Happy New Year – tropical edition

Our New Year’s Eve was a blur of cocktails, ocean breezes and all the colorful sights the tropics have to offer.  After breakfast we headed out on another long snorkel around the island.  More beautiful fish –  tie die fish, cigarette burn fish, squinty eye joe the fish (I was quite fond of him, though I think he was on e of the dangerous ones). Tiffany continues to know all the fish by proper identification, while Nicola’s files them under Pretties, Uglies, and Good Eating.

We found our turtle again.  Nic uncreatively named her Myrtle, Tiffany went for Anna. I’m choosing to think of him as a him and have named him Fred.

After lunch and a little rest (cocktail), Tiffany set off again in the kayak. With the tide low, I fear we did some irreparable damage to the coral reef, but it was a lovely calm spin around the kilometer long island.

We rested up and regrouped for the sunset and more cocktails, watching them from the far end of the island. Eavesdropping in on our fellow sundowners, we worried for the fate of a couple near us who, when unable to agree on the species of fish below us challenged each other with “well, we can call your mother. She’d know what colors those are.” “No, let’s call your mother. She’ll know the fish!” And then they stomped off, hopefully to make up before midnight.

The dinner buffet was so elaborate that they opened the doors 20 minutes early for photos. We filled ourselves to the gills, splurged on champagne and toasted the new year. While we ate the staff stealthily moved all the deck chairs to the beach and the dancing began.  We drank pina coladas and sang along to the pop hits. I hope we’re not the only group of women who find themselves boogying and singing to Robin Thicke before realizing we hate him.

At four minutes of midnight according to Nic and my iPhones the countdown began and 10 seconds later we were kissing and toasting as a festive boat with hundreds of lights spelling out HAPPY NEW YEAR sailed by. (we toasted again four minutes later).

New Years morning brought an early champagne brunch  before New York had pulled out its new calendar. Another snorkel (I was stung on the arm and leg by jelly fish, ouch!) and I was waving Nicola and Tiffany off with hugs and plans for the inevitable next visit (maybe Tuscany in the summer and how about Cuba for next new year?)

I cried uncontrollably for an hour (that’s for their benefit, actually, I had another cocktail), and got a kayak.  A half an hour solo spin around the island was meditative and rejuvenating.

I am typing this on the veranda listening to the lapping waves and feeling the powdery sand beneath my feet.

I’m not coming home.