Turns out I didn’t need to be on the look-out for Hot Serbian Crew Members, because Kristen found one FOR me! She went to the fancy dinner place for a press dinner thing and met Alex, the Hot Serbian Waiter. Every crew member has what country they’re from on their nametag and my favorite part of the cruise so far has been looking at all the different places (which mostly means I stare at everyone’s chest. Oh well). Alex’s nametag said “Bosnia” and Kristen, being the good sister she is, said “You’re from Bosnia?” to which Alex the Hot Serbian Waiter said he was, and Kristen said that her sister is moving to Serbia. Alex the Hot Serbian Waiter said that he is, in fact, Serbian (because I don’t think you can be Bosnian… I think people in Bosnia are either Serbian or Croatian… or Muslim, which is also not an ethnicity… the whole situation is very confusing). ANYWAY, Kristen and Alex the Hot Serbian Waiter start talking about Serbia (people in Serbia like anchovies and don’t like decaf) and me (I was downstairs LEARNING SERBIAN right then) and how Serbian is a freaking hard language to learn (it is). I guess the conversation was going well because he said that she should bring me by tomorrow to meet him, learn Serbian, and make out. Kristen might have inferred the making out part, but she said he was really hot, so I was prepared to do what I had to do to make Serbian friends. They agreed that we would meet him the next day at the fancy resturaunt at 10:30 or 11:00.
Well, Alex the Hot Serbian Waiter turned out to be a Hot Serbian Liar. We went to the fancy resturaunt at 10:30-ish and he wasn’t there, and the lady we asked about him gave us a dirty look. We were pretty bummed, but then we got more soft serve and felt better.
Yesterday in Grand Turk Kristen saw him getting off the boat and pointed him out. We scowled at him for a while and thought about accosting him, but I didn’t think he was actually very attractive. I mean, I still would have made out with him, especially if he knows people in Belgrade, but he was nothing to cry over.
Today we went to Half Moon Cay and I was on the beach for a while by myself (ask Kristen how her day was!). I was sitting there and a crew member was walking around selling drinks. I stared at her nametag (chest) as I tend to, and she was from SERBIA! I told her I’m moving there in August and she was VERY excited. I showed her my Serbian flashcards and my book about Bosnia I’m reading. She is from Novi Sad, a smaller city in the north, but is fairly familiar with Belgrade. Actually, she said that people in Novi Sad are really nice, and that it is a beautiful city, and not too big. She didn’t have much nice to say about Belgrade, but she DID give me her phone number and say she would take me out! If Alex the Not-Actually-That-Hot Waiter is any indication she might be lying about wanting to take me out, but I don’t care. Her name is Svetlana and she is my first Serbian friend and I love her.
Oh, in Non-Serbian news, everything is fine. I'm wearing a lot of sunscreen (mom) and most certainly not making out with eastern European crew members. Not even the super hot Ukranian one. In fact, I keep having to fight Kristen on going to the "Singles Meet and Greet" events. I don't know why she wants me to go so badly. In fact, I'm not sure why ANYONE would want to go. Those kinds of things sound awful, ESPECIALLY with this crowd. "You enjoy exploiting natives and destroying the environmennt?? ME TOO!! Let's go drink Bahama Mamas on the Adults Only deck!" No thanks. I'll just hang out with Svetlana.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Just a just a just a just a just a just a just a little bit
All of the free cold drinks on the boat—and that only includes water, iced tea and lemonade—are served in these leeetle plastic cups. They’re very brightly colored. Maggie observed that they made her feel like she was in a daycare, and she’s not far off.
I realized yesterday that a cruise essentially encourages the infantiliziation of its passengers. Everyone on board can act like children most of the time. You want two cheeseburgers for a snack? Great! Three pieces of cake for dinner, chased by a bowl of soft-serve ice cream topped with mini M&Ms? Knock yourself out! No one chastises you if you order too much and then don’t finish it. You can go the entire trip and not see a vegetable, if you like. And there’s no such thing as money, so don’t worry about how much it costs!
It goes beyond food, though. Nearly every time we step out of the cabin, our steward sneaks in and cleans stuff up! It’s like the Room Fairy my mom swore did NOT live in our house. And everything on the ship is focused on our amusement. It’s like Carnival is afraid we’re going to throw a tantrum if we’re left to our own devices.
