Crazy Taxi

After spending a few days playing on the beach in Fort Lauderdale, we boarded the plane to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands where we wouldn't have to deal with crazy British chihuahua importation rules that come with flying into the British Islands. At the airport everyone is treated to a warm Caribbean welcome with steel drum music filling the air from a dreadlocked musician and a stand where free rum is passed out to anxious vacationers who are ready to start their drunken stupor. Though we enjoyed the music, we declined the rum. Outside the airport we were shown to the giant passenger van that would be ours alone as it would be too dangerous for other passengers to ride with us due to the ferocious chihuahua. As is custom in our family, we all reached for our seat belts only to discover that there was nothing to clip them to. We asked the cab driver if there were any seat belts. He replied that "seat belts are not necessary," he pauses here as he rethinks his wording, "seat belts are not," paaause, "required here," as he clips his own seatbelt. Oink! Hold on kids! As we make our way out of the airport Isaac astutely points out that he is driving on the wrong side of the road making it more difficult for us backseat drivers to accurately predict if he is going to hit the oncoming traffic or not. After much discussion, I think that we have come to the conclusion that the roads here are nearly as crazy as Portugal, perhaps, at times, even more crazy when they rear up to insanely steep grades. It's almost like they took a hiking trail and "paved" it over. We wound over the top of the island, through the tightest switch backs I have ever seen, past rundown, but colorfully painted houses and bars, past wild chickens and goats everywhere, surrounded by tropical vegetation and flowers, completing our journey successfully at our destination, Red Hook Bay, where Fidelity, her captain, and first mate were waiting for us. Whew!