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!