CAUTION!

For quite some time now, I have gotten a sick sense of pleasure out of providing my own narrative to caution signs.  I don't know when it started, exactly, but I think it was some time in college.  Regardless, there is something about the necessary vagueness of said caution signs that makes them particularly vulnerable to manipulation, on varying degrees.  Here are some of the winners I have selected, and opted to share with you, my glorious audience.  Feel free to comment or message me with your own interpretations of these -or other- gems.

Category 1: Generic Caution Signs

Ummm, ok.  Is this addressing immigration?  Kidnapping, perhaps?  Marathon runners?  It's a little unclear to me, so I investigated and this is just your run of the mill pedestrian crossing sign.  Except it's on steroids.  These pedestrians GOT PLACES TO BE.  Barefoot, might I add.  Can I also ask why their fearless leader is looking AT THE GROUND?  When has that ever resulted in a high amount of success crossing the street?  The perk to this sign is that the persons included are wearing clothes.  I give it a 3/10.

Again, I will award bonus points for the clothing aspect of this sign, and I will admit it is a step up (see 

Our Jamaican Honeymoon Adventure - Day 10 [THE FINALE!]

August 27th, day 10

Yes, avid readers, today marks the culmination of our honeymoon adventure, so it may be a little long and detailed, as this is the last thread to which I am clinging of honeymoon memories!  :(

We woke up early-ish (for us, I guess) and conversed with one of the breakfast waitstaff that we had spoken with the other day.  His name was Carlton.

No, not that Carlton.  Although this particular waiter was slightly awkward with his social skills as well.  He was such a nice guy, though, and chatted with Andrew and I for quite a while.  After Carlton left, Milton was walking by, so we chit-chatted for a bit and mentioned that we would likely be seeing him at the Repeaters Dinner this evening.

Now, if you have been a true friend and have been following my honeymoon blog with rapt attention, you will notice that I have mentioned this Repeaters Dinner at least three or four times now.  First, we RSVPed to attend our first week, then we canceled it because of the fact that we were not repeaters.  When we were casually discussing this oopsie with another bartender later the next day, she mentioned that the only way you could get in was by being a repeater, or via invitation, which we didn't have.  THEN we received a phone call a few days later asking us to attend, and despite the fact that we mentioned we did not qualify, they invited us anyway.  I imagine it had something to do with my unimaginably refined volleyball skills.

So, back to our conversation with Milton.  He says, "Oh no, mon.  You can't be at de Repeaters Dinner

Our Jamaican Honeymoon Adventure - Day 9

August 26th, Day 9

As I was skimming through my photos, I realized I had neglected to post some of the really pretty sunset pictures we had gotten from the night prior.   For your viewing pleasure…

We woke up earlier than we had been due to the fact that we were going on the AM tubing trip.  We had what we considered to be pretty accurate information that it would be storming again in the afternoon, so despite the fact that neither of us are particularly early risers, we thought this might be the best bet.

The front desk informed us that the bus would be departing at 8:55, and to get there early so we wanted to get there by 8:45.  Impressed that we could wake up, pack, eat breakfast, and still arrive at 8:42, Andrew and I were fist pumping ourselves for our rare punctuality.  Needless to say, we were surprised when we were hurried out to the bus immediately upon arrival because they were "waiting for us".  For what?  The driver, Cliff (you'll see why this is funny later) told us we were late and we literally laughed, and he literally looked less than amused.  Apparently there was a miscommunication on departure times, but when we showed him our receipt with a clear 8:55 departure time written up top, he toned the fury back a couple of notches.  Besides, Jamaican fury is the equivalent of U.S. mild irritation.

We were headed to White River for our tubing adventure, and that involved us driving up a pretty steep mountain in order to get to the Chukka site.  It reminded me a lot of the way we had to travel when I was in the Scottish Highlands, because in both circumstances the drivers had to beep around the curves, as the lovely minuscule street clearly maintaining a maximum occupancy of one vehicle had to accommodate traffic in both directions.  Yikes.  I was too busy clutching the poor foreign girl's seat ahead of me to film during the really tense climbs, but here is a  video that will give you the basic idea:  (You are also able to hear some of the ridiculous air horns and sound effects in Jamaican DJing, as well.  You're welcome.)