And maybe we are. I saw a passenger bitch at some worker because the cruise ship-shaped inflatable pool toy the passenger bought his son was broken.
Maybe some people want this on their vacations—actually, there’s no maybe about it. I’m on a boat with over 2,000 people who want to spend their vacation like this. And that’s their right, and I can see the appeal. You literally have to worry about NOTHING. Everything is taken care of. You can wander around the ship, free ice cream in hand, for hours. You don’t have to be anywhere. You don’t have to do anything. And the staff is really, really good at making you feel important.
But everything that I like about travel is impossible to find here. I like to experience new cultures—it’s nearly impossible. We stopped on Grand Turk in Turks and Caicos yesterday and it’s like the entire island is conspiring to keep you on this small plot of land set aside for cruises. There are restaurants (Margaritaville and the like) and shops and a beach and a pool (people got off a boat with a pool. To go to a DIFFERENT pool.) You could take a cab into Cockburn Town (and we did), but, like they say, there’s no there there. The rest of the island is (deliberately?) discouraging to tourists. We did eat at a local place, though. So that helped.
I also like to try different food. The food here is actually better than I expected, but adventuresome it’s not. And it’s tough to talk to the crew members (the vast, VAST majority are not American) because, well, they’re working. They probably don’t want to chat about what’s going on in Belarus or Indonesia.
So the very reasons I travel simply don’t exist on a cruise. They’ve been replaced with 24-hour pizza and family karaoke hour. That doesn’t mean that cruising is bad or wrong—but it’s certainly wrong for me.
Not like I’m somehow above the cruise culture. Yesterday for snack I ate two hot dogs, French fries and ice cream. And we DID go to family karaoke, only because Jack likes music and clapping, so we thought he’d enjoy it (he did. Maggie and I spent the time wondering how this 8-year-old boy knew “Beat It.”)
Hee. And about family karaoke (we didn’t sing.) There was one girl who was, I don’t know, ten? And she wanted to sing “Respect.” You could kind of see the (packed) room was hoping she’d be some Susan Boyle-esque prodigy, but it turns out she didn’t really know the tune. So she just read the lyrics. It was a like a bizarre poetry slam. Just picture it (remember, ten-year-old girl. Kind of pudgy. Also white, if that helps.)
I’m about to give you
All my money
And all I’m asking
In return, honey
Is to give me
My profits
When you come home.
Picture that read in a monotone, with perfect diction. Awesome, isn’t it? It gets even better when she gets to “re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-spect.”
I realized yesterday that a cruise essentially encourages the infantiliziation of its passengers. Everyone on board can act like children most of the time. You want two cheeseburgers for a snack? Great! Three pieces of cake for dinner, chased by a bowl of soft-serve ice cream topped with mini M&Ms? Knock yourself out! No one chastises you if you order too much and then don’t finish it. You can go the entire trip and not see a vegetable, if you like. And there’s no such thing as money, so don’t worry about how much it costs!
It goes beyond food, though. Nearly every time we step out of the cabin, our steward sneaks in and cleans stuff up! It’s like the Room Fairy my mom swore did NOT live in our house. And everything on the ship is focused on our amusement. It’s like Carnival is afraid we’re going to throw a tantrum if we’re left to our own devices.
And maybe we are. I saw a passenger bitch at some worker because the cruise ship-shaped inflatable pool toy the passenger bought his son was broken.
Maybe some people want this on their vacations—actually, there’s no maybe about it. I’m on a boat with over 2,000 people who want to spend their vacation like this. And that’s their right, and I can see the appeal. You literally have to worry about NOTHING. Everything is taken care of. You can wander around the ship, free ice cream in hand, for hours. You don’t have to be anywhere. You don’t have to do anything. And the staff is really, really good at making you feel important.
But everything that I like about travel is impossible to find here. I like to experience new cultures—it’s nearly impossible. We stopped on Grand Turk in Turks and Caicos yesterday and it’s like the entire island is conspiring to keep you on this small plot of land set aside for cruises. There are restaurants (Margaritaville and the like) and shops and a beach and a pool (people got off a boat with a pool. To go to a DIFFERENT pool.) You could take a cab into Cockburn Town (and we did), but, like they say, there’s no there there. The rest of the island is (deliberately?) discouraging to tourists. We did eat at a local place, though. So that helped.
