Today was one of the most interesting adventures EVER! This morning we arose to the knocking at the door for breakfast. Logan stepped out of the loo to answer the door, since I was still abed. When he opened the door, the tray crashed to the pavement (they’re really going to hate us by the time we leave), because the woman who delivered the try was the Mum of the boys who kept trying to sneak another peek and she was not ready for a naked Logan to open the door. All I could hear was “Aw LAWD ya’ll gon gib me da fits! Git yosef sum britches own!”
Well, that began the giggling for me today and it only got better. We met the Rev at the designated time and there was a carriage awaiting us that looked like the one in the photo. The Rev and I sat on the forward facing seat and Logan sat on the other seat. Off we went on the tour of this beautiful city! I listened to the driver tell about the history of the city, pointing out some of the more interesting buildings, and I learned that if someone offers you Oleander Tea don’t drink it because they are trying to kill you.
As we clopped around the historical part of the city, the horse, not one to be bashful, didst pass wind with such force that Logan thought his head was aflame. The stench was such that his eyes would not stop watering for several blocks. The driver, nonplussed by this burst of equine flatulence, kept right on telling us about the row of colourful waterfront homes called “Rainbow Row.” As we were passing a peach coloured one, we recognized it as the one where we had been invited for tea. We saw the sweet gentleman and he waved to us telling us to come for tea on the morrow at 4:00.
After our carriage tour, which I would HIGHLY recommend, the Rev took us to lunch. He drove through the city, across a bridge, and into a neighborhood. We assumed he was taking us to his home or the home of a friend. But when he reached the end of the street and turned onto a dirt path, it got us more than a wee bit anxious. Finally, we came to a stop in front of what appeared to be a warehouse of some sort.
As it turned out, this unassuming structure is a restaurant called “The Wreck.” They only open for lunch and dinner, but once the day’s catch is gone, they close for the day. The catch comes right off the trawlers. I had the crab claws and fried shrimp, having not had fried shrimp before. The Rev. ordered something that came with corn on the cob, covered with shrimp, some unidentifiable meat substance, and potatoes. Logan ordered the fried fish with chips. And OH…..MY……..STARS! It was delicious! And the beer (which I am FINALLY getting accustomed to ice cold beer) was locally brewed and so refreshing!
We had a wonderful time of just chatting each other, with no therapy or guidance on the Rev’s part. Or so I thought! After lunch, we were taken to visit the USS Yorktown. On the way, the Rev commented on how much more relaxed and at ease we both were. He told us how proud he was of us for taking the time and effort to take this journey seriously and for accepting that WE are the owners of our lives now. And that ownership means that if we fuck it up, it’s all on us now. We should make amends and keep living forward. His approach has always been gentle but firm, wise but not cliche, he made US think for ourselves instead of telling us what to think. He counseled us without us realizing it most of the time. And he held us accountable, if he asked us to do something to help with this process, he made sure we did it.
But back to the USS Yorktown…..What a HUGE ship! That is until you get down to the crews’ living area. I laid on one bunk and Logan laid on the one above me and his mattress was touching my nose. NO THANK YOU! I will NOT be joining anyone’s Navy any time soon! But there was a sense of respect about the ship. Every corner seemed to ooze respect for those who crewed her during some of the most horrible times of war. There was a place near the exit where the names of the lost seamen were listed, I felt compelled to stop and offer a prayer (such as I could) thanking these brave souls for their service and my hope they have now found peace.
On the ride back to the inn, the Rev asked how we felt about the tour of the Yorktown. We both said that it must have been terrible to be in the middle of the ocean during wartime knowing a submarine or an airplane or accident could harm you. The stress must have been so intense! Then he stopped the car, looked at both of us and said, “What you have just described has been your lives for so long. And now you are able to recognize it, face it, and deal with it. All you needed was to know you aren’t alone and that you are okay.”
I’ll just say, I have SUCH a respect for this man that words fail me!