Uncategorized – Dan Goes Outside

What’s a bill when you’re at Willie’s?

As we came close to the end of my birthday celebration in New Orleans I wanted to finish it up with a delicious Seafood Boil. We find an awesome place called Willie Seafood Boil near Bourbon Street. On the corner we walked in and they sat us immediately. They were really quick about getting us in our seats and getting us a drink. As it was the last day of vacation I had my traditional double shot of whiskey and a Dr Pepper. Sipping my whiskey as I explored the menu. Leonor was checking out what the table next to us was having. A huge table a couple were sharing that looked absolutely delicious. We agreed that was the way to go. I was committed to drinking at this point and had passed all food decisions to her and simply nodded with approval when any questions were directed to me. I couldn’t see how anything could possibly go wrong for me tonight. Just enjoying some Irish whiskey in the Big Easy.

When our food came I was at first confused. Since we had not received one but two huge platters with two lobsters, some snow crab clusters, a few dungeon crab clusters, shrimp, mussels, sausage, and oh my giddy up so much food. I looked at Leonor in utter bewilderment and asked, “What did you get?” her horrified expression immediately told me she had this well in hand and everything was under control. Or maybe not. I took a moment after calculating the mountain of food to look at the price for such a large meal. I had somehow nodded a five hundred dollar boil to my table. As we explained our case to an even more confused server and manager I once again employed my nodding and motioned my hand to forget any complaint and I simply said bon appetite.

The manager seeing the mistake and how we wanted to enjoy it either way made everything awesome when he laughed and said that we may eat everything. I thought that would be impossible looking at this mountain of food. You should never underestimate the power of Irish whiskey and weed munchies in moments like this. I started with the shrimp and then after enough of those delicious morsels were cleared I finished off the perfectly steamed crab legs. Amazing… I then finished off the shrimp and then tore into the mussels. I then finished it off with not just my corn on the cob but Leonor’s as well. I will never forget the managers face as he rounded the corner just in time to see me clear my plate and give me the most dry hilarious “I told you so” stare before I shrugged the most “yeah you totally did” grin back to him before we broke out laughing and he offered us another drink which I happily accepted. It was the most expensive meal I ever paid for but I think I got more out of that meal than just amazing food. Money always comes back, but living your life, that is something you can never get back. Life is a lot like a great meal, best enjoyed in good company.

Ghosts, Beignets, and Cafe Au Lait

Some things that you have to do when you are in New Orleans is getting drunk off of a special liquor slushy called a daiquiri, I suggest the Quad shot (four extra) if you want to live dangerously as I do. I was walking by the way do not visit Bourbon Street and plan to drive. And the other thing is a ghost tour. Now, if you are reading this and you need to find a tour I recommend a very cool chap who’s name I unfortunately cannot recall in a small red box pavilion and ask him about the New Orleans night walking ghost tour. It is awesome.

After you go book your tour you need to follow the Mississippi River to this outdoor/indoor cafe called the Cafe Du Monde. It may look a little hectic because it is a place where you go in and seat yourself and another heads up, it is cash only, but it has the most amazing beignets you will ever eat in your entire life. Now, it looked busy every time I had gone so you may have to rub a shoulder or two but try to get a look inside because every time I went inside it was easy to find a table compared to outside. I think people just grab the first empty they see which is outside which makes sitting inside pretty easy. So, in case you want to grab a little air conditioning its perfect. I had an order of beignets, which is three per order, which may not sound like a lot but these things can really fill you up. Start with a single order and get it with a small Cafe Au Lait, which is just coffee and milk, simple, but delicious. It’s hard to beat a classic. After you enjoy your coffee and beignets and enjoy the music from the street. The street performers while I was there was amazing. It really added to the experience.

When you leave, and do please tip your server, exit and go towards the Mississippi and you’ll cross some rail road tracks and find yourself at a beautiful side of the bank, seeing the crescent bend that New Orleans is famous for with the great bridge in the background. You will also see the paddlewheels working up and down the river, something I wonder if Mark Twain would recognize and find cool that we still enjoy them today. Standing there an older gentleman with a guitar began playing a very beautiful almost lo-fi jam that made the entire view surreal. As I stood there listening to the music the clouds released a misty haze soaking in the moment as the wind blew over this great river.

Later that night, we made our way back out for a walking ghost tour. Now, I love tours but i had never done a walking ghost tour. I love history and I lose the paranormal so I was really stoked but at the same time I was afraid of getting too excited and then leaving disappointed. It started off in a room that was decorated to look creepy where we met our tour guide. A very cool Irish dude named Orion. Now this dude is awesome and it is not because I am Irish and so is he or that I believe that the Irish are the best story tellers in the world, though they are absolutely are. I liked him because he allowed himself to get lost in the story, to become emotionally invested on a level. The stories were also pretty wild. I am not going to tell you what they were because, as Orion said, that is his product and I do not want to give it away, but I can tell you if you book a ghost tour in the French Quarter you are going to have an amazing time. We hit several very haunted locations, one in particular was the LaLaurie Mansion.

