Day Cinco of da Cruise, OR strolling on the Boardwalk, OR the day of the Crab, OR Bear Grylls goes to South Africa

There's not a lot to say about La Paz other than it was FABULOUS, peaceful, and perfect. It reminded me a great deal of Carmel-by-the-Sea in California - which happens to be one of my favorite places. It was all very picturesque and Spanish, and sea-shore-town like. The best part was the lack of tourist-heavy coercion and crowding. La Paz is more of an "unknown" it seems, as most cruise lines tend to frequent Catalina or Puerto Vallarta. I'm glad ours decided to take a chance on La Paz - because La Paz took a chance on us - and it was pure magic.

Come! Slip on some sandals, pour yourself some lemonade, pick a novel, grab a spring scarf just in case, and walk with me through La Paz:

 Meet Senor La Paz. I thought the best way to feel Paz-ian was to step in the shoes/form/pose of Mr. La Paz himself. And I promise you it is a Senor despite his feminine characteristics. There was a plaque... and he had a beard. There's probably a joke in there about women having beards too - but I'm just not grasping it at the moment.

 This fellow was deemed "The Old Man and the Sea" after the very same Old Man in the Sea c/o Ernest Hemingway. I admit, I'm not a huge Hemingway fan, BUT, I do love Old Man and the Sea and I particularly liked this Old Man and the Sea, as he looks out to the horizon beyond. I needed to look too - just to see what he was seeing. Turns out... it was the Sea! What!!

Gelato. Of course. Who goes to Mexico and doesn't get some Italian Gelato? Psh - not us.

A church. Purty.

Our activities in La Paz consisted of strolling, picture taking, window shopping, strolling some more, and eating. Doesn't that sound like a lovely day? If we would've had two days in La Paz, I would probably stroll and eat again - maybe shake things up by reading a novel in the sand or taking a dip in the sea. I do have one regret - apparently the snorkeling in La Paz is THEE best (and world famous and "duh... you didn't know that?"). But there's that pesky cost of excursions we had to consider in addition to Stu, the witless wonder of a cruise director, giving us grave warnings about the possibility of cold weather that day. Can I tell you how it was a balmy, beautiful, 80 degrees'ish? Stupid Stu. 

And what Cruise post would be complete without an update on The Spartan! First, I know that many of you are thinking "please please say you got a picture with this hottie with the naughty body PLUS accent." Well... okay. I didn't. LISTEN! I am scouring Facebook and the Internet trying to find a picture. I really am! I'm doing this cyber-stalking for YOU 3 readers and so help me, I'll find one. There is one of him on his FB but er... he looks uh... crazy. Gots that crazy look in his eye. And there's no body shot to speak of which lets be honest, is the POINT of physically objectifying people for your own carnal pleasures. If I can't find a picture that encompasses his prowess and physical glory - then the back up is to imagine a muscley rugby playing Spartan in a loin cloth with a South African accent and great hair. I'm sure you have such a fantasy on deck anyway - so just make the necessary modifications to your fantasy and you'll see mine... which happened to be REAL! Oh snap.

Okay so, lion testicles. We attended our stretch class and then stuck around for Body Conditioning. I still can't decided if that was a blessing or a curse because I think I walked with a limp and hunched the rest of the cruise. It was one of those heart-pounding muscle grinding workouts that ROCK and suck all at once. While we were all attempting not to pass out and DIE, the Spartan had moved on from his daily update of NFL scores and that Vick guys athletic superpowers, and was now telling us about his families Wild Game Ranch in South Africa (add "clearly well-to-do-family" and "manly" to that fantasy list). Somewhere between my caves exploding and my biceps combusting, he explains that if we come a-huntin on his fams Wild Game Ranch and kill something (which lets be honest, that item on the bucket list was fast approaching so what luck!), then we MUST, to assert our hunterness or huntressness, either eat the animals testicles OR uterus ya know, depending on the gender. This is when the Spartan got very serious and looked us with glinting eyes, "and if you don't [eat the raw gentles]" he continues, "you'll never hunt on our game farm A-GAIN!" A hush falls over the room. I mean, talk about a Sophie's Choice! Either eat animal balls or NEVER kill a majestic Lion that looks like Aslan from Narnia again? Noooooooo!!! I can't choose! I just can't! Just... butter up that ovary and I'll take a bite! I want to kill things! All things!! BIG THINGS!

...

I asked him what would happen if I shot a human on his Ranch - and he said "same rules." Let me tell you that this moment was the first indicator that the Spartan, under his manly physique and testicle nibbling ways, had a very small sense of humor. I felt we slightly connected. I also felt like I'd met the South African Bear Grylls (Man vs. Wild - sooooo so so awesome); and that's saying something about his acute manliness. Bear drank his own urine for heavens sake! He found a goat eyeball in Iceland and boiled it in a lava-hot-spring before popping it in his mouth like... like... like a gumball! He ate GOAT testicles and slept in a hallowed out camel in Africa! Shooting a lion and eating its manhood is just another day in the life to Bear Grylls... and the Spartan... it would seem. 

Well, I guess this seems like a good time to show you a picture of him with that crazy glint in his eye. I hope I don't get sued or something for cyber-stealing this pic and showing all 3 of you. But, it's kind of a risk I'm willing to take. Because that's how I much I want you to see what I see/saw:

Oh snap! Listen, that's a pretty good depiction of this dude! Alright alright... I'll keep looking for a legit pic. Meanwhile, enjoy your fantasies.

After dinner and breadbaskets, this little buddy greeted us upon our return. I looked deep into his paper blue eyes, seeing all the creatures that came before him and all those that would come after him, and promised not only would I NOT shoot him dead, but if he should die, I would make sure no one cooked up his manly regions for an on-the-trail snack.

Until we meet again...

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