I also like to try different food. The food here is actually better than I expected, but adventuresome it’s not. And it’s tough to talk to the crew members (the vast, VAST majority are not American) because, well, they’re working. They probably don’t want to chat about what’s going on in Belarus or Indonesia.
So the very reasons I travel simply don’t exist on a cruise. They’ve been replaced with 24-hour pizza and family karaoke hour. That doesn’t mean that cruising is bad or wrong—but it’s certainly wrong for me.
Not like I’m somehow above the cruise culture. Yesterday for snack I ate two hot dogs, French fries and ice cream. And we DID go to family karaoke, only because Jack likes music and clapping, so we thought he’d enjoy it (he did. Maggie and I spent the time wondering how this 8-year-old boy knew “Beat It.”)
Hee. And about family karaoke (we didn’t sing.) There was one girl who was, I don’t know, ten? And she wanted to sing “Respect.” You could kind of see the (packed) room was hoping she’d be some Susan Boyle-esque prodigy, but it turns out she didn’t really know the tune. So she just read the lyrics. It was a like a bizarre poetry slam. Just picture it (remember, ten-year-old girl. Kind of pudgy. Also white, if that helps.)
I’m about to give you
All my money
And all I’m asking
In return, honey
Is to give me
My profits
When you come home.
Picture that read in a monotone, with perfect diction. Awesome, isn’t it? It gets even better when she gets to “re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-spect.”
Sunday, May 24, 2009
I'M ON A BOAT
Go to youtube.com and search “SNL On a Boat” and watch the video that comes up. That’s the song that’s been in my head since yesterday, and I want it to be in your head, too.
So far the cruise is pretty cool. I got a head start on the sunburn by getting burnt yesterday morning at the farmer’s market, so that is going well. Also, I spent the 4 days before we left for the cruise in Colorado at Rocky Mountain Mennonite Camp at a retreat for my volunteer program. Rocky Mountain Mennonite Camp is at an elevation of over 9,000 feet, so I spent the better part of the week feeling woozy with altitude sickness. Now we’re about 5 stories above sea level and moving, so I’m feeling woozy with sea sickness. That made for a nice transition.
The highlight for me has been the 24-hour free frozen yogurt (chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, with sprinkles, m&ms, cookies, and other toppings!) and staring at the crew members’ nametags to see what country they’re from. The majority seem to be from the Philippines, but many, many countries are represented. My personal mission is to find one from Serbia (though I will also accept, in order of preference, people from Montenegro, Bosnia, Macedonia, or Croatia). I spent this morning on the deck reading my “Teach Yourself Serbian” book hoping to attract a handsome Serbian crew member. None so far, but we have 5 days left.
So far the cruise is pretty cool. I got a head start on the sunburn by getting burnt yesterday morning at the farmer’s market, so that is going well. Also, I spent the 4 days before we left for the cruise in Colorado at Rocky Mountain Mennonite Camp at a retreat for my volunteer program. Rocky Mountain Mennonite Camp is at an elevation of over 9,000 feet, so I spent the better part of the week feeling woozy with altitude sickness. Now we’re about 5 stories above sea level and moving, so I’m feeling woozy with sea sickness. That made for a nice transition.
The highlight for me has been the 24-hour free frozen yogurt (chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, with sprinkles, m&ms, cookies, and other toppings!) and staring at the crew members’ nametags to see what country they’re from. The majority seem to be from the Philippines, but many, many countries are represented. My personal mission is to find one from Serbia (though I will also accept, in order of preference, people from Montenegro, Bosnia, Macedonia, or Croatia). I spent this morning on the deck reading my “Teach Yourself Serbian” book hoping to attract a handsome Serbian crew member. None so far, but we have 5 days left.
Get me THE HELL OFF THIS BOAT
I fear for the weight limit every time I step on an elevator.
I am very, very acutely aware I am on a boat, because boats move and everyone who said, “Oh, you won’t even feel it moving!” is a fucking liar.
The room is, though, really nice. I would die without the balcony.
Everyone on staff is relentlessly friendly in a way that would annoy me if they weren’t also so damn helpful.