We arrived safely at the Chukka tubing site and got some pretty snazzy helmets to wear to protect our precious noggins.  I was slightly worried about capsizing, but I figured we would be okay as long as we listened to our guides.  It also gave me peace of mind (and piece of bum) to see that there was a plastic plate covering the hole at the bottom of the tube, so our tooshies didn't get scraped.  Phew!  Both the guides were a blast, and really funny.  They would spontaneously slap the water with their paddles screaming, "No!  Get back!  Go away!" to the "alligators" that were "in the river".  They would also intermittently splash you with the frigid water, and blame it on someone else.  Smooooooth.

There were a few times that we had to cross over rapids, which was a lot of fun, and pseudo scary.  As long as you held the handles and were in control of the direction you were facing, it wasn't so bad.  There were some pretty epic photos of us traversing the choppy parts, but because we had already purchased the DVD at Dunns River Falls, we did not end up purchasing any footage of this endeavor.

We (although at times it seemed like BARELY) arrived back to Sans Souci safely, and decided to beach it for a bit in our new, less cool location where we were actually in the proximity of other guests. #FirstWorldProblems.  Despite the fact that we were all at the same all-inclusive resort, it bothered me how inconsiderate some of the guests were.  A few of the couples on our new side of the beach just left glasses and garbage on the beach chairs.  Not to mention they were smoking- and I know it's a free country and all- but it'd be great if it wasn't directly in front of others with the nice ocean breeze blowing their smoke in my face.  Yum!

Am I really finding something to complain about while on my gorgeous honeymoon in Jamaica?  I must be getting homesick at this point, that's the only explanation I can think of.  Over it.  Moving on.  

Andrew and I took a stab at sailing again, or maybe I should say I took a stab at not acquiring a panic attack and making Andrew nervous as he nimbly Captain Jack Sparrowed his way through pretty timid and shallow ocean waters.  Success!  Mostly.  I had a few moments, but overall we were out a lot longer than on our prior endeavor, and we got to go out a little further as well.

Not long after we brought the Hobe Cat back it started to storm again, so back to the room we headed.  We watched Sahara, which I hadn't seen, and had a great time (despite the minor SUH-HAIR-UH versus SUH-HARR-UH debate).

Because it was Tuesday, it was the Beach Party Dinner that we had gone to a week prior with the fire jugglers and steel drum band.  We were uncertain if we would attend, as it had been storming all afternoon since we got back to the room, but the staff did not desist setting up for a moment, so we figured we would stop down since the food selection was phenomenal before.  We ended up sitting with another couple who came down with their parents for their father's birthday.  They were the most pleasant people, and loved hearing about Andrew's and my experiences, wedding, and stories.  It turns out that the young couple had been here before and that they would be at the Repeater's Dinner the following evening.  We had obviously indicated to them that this was our first time here, but that we had received an invitation so we were planning on attending as well.

After most everybody had eaten, Andrew and I had expected the fire spinning we had seen the week prior, but we were surprised that Milton asked up all the honeymooners to do something different.  I love volunteering for things so Andrew and I hopped right up to participate in...a scavenger hunt!  Now, in order to comprehend how much Andrew and I were about to struggle here, let me just preface this with the facts: I am kind of slow, and I freak out when things are timed (Bejeweled Blitz leaves my heart racing and my face in a cold sweat, for starters), and Andrew is a type A must-do-things-perfectly type of person.  This is a deadly combination for the activity we are about to pursue, and not in a good way.

So Milton does a warm up round in which someone must find Milton's boss and bring him to the front of the stage.  Luckily, unlike the other honeymooners, Andrew and I had been there for a week already and knew more of the staff, so we were able to find him quite easily, and Andrew actually hoisted him up and carried him over.  I feel like this should have merited bonus points.  Anyway, the next round required us to find three straws, and although we completed the task, we were the last couple to do so and were, thus, eliminated.  After hearing what was to ensue for the couples left, we were better off, we thought.

The steel drummers were likely as excellent as before, but since we had already heard their performance, we opted to go back to the room to rest up for our next and final day at the resort.

Our Jamaican Honeymoon Adventure - Day 8

August 25th - Day 8

I bet you thought I was never going finish this, eh?  Wrong!  All good things take time, my friends.  Without further adieu, here is day 8...

So, here's the down-side to a resort like this: most couples stay for only seven or eight days.  Well, I suppose this could be a good thing depending on how much you like or dislike the other guests, but in our case we were pretty fond of most of the people from our first week with whom we encountered.  Now here we are, on a Monday, with new people who are exceedingly less cool, less quiet, and more high maintenance than the chill honeymooners who are now on their flights back home.  Bummer.

