Sometimes I wish I lived in Miami, I mean think how much easier it would be to get to a tropical climate—like Bonaire. I’m just saying. . .

So, I’m heading out for a much-needed warm winter break, which requires purchasing a few things, namely shorts. Shorts that cover the danger zone otherwise know as U.U.P. (upper lumpy leg.)

We christened him, “Le Cork”, our Bora Bora scuba adventures continue . . .

Speeding out to the dive site, I struck up a conversation with one of my boat mates. Well, that’s not quite right, I talked and he nodded. I tried English and practiced my cave man French. No reply, only nods and grunts issued forth from my morose seatmate.

Two five-hour plane rides, one overnight in Tahiti, a commuter jump to Bora Bora, and finally a 15-minute boat ride to the Four seasons Bora Bora. Kind of Funny what a Seattle mossback will do to get out of the rain.

It is New Year’s Eve, and all the island and staff are anticipating some fabulous festivities. Craig and I are very excited; perhaps we will finally make some friends. We have found that the other island guests are very inclusive. The kids express concern.

After our Bequia fiasco, we are hoping for adventure on another
island. The kids have grown tired of the dilapidated water toys, and we are ready for some more exploring.

Years ago, when we visited Turks and Caicos, we stayed at the Club Med – a good choice if you are young, poor and enjoy dancing to cult music every night. The “all inclusive” part of the deal lured us in too, but this year we have upgraded ourselves to a four star resort, hoping for a bathroom in our bedroom, and not down the hall as in days past.