Since we’re trapped in the room starting at about 8pm every night, thanks to Jack’s bedtime, we have been given ample opportunity to check out the ship’s TV. As Maggie succinctly put it, “There are eight channels and four of them ARE ABOUT THE SHIP.” She’s not really exaggerating. There’s the show about the lifeboat drill, the Lido Deck camera, the camera that looks out to the side of the ship (also known as All Ocean All the Time), the shopping channel, the casino channel…it’s insane. They did show Get Smart, which I watched because Jack got us all up before breakfast was even served. It was pretty good.
Cruising with a baby is a horrible idea. You can’t drop him off anywhere—the Camp Carnival is only for kids 2 and up. You can’t take him swimming (our planned major activity) because kids in diapers aren’t allowed in the pools. There is lots to do on the ship, very little of which is baby-friendly and most of which costs extra.
And at 9:15 this morning Maggie and I realized we had 48 hours before we can get off the ship.
We’ve decided to switch off naptimes; she’s off somewhere right now while I’m on the balcony and Jack naps. I should nap, too, since sleeping in the same room as Jack means I wake up every time he moves. He also regaled the entire room with a fascinating narrative consisting of “Gah gah DAH DAH murphgah” at around 1 in the morning.
But the ocean that’s swimming by is turning a brighter shade of blue and I can no longer see the coast—which has never happened to me before. We’re at sea and headed south.
I am very, very acutely aware I am on a boat, because boats move and everyone who said, “Oh, you won’t even feel it moving!” is a fucking liar.
The room is, though, really nice. I would die without the balcony.
Everyone on staff is relentlessly friendly in a way that would annoy me if they weren’t also so damn helpful.
Since we’re trapped in the room starting at about 8pm every night, thanks to Jack’s bedtime, we have been given ample opportunity to check out the ship’s TV. As Maggie succinctly put it, “There are eight channels and four of them ARE ABOUT THE SHIP.” She’s not really exaggerating. There’s the show about the lifeboat drill, the Lido Deck camera, the camera that looks out to the side of the ship (also known as All Ocean All the Time), the shopping channel, the casino channel…it’s insane. They did show Get Smart, which I watched because Jack got us all up before breakfast was even served. It was pretty good.
Cruising with a baby is a horrible idea. You can’t drop him off anywhere—the Camp Carnival is only for kids 2 and up. You can’t take him swimming (our planned major activity) because kids in diapers aren’t allowed in the pools. There is lots to do on the ship, very little of which is baby-friendly and most of which costs extra.
And at 9:15 this morning Maggie and I realized we had 48 hours before we can get off the ship.
We’ve decided to switch off naptimes; she’s off somewhere right now while I’m on the balcony and Jack naps. I should nap, too, since sleeping in the same room as Jack means I wake up every time he moves. He also regaled the entire room with a fascinating narrative consisting of “Gah gah DAH DAH murphgah” at around 1 in the morning.
But the ocean that’s swimming by is turning a brighter shade of blue and I can no longer see the coast—which has never happened to me before. We’re at sea and headed south.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Packing it In.
I am a good packer for vacations. Mostly because, when I was younger, my mom believed early on that every kid carried her own bag. Whenever I take a trip on an airplane I have to decide between wearing my Frye boots (which are a pain to take off at security, especially if you have a laptop and a laptop bag and a baby and a stroller and a diaper bag and a jacket, all of which have to be placed into their own little tray. Except for the baby.) and packing my Frye boots, which take up approximately 1/6 of my suitcase and immediately make it weigh 400 pounds.
Leaving the Frye boots at home is not an option, so don't even suggest it.
So packing for this cruise is a little easier because you never have to pick up your bags! Isn't that awesome? Aside from all the environmental/cultural objections I have to cruising, the fact that I don't have to share a bag with Jack AND I can bring as many shoes as I want might make this my new favorite way to travel.
Also, babies need a lot of stuff. Not as much as people might THINK they need. For example, I was at Target yesterday, and they're selling this portable highchair thing. Picture a slipcover one might use for a dining room chair--a pocket of cloth that goes over the back of a dining chair. But it has straps so you can buckle your kid to a chair. For a second I thought that was REALLY cool. If you went to a restaurant that didn't have a highchair, this would be great. Then I realized that a) almost every restaurant on the planet has highchairs, b) there's no way that thing works with every chair on the planet and c) I could, in fact, just save my $20 and HOLD Jack should we eat at a place with no highchairs.
