Alone, at the Bottom of the World (part 14)

Some Kind of Revenge

Perhaps King Neptune was a passenger, roped into performing for us as we crossed the Equator. Perhaps he was part of the entertainment team aboard SS Australis, morphing into Neptune as he criss crossed the South Pacific every few weeks. Whoever he was, he made an impression. I kept a wary eye out for him as the days passed, but never did identify him. And I think I would have known..

We were approaching Mexico, and eager to be on land once again. Strangely some of our friends said they would not be going ashore. They did not trust the shore and feared 'Montezuma's Revenge'. But nothing could keep me from stepping out onto solid ground, at last.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/hosael/1807320844/

Richard came along and we dashed down the gangplank the moment of our release. Acapulco lay before us, beautiful and hot and very accessible. As we ran, Richard mentioned not drinking the water; or at least, to drink only water in bottles, previously unopened.

'The Steward told me about it,' he mentioned in his quiet Aussie voice.  'He said there might be Consequences.'

Racing along the sand toward the city, we were stopped by a lady selling watermelon. I can't tell you how beautiful that watermelon was! The most red, sweet, delicious looking fruit ever. But it was already cut, and for it to be already cut meant a knife (you never know where that thing's been) had had to cut it. And it would have been exposed to the world of Acapulco. 

Richard gazed warily at it.

'I wouldn't,' said he. 

'Oh but Richard, I'm sure it is fine! It looks so clean and the lady looks clean too.'

'I'm not very hungry,' he replied.                             http://www.flickr.com/photos/mink/7500659352/

But I was. And my assurances convinced only me that day. I don't remember now what the slice of watermelon cost, but I can tell you that IT WAS NOT WORTH IT!

For within 15 minutes, I sheepishly said that we had better get back to the ship. 'Oh dear!' Richard said, and quickly led me to a porta potty on the beach. On our walk-run back to the ship, we came across a number of these handy little spots (the city must have planned it like that, for needy passengers!). 

When at last we reached the Australis, we had nothing to show for our (my) pains. I swiftly slunk to my little room below, and stayed there. For - quite a while.

Is it enough to know that I learned my lesson that day? Is it enough to feel terribly sorry for me? You should. The SconeLady felt, herself, terribly and deeply sorry. 

And she will never feel quite the same about Mexican Watermelon.

See you along the way!
the SconeLady


photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hosael/1807320844/">Hosael</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">cc</a>


photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mink/7500659352/">Mink</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>