Isla de Encanta - Day Four, and maybe Five

So, vacation blogging is HARD.  as time goes on, details of the trip get fuzzy and frankly, as my tan fades, I'm ready to talk about other things.  Trying to keep a detailed, day-to-day record, is daunting at best.  For the sake of not leaving my loyal readers hanging (because, I know, you're all waiting with baited breath *rolls eyes*) I'll try to run down the last 3-4 days for you.

Monday was another beach day, where Kaylee and Mindy proceeded to get burned like crispy critters.  I remained relatively unscathed by the sun and all it's cancerous rays.  We've come to a conclusion that this may be attributed to them using a continuous spray type sunblock, which can be sketchy in it's coverage at best, whereas I had a lotiony type.  During the afternoon we took to the local plaza in search of souvenirs.. it was here we discovered that the plaza is a shopping experience much more similar to the North American experience.. pricing is still negotiable, but you can tell the difference between people working for a wage and people who are living strictly off their sales.  Wage-earners, while still enthusiastic sales people, are a little more willing to leave you alone.  We went to one store with a parrot and a monkey, and the monkey peed on Kaylee's shoulder while the shopkeeper walked away and pretty much ignored the scene.

We did our second A La carte dinner at Michelangelo's, the Italian place, and we all got nice and dressed up for the occasion.  There was a black-with-white-flowers and red flowers theme.  Cannelloni was awesome.

Andie got shit-tanked drunk that night.  Oh yeah.  It's a little blurry, honestly.  There was some dancing.  There was a midnight buffet.  There was a calling out of an Ontario boy for pulling the awkward act over the previous couple of days, then an agreement to be friends.  I wanted to swim in the ocean.  So I did.  In my underwear, which in fairness could have passed for a bathing suit on any given day.  With two women I'd never met before, but one was a kick boxer and I think I told her a few times that we should spar.  I don't think I tried to roundhouse her, but I wouldn't put it past me at that point.  I do remember saying "I'm glad you guys are here, in case I drown.  If I drown, you will save me, correct?"

Two words.  Shit-TANKED.

I was shaking a lot of sand and salt out of that dress the next day, this much is true.

Which was great because the next day, nice and hungover, we left on the Puerto Plata Runners expedition the next day.  On this particular expedition, they take you to the local school, and to the home of one of the locals so you can see how they live.  You also get to go to a cigar makers (I had to leave the hut, it smelled terrible.  Ex-smokers are extra sensitive to the smell I think).  They gave us coconut milk straight from the coconut.  I didn't much care for it.  It tasted like that stuff they give me before a colonoscopy to make me poop.  Unpleasant.

The tour guide took a shine to me and would randomly call out 'An-dray-ah' during the trip, to which I could only respond 'Hola!' He was cool, though and a very fun guide.  I was concerned at the beginning because he made some jesus-freak references, and one regarding marriage that got my back up, but turned out to be okay during the rest of the trip.

During this excursion we were adopted by a lovely family from Listowel who were on holiday with the oldest four of their seven children.  Seven, seriously.  I am not kidding.  By the end of the holiday we were referring to them as mom and dad and had 'family' pictures taken (which are on Mindy's camera and not mine! *shakes fist*).  We also had the fun of informing 'Mom' and 'Dad' that they were now grandparents to four beautiful little girls.

I had some stuff I wanted to say about the tourism industry and the commodification of poverty and 'real-life' experiences, but I'm tired, I have a craft sale in the morning, and I've been making coasters and inhaling glaze.  So that may be a blog for another day.

We did Michelangelos' for a second night in a row, and during this time a cold, or an allergy or something was driving me up a frickin' wall.. Despite my best efforts, at around 10:30 I apologized and told the girls I was Sallying out for the night.  Apparently while I had gone to bed early, I missed some excitement at the disco.  A girl was taken to the hospital with a broken wrist/arm.  Shit-tanked, she decided it would be fun to chest-bump one of the guys.  However, she must have ricocheted off him too fast because she fell back and landed on her wrist.  First night at the resort.

This, children, is why we use alcohol responsibly.  *hic*