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!
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