For example, an ornery woman standing in line with us at the water sports booth exits the line, boisterously "approval-seeking" her indignation at getting reprimanded by the lifeguards.  In their defense, flamboyantly irritated woman, you were awkwardly standing in the way of EVERYONE while trying on at least four or five different flippers.  Your rebuke was probably well-earned.

Anyway, we were also about to engage in a turf war with the new couple in town who stole our secluded trellis spot.  We were about to throw down, when Andrew and I decided that since we had adopted to sleeping in to an unreasonable hour, we had no claim on our beloved location.  Besides, we were instructed not to try our hand at sailing again at the water sports booth because the water was too calm, and it was likely going to storm again.  Translation: the new couple is about to get some banana-snakes in the face, and that's karma enough for me.

We went to the Bella Vista grill for lunch again, and Andrew got a Jerk Burger (he must be making up for all the jerk that is not actually present in his personality…?) and I think I got a burger again.  Eager to book one last excursion before we were to leave on Wednesday, we jetted up what felt like a thousand stairs to the main lobby building to book some white water tubing.  As fate would have it (probably MY karma for wishing banana-snake facials for the seat stealing lovebirds) it started to pour after we arrived to book the trip.  Not having planned to visit the lobby, as this was an impromptu decision, we came financially unprepared, and they could not book the excursion without prior payment.  So, my Prince Charming dashes out into what is now looking like a monsoon to get his wallet, and all I can do is worry that he slipped down one of the thousand or so stone staircases we endured on our way up Mount Olympus.  Luckily, he returned, all be it DRENCHED.  Like, really, really DRENCHED.  Poor guy.  It looked like he had already been tubing and had repeatedly capsized!  After we booked the excursion, we wanted to try to wait out the rain.  Ha.  Ha ha.  No dice.  So we carefully sprinted through the intense, warm, tropical rain back to our room in our soaked clothing.  This downpour lasted just about all day, but we did get some decent footage of it, complete with a very poor quality pixelated zoom, and a view of the pool that was now getting jackhammered to death on a daily basis.

Because of the lack of outdoor activity, we felt little to no shame in drying off by staying in our room and watching the end of Final Destination, and then cutting into the end of the Halle Berry film, Operator.  Seriously, why does anyone even watch the beginnings of movies?  The late-middle to the end of the film is where it's at, and you get to cover a lot more ground if you're only watching only half of every movie!  It's totally a win-win.

After movie time, we went back to the Bella Vista for dinner once the rain had subsided.  We were one of the only couples there, and we got to watch the storm progress across the ocean toward Cuba, and it was positively breathtaking. 

We're approaching the end of our journey, folks- or my journey rather.  Your journey of my journey?  Whatever.  Day nine coming at you soon!

Our Jamaican Honeymoon Adventure - Day 7

August 24th, Day 7

So I fibbed a little and said that the 22nd, was uneventful.  In fact, my Internet friends, the 24th trumps any and all uneventfulness incurred this entire trip.  How cruel is it that I kept you waiting in suspense for the lackluster writing of the lazy of epic proportions that is about to commence?  Very.

It was a fairly cloudy morning, but it didn't stop us from heading to the beach after yet another delicious breakfast.  Today was the first day that I opted to not even cautiously float atop the mysterious ocean waters, and instead lounged and read my book.  We were tucked away in our little nook with our fancy trellis, which proved to be a detriment today, as it started to rain and the wind picked up.  This seems immaterial, but until you have seen the crazy-huge leaves, berries, and banana-snakes, you know nothing, John Snow.  (I will look up the actual name for said large, scary seedlings)

Banana-Snakes

After being hit with tree debris, we were tempted to try our hand at lunch, as it started to rain a little bit as well.  Whilst munching on french fries, Andrew's go-to Jerk Burger, and my grilled snapper sandwich, we were invited by one of the Entertainment Managers (Milton) to play a game of beach volleyball.  We finished our lunch, and then headed over to see if they were still playing.

It had stopped raining, but it was far from a cloudless sky.  This worked well, because we ended up playing volleyball for a good hour or so without an ounce of sunburn, which was an added bonus.  We also ended up playing in the rain, too, so I guess it's all a give and take.

As the game finished (and our team emerged un-victorious, despite my 7 unanswered points) we headed back to the room to hang out/watch snippets of movies on the TV we were proud not to have touched until this very day/nap.  We woke up just in time to catch a late dinner, and the sleep hangover we had acquired prevented me from remembering where we ate when I tried to recollect it in my journal the next day,  Bugger.

