UPDATE: This was started on the 29th, but due to the unforeseen circumstances of the Internet going tits up island wide, I had no way to finish my little saga for the day. Now I'm back, so here goes!
Wicked bad case of insomnia (and no damn ATIVAN!!!) caused me to wake up at 0100 and I've been awake ever since. Mrs. Hardy was awake not long after I was and we gave up all hope of sleeping at 0430 and went to work out. It's now 0645, Mrs. H. is in the shower and I am blogging from our little private patio in the Caymans. Bummer of a life. So, to continue...
Since we are here for a conference, we actually attended yesterday....most of it anyway. We bailed about an hour before it was done, because one of the doctors is DEAD BORING, and we are in the CAYMANS!! We have things to do people! Besides, my direct supervisor said, and I quote, "Don't spend a lot of time at the conference." I think ignoring her advice is a blatant act of insubordination, really. After we snuck out, we decided we should go work out for awhile to ward off all the evil spirits of all the food we have consumed in a short amount of time. We decided to stop working out when I felt the start of an arrhythmic episode and Mrs. Hardy felt like she was going to pass out. Note to self, late afternoon activities more strenuous than raising your hand for the employees wandering around waiting to bring you stuff should be studiously avoided. We then went and spent some time on the glorious beach where I had a hard time convincing my travelling companion that it is much better to tan slowly than to fry yourself to the point of sun poisoning on the first day. This is experience talking here; it puts a real damper on the vacay when you are too dizzy to walk (and not in a good way) and your skin feels like you just emerged from the seventh ring of Hell. And how's that for a segue?
Meaning, we had to go to the town of Hell, even if our guide book said to avoid it at all costs. How could we avoid it? Unfortunately, I don't have "Highway to Hell" on my iPhone cuz that would have been AWESOME! Aside from the fact that there are no highways here, there are also no road signs and the maps are designed for people with clairvoyance. We wandered around, following the directions on the map ("it says follow Watercourse Road to Church Street" what it doesn't say is you have to turn left onto King Road, follow it for half a mile and THEN you can turn on church street), and finally arrived in HELL! Which was closed. How can Hell be closed? Especially for some of it's minions? Not to be dissuaded we did take some pictures. So here is the standard "Welcome to Hell" sign:
Which I think they felt guilty about, because on the otherside of the building was this:
Mrs. Hardy took a somewhat sedate picture at Hell:
While I felt the need to channel Ozzy or Dio or someone of that ilk:
Friday saw us skipping out of the conference after the morning break *cough cough* and heading over to the Turtle Farm. This was tons of fun, due mainly to our tour guide Benny who took quite a fancy to us and gave us the full tour instead of the turtle farm only tour that we paid for. I blame Mrs. Hardy's short shorts and the "twins" myself. But, hey, whatever works. He referred to us as "the famous nurses" and took a picture of us at the end. Mrs. Hardy was fearful that he was going to use it for stalking purposes, but I believe I allayed her fears on that point. We found out about the breeding program for the Greenback Turtle, learned how to tell a male from a female (males have long tails but they don't show up until they are six) and, special treat, we got to hold some turtles.
Mrs. H's turtle looks like he's found something extremely interesting on the ground, while mine just looks like he's doing the Wave.
This is now my favorite picture from the Caymans