I was determined to do at least one beach and swim in the Caribbean, even if Annette wouldn’t go in the sea; too scared of the waves and not having a side rail to hang onto. So we hunted down a local supermarket and got some local beers to fend off any thirst, dumped all the supplies back on the ship and caught a taxi to Palm Beach.
I have to say most of the beaches we saw were by and large the regulation white sand and dotted with the obligatory palm trees but, they were also incredibly narrow not like the wide expanses of say West Super Mare or even Blackpool. So much for the skill of the Hollywood camera men overcoming reality. Nevertheless, having avoided paying a small fortune for a coach trip round the colourful and hot island with an hour on the sand, we could enjoy such that there was at our leisure.
There was plenty of room as I suspect most of the ‘tourist crowds’ were already back on board. I got my swim in incredibly warm and clear water, sadly not any fish that I noticed close enough to see from where I was swimming unlike in the Red Sea(see tales of Egypt previously published here). I was a little bit concerned about how my arm and shoulder would stand up to swimming but, I appeared to be quite comfortable with the salt water supporting my weight and I took it fairly easy to be double sure. I think the light exercise probably did more good than harm.
By the time I’d got back ashore Annette was thirsty so I went in search of the local bar and got her a double cocktail deal and a nice ice cold local beer for myself for the princely sum of $12 Caribbean, about $5 US. This brought a smile to her thirsty face, both better taste and value than on-board the ship. The beer too was much better suited to the climate than the stuff they were selling on-board; Speckled Hen did not go well with the heat and Landlord was the best of the rest. Actually that wasn’t too bad a drink.
Thursday we were off to Curacao and punted for the Land train
tour of the town with local history thrown in. As with many local history tours there wasn’t that much to discover other than it had largely been in Dutch hands and that the capital Willemstad had an unusual swing open pontoon bridge, the original having been built by a British engineer in the 1800s. 
It was quite fascinating to watch them opening it up as it had two options. Only the far end opened for the smaller boats and people were permitted to continue crossing of the stationary sections and for the larger shipping they stopped the pedestrians and the whole structure swung through ninety degrees alongside the nearside bank. As you can see the other striking feature was the multi coloured Dutch style houses which tradition has it the one time mayor stated his wife had been complaining that all the white houses were dazzling her in the summer heat, so he requested the townsfolk to paint their house different colours. It also seems that the mayor owned the local paint factory.
This town proved to be the biggest we saw on our cruise and Annette was quite happy doing some shopping when we overcome our fascination with the bridge. We got more cheap beers and found some T shirts and dresses for Alicia (oh the joys of being a naughty Granddad). Sadly no steel drum which I was determined to hunt down for Alicia; just thinking of the row – I mean music , she could make with one of those made me smile.
Crossing back over the bridge we stopped in yet another local bar for more liquid refreshments and Annette was over the moon as she managed to get connected to free wifi and got a video link to Joy and Alicia and even later, to Adam who was annoyed because the dog was still alive and a pain in the neck to feed on her special diet of sweet potato and pasta.
Back on board, food was still pretty awful and entertainment was not to my taste again so watched a bit of; Tina and The Peakles
Web would be at sea all day Friday off to some other place, by now they were all melding into one sunny hot sandy blur, which wasn’t too bad a thing.