We did receive an interesting phone call, however, inviting us to a Repeater's Dinner on Wednesday evening.  Apparently this is an event that guests who are repeat visitors to the resort are invited to, but you may also attend if you have an invitation, apparently.  Wednesday was our last night in Jamaica, so we were obvs going to accept.  What a way to go out in style.  :)

P.S.- You have NO idea how hard it was to find the name of those tricky seed buggers.  To further prove my point, here are some things I googled:

• what are the long thin hard palm tree leaves called?
• long thin hard palm leaves
• hard long palm seed
• dried banana tree (I was getting desperate…)
• banana tree seedling leaves
• caribbean trees
• Jamaican tree long plant seeds
• banana snake (REALLY desperate!)
• Jamaican tree seedlings (getting closer!  I found photos of an acacia tree with similar seedlings)
• Acacia tree pods
• Jamaican Acacia tree pods 
• Flame Tree seed pods (DING DING DING!)

Imagine if Google didn't exist.  How frustrating!?  Ever had that moment you can't think of an actor's name?  Yeah, kiddos.  Keep that in mind next time you get angry at IMDB because it took an alarming 47 seconds to load Matthew McConaughey's page.  The agony!

Our Jamaican Honeymoon Adventure - Day 6

August 23rd, Day 6

So today after breakfast, much like every other day, we meandered our way down to the beach to catch some sun and relax.  To our jovial surprise, the wind was out in full force and sunshine rays weren't the only thing we were looking to catch!  On the far side of the beach were lots of fun water paraphernalia to skirt around in, so- having had extensive kayaking adventures with the one and only Mary- I thought it could be a lot of fun to venture onto choppy ocean waters with a kayak.

In order to partake in this scariest-of-the-pansy-water-sports endeavor, we had to sign waivers.  I didn't really read it thoroughly, as I figured it would scare me to read about all of the things that potentially could happen to me whilst on the water, but Andrew and I signed our newly joint lives away in hopes for some fun adventures on the water.

The downside to the water sport accommodations was that they would only let couples take double kayaks, as that was the only kayak available.  It wasn't a big deal, as Andrew and I are apparently in sync with each above and beyond just being music geeks!  I had to be in front because of weight distribution (thank God, because give or take some pounds it probably should have gone the other way…) and one of the aquatics instructors pushed us out into the water and we were on our way!

Despite the waves being amazing, and terribly fun to splash through, it was a little stifling because we were only able to kayak out to the second row of buoys, which made it hard to paddle into the really fun ones.  I know, right?  Me complaining about the buoys being stifling?  You will see the irony here momentarily.

We headed back to shore for some pool lounging, as today was the last day it would be open due to renovations.  Andrew casually asked if I might like to go sailing with him on one of the Hobie Cat boats, and I agreed because it sounded like a lot of fun!  They were just like the big catamaran we were on, but a slightly smaller build.

When we asked to use one, the guides immediately asked us if we had gotten a tutorial yet, to which we said no, but Andrew assured them that he knew how to sail.  They persisted for a bit, with a few "Ya sure, mon?" queries, but Andrew confidently quieted their doubts, as he had sailed many times before.  I was told where to sit, and when to move, and basically Andrew was going to do the rest.  As we were being led out into the water, Andrew explained what each aspect of the sail was for and showed me what he was doing while explaining it.  He was definitely a very experienced sailor, as he said he had been to sailing school, so I felt a lot safer that he was in charge.

We sailed pretty smoothly past the area where we kayaked a few hours prior, and we were steadily headed toward the buoys, and then a little further.  Wait, no.  This can't be right.  We are PAST the buoys of safety and solace?

In order for this preface to a complete panic attack to make sense, you have to know a couple of things about me:

1) I have an irrational fear of the ocean.  This fear is exacerbated when the ocean waters deepen.
2) Despite living on the river for nearly my entire life, I have never. once. been. sailing.
3) I have an irrational fear of the ocean.

Ok.  Now that we've cleared the air, I feel like I can now properly humiliate myself.  All of a sudden I start breathing really quickly and I can hear my heart beating so clearly it is almost as if it is right in between my ears.  I'm not crying (yet) but I am definitely whimpering.  Andrew lets out an uncomfortable sort of chuckle and asks incredulously, "Baby, are you all right?  Is this for real?"  I wish I could remember all of the ridiculous things I was saying, but all I really remember is the sound of the sail slapping against the pole (mast?  Whatever it's called), lots of whimpers, and just the un-ending feeling that we would capsize at any moment in open water AWAY FROM THE BUOYS OF SAFETY AND SOLACE!  I endured for a bit longer, but I was nearly sobbing when I asked Andrew if we could go back.  He bafflingly obliges, slightly amused but more empathetic toward my dramatic performance, and we head back to shore, but not before scuttling along some delicious looking reef that was hiding from view.

