A Classic, with a Carribbean Twist

I have been pressed by some for more details of the trip. I offer you pictures, since I have been working in front of an Excel spreadsheet, matching admitted law students to current law student hosts for 492 hours and I am tired of typing. Query: Why did the exotic white bird cross the road? Answer: To get to the unsightly blue plastic rubbish bin. Duh. (And yes, Anguilla is a British Isle, so "rubbish bin" is correct. I'm not just acting snooty.) Fine, fine, the blue garbage can is maybe not the best representation of where we were. Here are some other shots: Yes, that was the view out our hotel room window. Sigh. I miss that hotel room window. And these are cacti that we saw on a hike to a secluded beach where, despite my best efforts to be cool, the sight of a dozen topless women sunbathing made me want to (a) shyly avert my eyes to give them some privacy or (b) giggle. Yeah, I'm a grown-up. And finally, from the "you have got to be kidding me" files, I present you with photographic proof of the most troubling modern use of a terribly anachronistic visual stereotype ever to be put on a liquor bottle: Yes, folks, "Rum Jumbie" was given to us as a "congratulations for visiting our resort on your honeymoon" gift. And it was deeeeelicious.