As it turned out, the Fish Food Treaty of 2014 was to be forged under the tutelage of my sister. Not surprisingly in the five months after the last incident preceding her arrival, absolutely nothing was accomplished in moving towards peace. Well, not nothing exactly. I spoke about it briefly once at the breakfast table and I did smile (somewhat crookedly) at a monkey in downtown Delhi….from the back of a Tuk Tuk…a fast moving Tuk Tuk…I’m positive he saw me…and waved back. Nonetheless, my sister was here and as expected, wanted to crusade deeply into monkey held territory. So we did; and with very pleasing result.
The first order of business while heading south along Quintana Roo C1, was to gawk at the cruise ships. They truly are a marvel. I’m not a cruise guy myself, but they sure are something to look at. The downside to cruise ships of course, if you’re staying in the vicinity of a port area, is that as soon as they dock and the hordes of cruisers come ashore all lathered in suntan lotion, sporting straw hats and dark sunglasses in Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts, clicking everything that moves with their Nikons (yep, I’ve been known to don this veneer myself…too often in fact), the prices in all the shops tend to triple.