But even for an anti-stuff zealot, Jack's bag is going to be pretty full. In addition to a week's worth of diapers and wipes (I don't even want to know what they charge for those things onboard the ship) and enough clothes that he can poop copiously and still arrive back in Baltimore with at least one clean outfit, there are the swim diapers (required in the ship's pool), the bibs, the pack-n-play (when the PR guy tells you not to use the cribs on the ship, you listen), Denver the Blanket/Horse, his swimsuit and swimshirt, his sunblock, his hat with a chinstrap since he won't leave a hat on his head for more than four seconds, a few toys so he doesn't destroy the entire cabin, baby Tylenol (just in case), Orajel (just in case), sippy cups, crackers for when we're in port and he starts fussing...there's a LOT of stuff. We're not bringing any baby food since he can pretty much eat all table food by now, so that helps. I'm wondering if I should bring some Cheerios or if they'll have Cheerios onboard. Should I bring a ziploc baggie so I can put Cheerios in it? I am never without a ziploc baggie of Cheerios.
I've made a list and it is LONG. And it includes odd things like "notarized letter," since everyone seems to think I needed proof that I wasn't kidnapping Jack.
I'm pretty sure I won't be able to relax until we're well at sea.
Leaving the Frye boots at home is not an option, so don't even suggest it.
So packing for this cruise is a little easier because you never have to pick up your bags! Isn't that awesome? Aside from all the environmental/cultural objections I have to cruising, the fact that I don't have to share a bag with Jack AND I can bring as many shoes as I want might make this my new favorite way to travel.
Also, babies need a lot of stuff. Not as much as people might THINK they need. For example, I was at Target yesterday, and they're selling this portable highchair thing. Picture a slipcover one might use for a dining room chair--a pocket of cloth that goes over the back of a dining chair. But it has straps so you can buckle your kid to a chair. For a second I thought that was REALLY cool. If you went to a restaurant that didn't have a highchair, this would be great. Then I realized that a) almost every restaurant on the planet has highchairs, b) there's no way that thing works with every chair on the planet and c) I could, in fact, just save my $20 and HOLD Jack should we eat at a place with no highchairs.
But even for an anti-stuff zealot, Jack's bag is going to be pretty full. In addition to a week's worth of diapers and wipes (I don't even want to know what they charge for those things onboard the ship) and enough clothes that he can poop copiously and still arrive back in Baltimore with at least one clean outfit, there are the swim diapers (required in the ship's pool), the bibs, the pack-n-play (when the PR guy tells you not to use the cribs on the ship, you listen), Denver the Blanket/Horse, his swimsuit and swimshirt, his sunblock, his hat with a chinstrap since he won't leave a hat on his head for more than four seconds, a few toys so he doesn't destroy the entire cabin, baby Tylenol (just in case), Orajel (just in case), sippy cups, crackers for when we're in port and he starts fussing...there's a LOT of stuff. We're not bringing any baby food since he can pretty much eat all table food by now, so that helps. I'm wondering if I should bring some Cheerios or if they'll have Cheerios onboard. Should I bring a ziploc baggie so I can put Cheerios in it? I am never without a ziploc baggie of Cheerios.
I've made a list and it is LONG. And it includes odd things like "notarized letter," since everyone seems to think I needed proof that I wasn't kidnapping Jack.
I'm pretty sure I won't be able to relax until we're well at sea.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Class is in Session.
My coworker Jeanne is a big cruiser. She's been on them lots of times, so she's been very helpful as Maggie and I take this vacation that neither of us ever anticipated. Yesterday Jeanne talked about the onboard activities that Carnival offers on its Fun Days at Sea. They always say it that way, with that capitalization. Fun Day at Sea. It strikes me as vaguely ominous.
Maggie and I planned to spend our Fun Day at Sea eating and sitting by the pool and preventing Jack from plunging overboard. But Jeanne says there are activities.
I don't really know about Maggie, but I'm not an activity person. I don't bond quickly with other people. Once, in high school, I went to a weekend conference for student leaders (I know. NEEERRRRRRD!) It was from Friday to Sunday, I believe. Not only did it involve activities, it involved coordinated, cultlike cheers. It was lame. But by Sunday night, when it was time to go, people everywhere were weeping and exchange addresses (real addresses, since email wasn't common yet). I was in the car, desperate to go home and scrub the forced cheerfulness away.
