This past January, EZ (my bestest-friend-from-college) and I left our fellas at home and went on a cruise together. Now, cruising is something you either love or hate. And we don' t just love it; we LURVE it! I guess it's like college for us, back when EZ and I were roommates, plus she and I travel well together. We love having our adventures in the ports-of-call, sure, but we like coming back to the ship at the end of the day, filling up on food and drink, getting pampered, and waking up in a new location. This ship is its own adventure, too. The best is meeting new people and talking to all the other cruisers, because, and I cannot stress this enough, EVERYONE IS SO HAPPY! (And there are no cell phones!)
It's interesting that while I am a terrible swimmer and while I am not exactly keen on being IN the water, I can't get enough of being ON the water. I think I got my love of cruising from my grandfather, who was in the Navy. He was also big on cruising.
In January, EZ and I went to Key West, Cozumel, and Belize City. We also had one day at sea to chill out and bake in the sun. This picture is from a sandy atoll near Belize City where we lounged for a time after snorkeling. Every time I see this picture, my heart physically aches because it is so beautiful.
Of course, the vacation was not without its "downs." Well, there was only one "down." It happened the morning of January 17. We were supposed to be docked in Cozumel, but something had happened so that a tender was needed to reach the shore. No matter to EZ and I, as we were going to be taking a 45-minute long tender ride anyway, not to Cozumel, but to Playa del Carmen, where we would continue on to the Tulum Mayan Ruins and Xel-Ha, a natural water park.
Our group was late getting onto the tender, which shall be forever now called the "Catamaran of Evil." As we finally boarded it, whisperings rippled through the crowd that we were late because someone had nearly fallen in the ocean, the water was so choppy. When the full Catamaran of Evil separated itself from the ship, it instantly bucked up and down like a rollercoaster, and the passengers squealed. As we moved along, the going got tougher. The stomachs of everyone on the Catamaran of Evil tightened collectively as the horizon line swinged above, then dipped below the portholes. At the same time, we were thrown backwards and forwards in our seats. The crew began walking through the aisles, passing out lavender-colored plastic bags. The television at the front of the Catamaran of Evil, which was showing still photographs of hot people on gorgeous beaches, was failing to distract me.
Then it began. Like the scene from "Stand By Me" where everyone starts to puke at the pie eating contest, lavender-colored bags were being thrown left and right, catching upchuck. And it was only 20 minutes into the 45-minute ride.
The panic set in. "I can't do this," I worried aloud to EZ. She said, "It's okay. Just breathe." I replied by jumping out of my seat and heading towards the restrooms in the back. On the way, I was thrown about by the choppy sea. I landed on a few other passengers, and, most notably, slammed into a pole and slid down an entire row of seats (earning a nasty bruise as a result). I finally made it to the back, where I grabbed a lavender-colored plastic bag from a member of the crew and slammed myself into a restroom. At this point, I must stress: I am NOT a vomiter and I do NOT get seasick. It had been ten years since my stomach had turned on me. But turn on me it did, this morning of January 17.
Now, I don't know if any of you have had the seasickness, but it is quite possibly the worst thing to happen to your body. You feel like it will never end, and you feel like you should just cut your losses and die already.
We finally made it to Playa del Carmen, and when I emerged from the restroom, at least 75% of the other passengers looked as pale as me. EZ, by the way, had been (secretly) taking Dramamine, the newfangled kind the lasts 24 hours and doesn't cause drowsiness, so while she was uncomfortable, her breakfast oatmeal stayed in its rightful place.
Anyway, we had an amazing day after that, but I was scared the whole time that I had to get back on the Catamaran of Evil to return to the ship. So I purchased some Mexican Dramamine, the suspicious kind with no Drug Facts listed on the side and no safety wrapping around the box. I took some, and was half asleep in 20 minutes.
Good thing I was only half asleep, because I would have otherwise missed what was playing on the television. Instead of still photographs of hot people on gorgeous beaches, it was the video of Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammer. EZ and I sat next to each other, exhaused and rapt by the video. Since that time, I've been addicted to Sledgehammer. And here is where knitting finally enters the story.While knitting my Summertime Tunic on the commuter train this week, I realized that "Sledgehammer" is perfect for motivating stockinette in the round -- which is a good thing, because this tank is all stockinette, all the time.
I don't know if Sledgehammer works for all you Continental-style knitters out there, but give it a shot and let me know.This motivated me to find other tunes that matched my stockinette-in-the-round pace. I came up with a few...
(1) Average White Band's "Pick up the Pieces".
(2) K.C. & The Sunshine Band's "(Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty"
(3) Madonna's "Hung Up" (which grew on me, as my intial reaction was: "What did she do to ABBA?!?!?!")
(4) The Eames Era's "Could Be Anything"
(5) Toots & The Maytals' "Funky Kingston" (slows down the pace a little, but it's worth it)
As for "Sledgehammer," viewing of the video by
Aardman is optional, but highly suggested.
No comments:
Post a Comment