Again, I can't compliment Andrew enough on not only his superb sailing, but his ability to keep calm while an insane person freaked out on his boat.  He explained every detail of what he was doing, and that he would never do anything that would put me in danger, which I of course know.  The beautiful thing about panic attacks is, they're not planned.  This one was also not for any outlandishly logical reason, either.  I knew we would be ok, and I certainly trusted Andrew, but my brain would not settle for a normal heart rate.  It was just- bizarre.

We went back to the pool, after I apologized profusely, and had some lunch before we got ready to take a reggae dance class!  It was reggae night at the Balloon Bar (who are we kidding, though, it was always reggae night) and we wanted to learn some authentic dance moves before attending.  We ate at the Pallazzina again, and this time Andrew and I both ordered the same thing, which were Jerk chicken enchiladas with mozzarella cheese and a tomato cream sauce on top.

We hung out at the bar and asked a few people if there was still going to be a reggae dance class, since we had overheard a few people mention earlier in the week that one had been canceled.  Another couple- here on their "baby moon"- sat with us and waited, and we had a nice chat with them.  Despite our best attempts to ask just about everyone who walked by if they were teaching the class, no one showed and- after 20 minutes- we headed back to the room to hang out until dinner.  Fun fact, a wild peacock roamed over to where we were waiting and just walked around.  I have never seen a peacock outside of a zoo setting before, so it was really cool to see one just grazing.  Is that even the right word?

We went to the Casanova again, since it was in close proximity to the Balloon Bar and we had a fantastic dinner.  Andrew ordered the beef tenderloin again (can you say, "creature of habit"?) and I ordered the orange honey glazed duck breast (or maybe it was peacock breast?) with scalloped sweet potatoes.  Mmm!  For appetizers, Andrew ordered a Caribbean spring roll, while I got the cream of fire tomato and crab soup.  We had some time to kill, so we did get dessert: a Jamaican coffee for Andrew, and a Calypsonian coffee (Tia Maria and creme de menthe) and homemade strawberry ice cream for me.

Us before dinner!

We went down to the main floor outside where the entertainment was happening and danced for a bit, but as you might have guessed, it was really hot (even that late in the evening) so we kept it classy and didn't over-exert ourselves.  After the live entertainment was over, we got to enjoy our first ever piano sing-a-long!  There was a Jamaican man singing with the piano player who was here with his wife, and my God he had the voice of an angel!  It was so resonant and beautiful, and he had an extraordinary range.  By the way he was playing piano, and singing too, it was very clear that he was musically trained.  Andrew and I cautiously made our way over to get a better look (and listen!) and also to see what other songs were available to perform.  As it turns out, Mr. Angel Voice loves Phantom of the Opera, so we sang Music of the Night together.  I was pumped because I had just gotten my voice back a few days prior, and I of course made Andrew record it.  For your viewing pleasure:

Although this was the only song on video, Andrew totes stole the show with his unbelievable harmonizing ability.  He sang with Mr. Angel Voice as they did an impromptu performance of Knockin' on Heaven's Door, and also harmonized with me on Someone Like You by Adele.  We ended with a rousing rendition of Hey Jude, with a few other songs spruced in there as well.  Andrew and I were fairly intoxicated (yes I put my drink on the piano in the video, and yes I slapped my own wrist later for doing it) but we wanted to take a late night swim before the pool was gone for good, so we changed into swimsuits and hopped in for a bit.  We then went up to bed, ready to take on day seven in the morning!

P.S. - So, 25% of you thought I would just willy nilly jump right into the ocean, while 0% thought I took the chicken walk in for a dip.  37% thought I just dipped my toes in, while another 37% thought I said, "Eff that" to all of the aforementioned.  I am here to surprise y'all, as I did go in!  Just not via ostentatious jumping.  I proudly took the chicken walk into the ocean where we were anchored with my life jacket on, and floated behind the boat while promptly clutching one of the ropes attached to it.  I may not be the most daring, but I was proud that I wasn't 100% scared of getting in the water.  :-)