Aruba is stunning, but not in the tropical island kind of way. Imagine the northern section of the Big Island of Hawai’i, or Death Valley, Calif., with cooler weather. Friendly people, a whole bunch of Argentine tourists, and not one single mention of a certain Miss Natalie (I purposely omit her last name to prevent this post from showing up on Google searches referencing her).
We did a touristy kind of thing this morning by going out to a famous shipwreck in the bay to see the remains of a German cargo freighter that the crew scuttled the day Hitler attacked Holland. Hostilities against the Germans, it seems, in this former Dutch colony were immediate, and the captain unexpectedly found himself between the Dutch Navy and the Dutch Marines. Rather than give them the ship, he sunk it, and it has now become a beautiful coral reef.
As we un-boarded the boat that was actually quite different from anything the Partridge Family would have driven, I found myself face-to-hair with an exotic older woman whose hair color could only be rivaled by the sun (and Miss Clairol #13, Brighter-Than-Crap Blond). Almost instinctively, my eyes scanned this woman’s wind-blown coiffure in search of a bun. Not just any bun, mind you, but a certain politically connected bun. Yes, I think I found Mrs. Bunida, sans bun!
Inspect my photographic evidence yourself and tell me. See, there is life after Montgomery County politics!
Now the Brilliance of the Seas sails to Curacao!
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