Tuesday, January 19, 2010

El Honeymoon-o

So, The Man and I honeymooned in beautiful Puerto Rico. It's been awhile, since we will celebrate (and by celebrate I mean go out to dinner while wishing we were jetting off to Vegas) our 7th anniversary this May. Yet it seems like just yesterday we were merrily cavorting on the beach that posted "DANGER! Deadly rip currents" signs- unfortunately they were in Spanish, which neither of us speak, nor read. (Luckily some friendly Puerto Ricans came running up and we played a fun game of charades long enough to determine The Man should probably take his boogie board elsewhere or, well, drown.)

Our Awesome Honeymoon Adventures followed on the heels of my Big Fat Food Poisoned Wedding (which is a whole 'nuther blog my friends, as well as some large therapy bills). Yes, I had food poisoning. On. My. Wedding. Day. I'm not talking "oh I'm feeling a bit icky, who has some pepto?" I'm talking "Grab my veil and get me a trash can because I'm puking, right now. Again." All. Day. Long. Wedding food looked lovely - never tasted it. Champagne my dad insisted on buying from Spain? (He was busy boycotting France at the time. Don't ask.) Never sipped it. I made many a toast with Gatorade. So. Yeah.

Aaaaanyyyway.....one upside to missing our flight the next morning due to Continued Projectile Vomiting is that the nice clerk at the air port changed our flight, no charge, and we booked an extra two days in the sun. Sweet!

Being that The Man is a crazy adventure tourist from hell (I say this lovingly), I am pretty sure we covered every square inch of that island. One day, we decided to take a ferry to Flamenco Beach. It's consistently rated as one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. Picture? Sure.

It's not MY picture, but it might as well be. That's what it looked like in all the pictures I DID take. (Which are not on a digital camera and I don't have a scanner, etc etc blah blah blah.) It's gorgeousness. It also did NOT have deadly rip tides, so big plus there.

Now, as a back story, I will tell you that since The Man is military, we stayed on bases in their lodging (basically like hotels - and even one small house) and various military folk had told us, "go where you want, but stay away from Vieques." They had been advised to warn all tourists about some sort of conflict going on between Vieques islanders and the US military; something to do with the Navy pulling out and job loss, if I remember correctly. (Which, obviously, I might not.) Basically, Vieques inhabitants were VERY UNHAPPY with Americans. Which we are. Okay.

Got it, no Vieques - not in the travel plans. Right? Riiiiight. *wink wink* heh, heh.

After enjoying a lovely day hanging out on Flamenco Beach, and chilling with a few other American couples on vacation, we headed for the final ferry ride of the day. We graciously let the other couples take the ferry already leaving the dock. The Man was drinking a cervesa (beer - which I learned that day) and we wouldn't mind waiting the 15 minutes until the last ferry arrived. When it came, we boarded a mostly full ferry; a bunch of locals leaving Flamenco Beach for the day and us, plus a whoooooole bunch of locals already on board.

We sat quietly, feeling slighly pale in comparison. Okay, I felt pale, after a few days in the flipping equatorial sun, The Man looked Puerto Rican himself. It was a weird mood on the ferry, not a lot of talking or laughing or anything. Sort of tense really. Hmmmmm.

The ferry boat captain came on the intercom and announced that since it was the last ferry of the day, they'd be stopping first before reaching the mainland. Stopping at....you guessed it, Vieques! WHAT. Yeah. Cue the eye contact and simultaneous 'shit' reaction from Our Golden Newlyweds.

Well, we would just mind our own and be on our way and all that and they were just people going home from work and, and I'm SURE it will be FINE. Oh, well there WAS the group behind us starting to get sort of...animated. They'd laugh and then nudge each other. The Man mentioned one of them was wearing a knife... Huh? What? They sort of nodded and smiled at us. Okay.

Then, I very clearly heard two words in Spanish that I DID recognize! The first word was "Americano". Check. American. Got it. We're the only ones on the boat, yup, mmm hmmmmm. The SECOND (and very important) word I heard in the rapid sequence was "muerte". Wait. What? Oh, okay, yeah, he just used the word for fucking DEAD. In the same sentence with the word 'American' all while laughing and nudging and yeah the KNIFE wearing.... And sitting next to us and smiling and pointing every so often. Shit.

I looked at the open ocean to my left. Yup. NOT a good swimmer, pretty far away and with a STAB WOUND probably wouldn't get far.... So, I quietly poked The Man. He had already caught the very-less-than-welcoming vibe of the Willy Wonka Ferry from Hell ride.

Me : "So hey, I think that guy just said dead American or something"
TM : "Are you serious?"
ME: "Yeah. I mean, I took French in school but I read a lot. Yeah. Wait, don't LOOK at them for God's sake!"
TM: "I think I can get to the fire extinguisher in time."
Me: "What??? What the fuck is THAT going to do? FIRE is not our immediate problem!"
TM: "No, I'll hit the knife guy in the face with it."
Me: "Oh, okay, well I'll run for that one guard up there if shit goes down."
TM: "Fucking Vieques. How did we end up on this ferry?"
Me: "Our good karma...."

Slowly, slowly we chugged along, all the while pretending everything was just fiiiiine and we weren't worried about a random act of shanking from the group of lovelies behind us. I could see The Man was braced for action as we reached the dock at Vieques. (I hasten to add that The Man is very competent in If Shit Goes Down situations, so at least I knew he'd buy me time to find a Plan B, or jump in the ocean.)

Luckily, as soon as we hit the dock, a large group of 20 or so armed police got on the ferry to return to the mainland and everyone ELSE, including our new group of BFFs, departed. I have never been so happy to see riot-gear clad Policia in my life! The return trip was uneventful, and we were glad to see Vieques disappear in the churning water at the rear of the boat.

Mental note: learn to speak fluent Spanish.

Comments, questions, where did you honeymoon?