So it begins

In the summertime, people travel. Unless you're coming from a cold climate, like London, when you travel in the winter time and you migrate your very white body to the Caribbean, once owned and operated by your monarch and now, they just kinda pay homage to them. If you're an American, you travel in the summer because that's when you have the coupon for.

If you want, you can read along for the next two weeks as I walk you through our migration to the islands once owned by the Caribs, who were a delightful people who fancied cannibalism.

I will tell you about such characters as Shawn, the guy who can sell ice to Eskimos who lined up horse back riding---after he gets his $50 cash up front. Did I tell you his office is the beach? Sure, take bets as to whether the horses show up or not.

Then there is Cap'n Nash. You would swear by his non-accent, he was a pediatrician from Detroit. He runs a sailboat and lined up a 'three hour tour.' Did I say his office was on the beach as well. Its okay, he had a business card.

Then there is the Russian.

Or the Haitian.

Both cab drivers in Miami who make the trip from the airport to the hotel on South Beach every bit as much of a pucker factor as Thunder Mountain Railroad ride at Disneyland.

So, hang in there if you are truly bored, grab a diet beverage, sit back and I will walk through the trip as best as I can tell it.