I have to share my first-ever-cruise adventure with you. To celebrate my son-in-law, Todd’s, 50th birthday, ten of us family members decided to go on a 5-day Carnival Cruise. I’ve never been on cruise before, have a fear of deep waters, but was excited to go.
We dove to Los Angeles, CA to board the ship on a Monday afternoon. The hype of the revelers already aboard was palpable. We put our luggage in our rooms and journeyed to an area by the pool to load up plates from a buffet. Food served around the clock that I didn’t have to prepare or clean up after sounded like heaven to me. Yum!
The buffets were nothing compared to the evening dining where our choices were mouth-watering and the service fit for royalty. Lobster and prime rib, two of my favorites – no problem!
We’re Christians, and there was still plenty of entertainment that didn’t call for ribaldry or drinking alcohol. It promised to be a fun five days. My husband, Jeff, even won a trophy for the most correct answer in a trivia contest for 60’s, 70’s, 80’s music. Yay, Jeff!
Tuesday we docked at Catalina Island. We disembarked, and rented golf carts to tour the island. Not overly exciting, but still fun. Wednesday we would disembark in Ensenada, Mexico. We planned to walk around the city and shop, maybe grab lunch.
Since we, I, did nothing but eat, eat, eat, I was looking forward to all the walking to burn off some calories. Despite all the offers from locals, “One dollar each. Take you to the ship,” I insisted we walk. Bad choice!
I ended up face first on an asphalt street in Ensenada. A gash on my forehead spilled blood down my face and soaked my blouse. I refused to be taken to the hospital in Mexico, insisting, “Get me back to the ship!”
I received three stitches, a bruised and battered face, bruised and swollen knee, bruised and scraped elbow and shoulder as a result of my refusal to catch “a dollar ride” back to the ship.
There’s definitely a story here, don’t you think? Give me some time and I’ll write it.