cruisinelves

Where to begin? Well, Jim and I had read on cruisecritic.com that a scooter ride to Rum Point in Grand Cayman was A) about 45 minutes to an hour and B) fun. We got tender tickets early and were high-fiving because we got on the first tender to shore. When we got off of the tender, we realized that in order to rent scooters we'd need our driver's licenses, so we got on a tender back to the boat, Jim ran in and we went back to shore. At the jewelry store, where they happen to rent out scooters to tourists, they asked us "Do you have experience?" and both of us said yes. I had ridden a scooter in Key West 20 years ago. As we both pulled out of the driveway, it became immediately apparent that Jim hadn't ridden a scooter 20 years ago --- or ever. I pulled out first, and then I thought I heard something drop out of my basket (there actually WAS lotion in the basket), so I turned around and saw Jim lying half on the sidewalk with the scooter between his legs, somehow unable to let go of the throttle, waving his other hand and saying, "It's okay, it's okay" to me and the woman who had just rented us the scooters.

I pulled over to the side and told Jim I thought this was a bad idea and that he was going to hurt himself, but he said he would be okay now and he just needed to practice. So we drove a ways down this road along the water and stopped at the second place where there was beach access. The beach was empty, beautiful, and the perfect place to spend a couple of hours before lunch. But we had to go to RUM POINT!! So I dipped my feet in the water, brushed the sand off my feet, put my sneakers back on and we took off...Can you say "harrowing"? I'll say it. The ride was more frightening that leaping off of a platform 40 feet in the air, putting my life in the hands of the person clamping my safety line to the correct crampon. I had to trust my fellow man once again on the scooter ride from hell, with what seemed to be semis whizzing by us on a 50 MPH road, some of them coming a bit too close for comfort. On the less-populated stretches, there were literally chickens crossing the road. They were really pretty chickens. Anyway, the hell ride lasted over 2 hours because I was too afraid to go over 20-25 MPH because I figured if I fell off at a slower speed, I'd be less likely to break a leg for instance.

Funny you mention that...

When we got to Rum Point (see photo at the beginning of the post), we inquired as to whether there was some way to get back to the cruise ship port that wouldn't involve actually driving the scooters back. There wasn't. We sat at one of the picnic tables where they have table service and got some yummy food and drinks (non-alcoholic) before venturing out for the last ride (there really were points when I thought this was the LAST ride.) We left with 3 hours to get back to the ship and I resolved to drive faster so the trip wouldn't last quite so long.

Did I mention that they drive on the left side of the road in Grand Cayman?

We were about a mile from our destination when we took a wrong turn. We pulled into a Catholic school parking lot and asked a nice woman where the cruise ships could be found; she told us to turn around and go back the way we came. We turned around and went toward the road where we needed to turn to go back. The sidewalks were filled with kids who had just gotten out of school. They looked middle school to high school aged. Some of them were shouting "Hey lady, I'll help you drive that" as I tooted the cute little horn on the scooter at them. We got to the road where we needed to take a right and I pulled out first.

What was that noise?

I heard something behind me and once again thought something had fallen out of my basket. I turned around and saw Jim lying in the road with his scooter, surrounded by Caymanian children in school uniforms. "Mister, are you okay?" He got up, embarrassed more than anything at the moment, and the kids helped him walk the scooter to the side of the road. At that moment, a fire emergency vehicle happened to be passing by and thought we had run out of gas. They saw the scrapes on Jim's knees, his arm, hands, and foot and realized something else was up. The kids swarmed around his scooter and some of them sat on it to get their pictures taken. They asked what happened and if Jim had ever ridden a scooter before. In fact, he hadn't. The EMTs treated Jim's wounds and told us to go to the hospital on the ship, where strangely enough all of the doctors are always South African (later the doctor told us they are economic refugees).

We returned the scooters. The woman to whom we returned the scooters was a different one than the woman who had seen Jim fall the first time. She asked if he had fallen and he said yes. She looked at the bike, seemed a little annoyed, and then just charged us the normal rate. The front of the scooter was a bit scratched up, but from what we learned later, they must see this ALL the time with tourists renting scooters.

We walked slowly back to the ship as Jim's ankle started swelling up, and talked about how neither of us had ever been to the hospital or broken a bone. Well...actually. Jim will be getting a permanent cast up to his knee in the next couple of days. He did indeed fracture the very end of his tibia (if that's the bone that runs along the outside of one's leg to the ankle) and will need to wear a cast for 4 to 6 weeks, go to an orthopedist, and have a couple of months of physical therapy after that. Then we'll see about him running the marathon in November. That's Jim just after he found out he fractured his leg.

I'm just glad I'm not a widow. I feel SO lucky right now. It could have been a lot worse. So now I'm taking care of Jim like he always has taken care of me. It feels good. Oh, and he's never allowed to ride a scooter again.

We'll write about our day in Roatan today later on. I can't tell if these photos are dark just on this machine or in general. Can someone let us know?