Curacao

Dominick A. Miserandino
6/26/2004

A European city mistakenly crashed right in the middle of the Caribbean.

We woke up and went for breakfast. I was enjoying chocolate croissants and heard from Margherita how it wasn't "in the zone". I ordered some Eggs Benedict which I explained might put the meal "in the zone".

Across from the deck was Willemstad, Curacao.

Besides having a difficult name to pronounce, Willemstad, Curacao is also confusing because it really looks Dutch. I mean, we've been to Copenhagen, which we're told looks like Holland, so to summarize, Curacao reminded us of Copenhagen which in turn reminded people of Amsterdam... okay, forget it, that example didn't work. But it did make me think somebody picked up a European town and just dropped it in the Caribbean. Of course without the resulting damage that the lifting and dropping would cause.

Anyway, we passed the fish market which is essentially a group of the local fishing boats pulled right along the dock, selling their wares from the deck. Not for the weak of stomach unless you can handle seeing a man beat the crap out of a fish and sell it to you right there. You can walk through the town and watch the tourists buy jewelry, electronics and clothes. You can see the locals watch the people buy the jewelry, electronics and clothes.

There were two personal highlights of Curacao. The first was the Mikve Israel synagogue and Jewish Cultural Historical Museum. Okay, actually the synagogue is more amazing than the museum. It is the oldest synagogue in the western hemisphere. It has incredible woodwork everywhere and a sand floor. The sand is there to remind everybody about the Jewish exodus from Israel. Yes, the museum tells a lot about the synagogue, but the synagogue itself is a sight to see. The well-crafted woodwork can rival any major European basilica.

The second highlight was the pontoon bridge. The pontoon bridge is one of those things that everybody seems to wonder what it is until they see it. It's a bridge of pontoons. It's really that simple.

On one end of the bridge there is a motorboat that "sails" the end of the bridge to the other side, kind of like a folding arm. When the boat passes, it sails right backAt night though, it lights up and looks even prettier. We sat there watching it float open and closed a few times.

Back on the ship. we had drinks on the pool deck with an Irish gentleman. He told us a few stories of how he loves to visit Cuba and it's a shame that we can't visit. Margherita drank pina coladas, and he asked why she didn't drink margaritas. I explained it was simply a spelling issue and left it at that.

That night at dinner I'm sure I had something delicious. With the unlimited, no charge wine, the waiter convinced me to try some. He then would teach us what was "tanic" and many other words that really didn't make much more than a subliminal impact on me. After all, how can I be expected to remember all of these terms after seven glasses of wine?

Now I remember what we ate. It was swordfish. What was remarkable about it? The waiter said to me in passing, "You do know if you don't want something off the menu, you can order what you like."

Hmmmmm.