getting off of a cruise ship and seeking your own adventure can be hit or miss.

If St. Maarten was a 1st Down, and St. Lucia was a fumble, then St. Kitts was our shot at a touchdown. Ooh, look at me and my macho baseball metaphors. Wait. What?

Anyway, we wanted to make sure that we had a good time on our last port day, so we finally bit the bullet and booked an excursion through Carnival. I’m only somewhat ashamed to admit that it ended up being the best of the bunch. Yeah, I know. Figures, right?

We booked what is called the “Sail & Snorkel Adventure,” which was described as follows:

Board your catamaran and sail the crystal clear waters to Shittens Bay (please, people, refrain from potty humor) for a rewarding snorkeling experience.

On this excursion you will:

• Watch the sails unfurl as your leisurely cruise proceeds along the Leeward Coast of St. Kitts, passing the Frigate Bay resort area and Friars Bay before arriving at your snorkeling destination.


• Discover Shittens Bay (hard, isn't it?), a secluded and unspoiled cove accessible only by sea. This is home to an abundance of marine life with several varieties of reef fish and beautiful coral formations.


• Snorkel, swim, or relax onboard your spacious catamaran. Novice snorkelers will be offered special assistance.


• During your return sail enjoy rum punch, sodas, beer and other beverages as you relax and admire the scenery as it passes by.

The evening prior to our departure, we were less than overjoyed to hear (from several sources) that a group had set sail on a snorkeling excursion out of St. Lucia earlier that day on a boat that was poorly maintained. I believe the phrase “missing one of its motors” was tossed around. They were later horrified when a motorboat was allowed to pass through their snorkel zone…while they were in the water. They probably Shitten the Bay (hey, I never said *I* would refrain from potty humor) at that point. Worst of all, this excursion had been booked through Carnival. Yeah, and we thought we had problems in St. Lucia.

This didn’t fill us with confidence, but what the hell, we decided to do it anyway. And we are so glad we did. It was our first experience in a catamaran, and it zipped through the bay at speeds that were simultaneously exhilarating and relaxing. The scenery was gorgeous. We saw some coral and a few fishes.

We snorkeled for the first time ever. It’s quite awkward at first, but a cakewalk once you allow yourself the time to adjust to your surroundings. It’s ridiculous, because you’re wearing a life jacket, but when you jump off the boat, your goggles and snorkel fill up with salt water, and you do experience a temporary, intense, irrational fear of drowning.

Or maybe that’s just me. I didn’t learn to swim until I was almost 10 years old, and only after two very real near-drowning episodes.

Of course, as it turns out, I wasn’t the only one with an irrational fear of drowning. Once TJ and I had made the leap and adjusted to our environment, we turned to find Antonio clinging to the ladder. Lacking the nerve for the jump, he had opted to take the stepladder approach to snorkeling. Unfortunately, he found himself unwilling to let go and just…float. After dragging him off the ladder, I managed to pull him just past arm’s reach of the boat before he decided he just wanted to sit this one out. It was disappointing. I wish he could have enjoyed the experience more. This had been a mutually agreed upon excursion, after all. On the bright side, we were able to get this photo out of the deal:

Note to self: Buy a waterproof camera for next time!

The ride back to port was a relaxing one filled with pleasant conversation, so-so Rum Punch, and tasty local beer. Everything the descriptions said it would be.

We stopped at a local joint for some Conch Fritters with some of our snorkel buddies before heading back to the boat. But not before doing the one thing Cruise Director Malcolm advised against:

Paying strangers to take pictures of us with monkeys!