Glow with the Tide. The Morning the Ocean Turned into Miami

 

We went to sleep once again with the balcony door wide open, listening to gentle waves and that perfect cruise-ship white noise. Pure bliss. At 4 a.m., however, I woke up to the sound of a grumpy Scott closing the balcony door.
Excuse me - what? I was genuinely shocked. Normally, he’s the one who insists on sleeping with windows or doors wide open, no matter the weather. Even if we need to shovel the snow out in the morning. Turns out, the issue this time was… Miami traffic noise. WTF? Yes, dear loyal reader, we were already sailing into Miami, bringing the Caribbean bliss to an end.

We grabbed breakfast one last time and then headed out with our luggage. Just this morning we had read horror stories about endless disembarkation lines and hours of waiting, so instead of politely waiting for our assigned time slot, we made a bold move and headed straight to Deck 6. No chaos. No waiting. No drama. Not even fellow travellers. There was a small delay at passport control, but even that took no more than 10 minutes. Smooth sailing - literally until the very end.

Since both of our flights were only in the evening, but we had to leave the ship in the morning, we had rented a car for the day. The rental company technically offered free shuttle to their office. In reality, waiting for that shuttle felt like waiting for Godot. So we grabbed a taxi and sped there ourselves. We were fifth in line. Thirty minutes later, Scott was still standing in line while I guarded the suitcases outside. By then, the line had grown to about 15 people - just in time for the first free shuttle bus full of rental customers to arrive and immediately join the queue. And a mere 45 minutes later… we had a car. Had we waited for the free shuttle, I’m fairly confident we’d still be standing in that rental line as I write this. On Friday evening.

With the car secured, it was shopping time. We spent a couple of hours in Florida’s largest mall, did some shopping, grabbed food, and then - most importantly - headed to Dairy Queen. Because let’s be honest: no U.S. trip is complete without Dairy Queen. Absolutely worth it. 10/10.

After that, it was time to drive to the airport, return the car, and make our way to the gates. Which we did, like the responsible travellers we are.

When boarding the plane, I noticed my seat was suspiciously… decorated. With what looked very much like vomit. I asked a flight attendant for wet wipes. She didn’t have any, but kindly offered me another blanket to cover the seat and reassured me that this was a brand-new aircraft. Well… that vomit also looked brand new, so I guess everything checked out? Eventually, also wet wipes appeared, and I thoroughly scrubbed away the mystery substance. Crisis managed.

By morning, I was in Copenhagen, followed by a quick transfer - and by early afternoon, home, where Gerli and Saskia were already waiting.

Looking back now, there are three things I miss the most (in no particular order):
1. The amazing food
2. The gym and running track literally minutes away
3. That RIDICULOUSLY comfortable hammock on our balcony

Sure, I miss the weather, the new places, and the whole cruise vibe too - but those three things? Bring them back!

Where Pink meets Blue. About Donkeys, Pelicans and Cacti

 

We woke up in the harbor of Bonaire — and shortly it was obvious: Bonaire was everything Aruba was missing, and then some. A tiny, wonderful island with only two towns, and even the bigger one was delightfully small. Super laid-back, easy to walk, and ridiculously cute.
Scooter? Of course we had one booked. Ten minutes later we had the keys, a suggested route, and absolutely no reason to stay put. Off we went.

The very first thing we noticed were the fences. Or rather… cactus fences. Entire gardens made out of cacti. Not decorative cacti. Defensive cacti. These people clearly do not enjoy unexpected visitors. Possibly Estonian. Or at least spiritually aligned.

Along the roads, donkeys casually strolled around like they owned the place (they probably do), and wherever there was even a hint of water, pelicans were hanging out.

We made a short stop at a surfing beach before heading to the slave huts. The first ones were bright red — okay, technically orange — sitting along the shoreline like someone’s very misguided idea of a luxury resort. Each hut had a tiny window hole and an even tinier doorway. I personally fit inside only by crawling. You could sit inside, but standing was absolutely not an option. Comfort was clearly not part of the original design brief.

A little further down the coast were the old slave huts — identical in shape, just painted white instead. Same tiny openings, same brutal reminder of history, same surreal beachside setting.

Next stop: the pink salt flats. Against the pale blue sky, the colors were unreal — like someone had turned the saturation up too high. Huge salt crystals were scattered around, and of course, we took some.

We also visited 1,000 Steps Beach (which, thankfully, is a lie, there are 77 steps only), and after that it was time to return the scooter in town.

Our very first stop after returning it was directly across the street — an artisan bakery and café. There, we scored an unbelievable sourdough pistachio pastry. It tasted like a buttery rose from the 90s. Easily one of the best pastries we've been eating on the trip.

We wandered around town, sat in cafés, soaked in the slow pace, and eventually walked back to the ship. We squeezed in a bit of exercise (to emotionally prepare for dinner), and at 8 p.m. ended the day with pasta at an Italian restaurant.