So I was all set to mock all the classes Jeanne told me about. Now, I love Jeanne (hi, Jeanne!), but Jeanne is an activity person; I am not. So when Jeanne told me she went to the towel-folding class to learn how to fold towels into various animal shapes (no, really. Really.) I made fun of her. To her face. Because I'm professional like that.
I mentioned the class to Maggie in an email. Rather than mocking Jeanne with me, Maggie informed me that she would be attending the towel-folding class. Because that's a skill that will last you a lifetime. So I told Jamie, our other sister, that Maggie would be attending the towel-folding class. Jamie didn't mock. Jamie wanted to know if Maggie would photocopy the instructions so that she could fold towels into animal shapes.
When I visit Jamie in Texas, all I know is that my towels better be folded into whimsical shapes.
Maggie and I planned to spend our Fun Day at Sea eating and sitting by the pool and preventing Jack from plunging overboard. But Jeanne says there are activities.
I don't really know about Maggie, but I'm not an activity person. I don't bond quickly with other people. Once, in high school, I went to a weekend conference for student leaders (I know. NEEERRRRRRD!) It was from Friday to Sunday, I believe. Not only did it involve activities, it involved coordinated, cultlike cheers. It was lame. But by Sunday night, when it was time to go, people everywhere were weeping and exchange addresses (real addresses, since email wasn't common yet). I was in the car, desperate to go home and scrub the forced cheerfulness away.
So I was all set to mock all the classes Jeanne told me about. Now, I love Jeanne (hi, Jeanne!), but Jeanne is an activity person; I am not. So when Jeanne told me she went to the towel-folding class to learn how to fold towels into various animal shapes (no, really. Really.) I made fun of her. To her face. Because I'm professional like that.
I mentioned the class to Maggie in an email. Rather than mocking Jeanne with me, Maggie informed me that she would be attending the towel-folding class. Because that's a skill that will last you a lifetime. So I told Jamie, our other sister, that Maggie would be attending the towel-folding class. Jamie didn't mock. Jamie wanted to know if Maggie would photocopy the instructions so that she could fold towels into animal shapes.
When I visit Jamie in Texas, all I know is that my towels better be folded into whimsical shapes.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
What we leave behind.
Kristen's never been on a press trip, but that's nothing- I've never even been INVITED on a press trip. This is going to be awesome.
Here is a list I have been making of things that I encounter weekly in Baltimore at home or at work than I do not anticipate having to see on the cruise:
-Cockroaches the size of small cats
-Rats the size of large dogs
-Intoxicated homeless men trying to hit on and/or hit me (I work at a homeless shelter)
-Used condoms and syringes in my yard and driveway
-The intern at work who always un-alphabetizes the mail
-6 refugees, 4 renters, and 4 other volunteers (my housemates) using the kitchen/bathroom/TV ONLY the times I want to be using the kitchen/bathroom/TV
There are more, I'm sure. Don't get me wrong, I know that there are things I will have to deal with on the cruise, like open sores in my mouth from eating too much pineapple, and the inevitable 3rd degree sunburn... but I'm still pretty excited.
Here is a list I have been making of things that I encounter weekly in Baltimore at home or at work than I do not anticipate having to see on the cruise:
-Cockroaches the size of small cats
-Rats the size of large dogs
-Intoxicated homeless men trying to hit on and/or hit me (I work at a homeless shelter)
-Used condoms and syringes in my yard and driveway
-The intern at work who always un-alphabetizes the mail
-6 refugees, 4 renters, and 4 other volunteers (my housemates) using the kitchen/bathroom/TV ONLY the times I want to be using the kitchen/bathroom/TV
There are more, I'm sure. Don't get me wrong, I know that there are things I will have to deal with on the cruise, like open sores in my mouth from eating too much pineapple, and the inevitable 3rd degree sunburn... but I'm still pretty excited.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
First Post.
I've never been able to accept a press trip. Either ethical guidelines prohibited it or it was some trip I'd never write about. Until now. I got a free press trip on the Carnival Pride--a 7-day Caribbean cruise. I'm taking my 23-year-old sister and my 10-month-old son.
Read about our adventures here.
Read about our adventures here.
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