Adventure of the month

Back when I began this blog in 2007, one of my first ever posts was about St. Thomas .  More specifically, it was about how badly St. Thomas sucked because of all those annoying cruise ship passengers.  Now, eight year later,  I was one of them, although as the only ship in town on this particular day, I prefer to think we were more of a benign nuisance. First time around, I was able to escape the circus by taking a ferry over to St. John's but with limited time, this was no longer an option.  This was also our last port of call so if there was ever a time to adopt the "if you can't beat 'em..." philosophy, this was it. We were initially signed up for an island tour with a well regarded guide that promised an informative drive around the island with stops at both scenic and historical sites.  Due to an snafu with our guy's PA equipment, we now found ourselves with the other island guide, the one known as the "party guide" .  His tours are less ...

Our fourth stop, St. Martin, presented a question that I can only assume most people are not faced with on a regular basis.  Did we want to go to the naked beach or to the airplane beach?  Undoubtedly, there are other things to do on this half French, half Dutch island but with no tour guide, very little research and a rental car, those were the only real options available to us. We had maps, brochures, phone apps all within our disposal but try as we might, there were no museums, forts, historical sights or even largest balls of twine-type exhibits for us to visit.  Not even trying to crib from the ship's own excursions booklet was of any help. In hopes of stumbling onto something, we played around with the car's pre-programmed GPS with its long list of other beaches we could choose from.  We picked one at random, pulled in and saw that it was indeed a beach. Sand, water: check.  One empty restaurant with a bored looking waitress: check.

Antigua: One half of the Caribbean island nation Antigua and Barbuda. Known as Waladii by the native population. Gained its independence from the British in 1981. Vacation home to Oprah Winfrey, Richard Branson and Eric Clapton (who has both a massive home and a rehab facility on site). Home to an alleged 365 beaches, a number that just happens to coincide with the marketing slogan "A beach for every day of the year". Pronounced An-tee-ga. But most importantly: my 97th country. Antiguo:  (Spanish) Ancient.  Archaic. Antiquated. Prehistoric.  Elderly.  Old as dirt. What's happens when you celebrate a good friend's 50th birthday there?  You have an Antiguo en Antigua.  This was the theme for our third port of call.

Yesterday morning, I got off of a one week Southern Caribbean cruise on the Celebrity Summit. By myself. This was not the original plan. I was supposed to be on the ship celebrating a one year anniversary with a man I loved very much. Unfortunately, two weeks before we set sail, he decided that he did not feel the same way and announced that he would not be joining me on this or any of our other scheduled (and paid for) vacations. Why he could not hang in there one more month and at least enjoy the gourmet food and chill ports of call is both beyond me and a topic for another type of blog. The only reason I am deviating from the norm and discussing my personal life here is because throughout this and the next couple of posts, I will be addressing the surreal experience that is cruising single. As a newbie cruiser, I had no notion of how couple-y an environment a cruise ship truly is.  I had been on one cruise, with a boyfriend, but the median age on that ship had been Jura...