The LaLaurie Mansion was very creepy. We heard the story and we all were like “ahh that is scary” but this spot was really weird. First, the tour guide would not get close to it. He said we could walk under the balcony and get close to it but he had no interest in getting close. Now, it wasn’t weird at that moment for me. We went through the rest of the tour which was awesome but later on we got hit with a really hard rain walking back to the hotel room. We stopped at a pub called the Voodoo Tavern. I had a delicious po’ boy and Leonor had something else. I drank a Dr. Pepper… no alcohol… After I used the lavatory I came back and sat down and was talking about this place and felt a really strong poke on my shoulder. I though something had dripped on me so I started looking on my shirt. I asked Leonor if she saw anything I was so sure something had to be there. Nothing… now I know this sounds kinda silly but it was really weird. It felt like someone had poked me as if to say, “Hey, I heard you..” and this city is so charged with the paranormal that you can feel the history every where. That night, I had a weird feeling that something was on the couch at some point but I told myself I was tired and imagining things.

If you ever find yourself on the banks of the Mississippi River make sure you pop into Cafe Du Monde for a beignet and a Cafe Au Lait and relax to the saxophone player bringing life to the busy streets stretching through the Quarter. Every corner has its own story, has its own unique history, and its just waiting to be found and explored. This place has such an enchanting energy, it’s impossible not to be drawn in to the mysterious beauty of this place. If you ever have a chance I highly recommend coming here and really letting yourself get lost in the Quarter.

Exploring Bourbon Street and a Quad Shot Daiquiri

I finally turned forty years old last week and to celebrate this well rounded number my girlfriend took me to New Orleans. I had not been to New Orleans since I was a small child so I was really excited to experience a city, that as musician, I had always heard as being a hoppin city. We left Dallas in the morning and drove which came out to be around eight hours. That may sound like a long drive but honestly with the right company it is an amazing drive. I took a longer route taking me through several small towns that were farming villages that’s main crop appeared to be sugar cane. At first I was not sure what it was because it looks like a bush but as it grows you begin to recognize it. Miles and miles of sugar cane fields slowly give way to the bayou as you drive into Baton Rouge and cross the great Mississippi River. If you have never seen the Mississippi River then I highly recommend you find the chance. Such a huge mighty river. You can see how it captivated Mark Twain to write so much about it. After crossing a huge bridge it was about another hour and a half and we came into the famous city of New Orleans.

Now, I stayed at the Hotel Indigo it’s about a five minute walk from Bourbon Street. Which is perfect, just close enough to enjoy but far enough to not have the party on your front door stoop. When we arrived we immediately dropped of our bags in our room and immediately made our way to Bourbon Street for a delicious New Orleans meal. We paced the French Quarter where I saw several palm readers and fortune tellers as well as an accordion player what felt like it was straight out of a scene of Master and Commander, that was especially awesome. The park was filled with all kinds of things like that. Eventually, we found ourselves at the Oceana, a hot spot in Nola. I remember the meal was delicious but the four shots of Irish whiskey make it hard to be specific about what exactly I ate. I know the hush puppies were amazing.

After my four shots and delicious New Orleans meal we began making our way around Bourbon Street, getting lost exploring the Quarter. It was about then that I passing the twentieth daiquiri shop when I finally asked what it was. Apparently this is a liquor slushy. I immediate thought this must be a traditional native drink of Bourbon Street and if I really wanted to immerse myself in the culture I would have to drink one. I approached and began looking at the flavors and decided on watermelon I think. I know the liquor added was vodka. I asked if we could add additional shots. Now, this is where the story gets really exciting.

“Can I get two extra shots?”

“Yes”

“Can I get three extra shots?”

“Ugh.. yes..”

“Ya know, we should probably go ahead and do four extra shots.. can we go ahead and do that?”

“Wow.. ugh.. yes, we can do that”

I began exploring the French Quarter armed with my liquored up slushy and began getting lost in Nola. We made our way to a huge beautiful Catholic Church that someone was saying something about a giraffe but I have no idea what the hell they meant and I don’t think that is totally the six or seven shots of liquor. Actually, as I write this, it may have been. The Church is extremely beautiful and sits directly in front of a large park. This is where I heard the accordion player and palm readers. I then popped in a few shops and got some cool stuff. The feeling on Bourbon Street is definitely a party atmosphere but it has such a deep soul. You can feel the history of this beautiful city all around you. It will be easy for me to remember this as one of the best birthdays I have ever had.

Editing Days in a Dallas Apartment

It has been nearly a week I believe since I have gone outside except for the occasional taco. We are getting very close to the end of this project and therefore coming to a conclusion in the filming which means I have to now start seeking an “ending”. Something to really sum up the film of this huge adventure, this David vs. Goliath of long odds.

The arrival in Dallas came immediately after New Years. Driving the sixteen hundred plus miles from my hometown in South Florida to Dallas Texas was an awesome ride. Cruising past Pensacola, Through Mobile Bay, past Louisiana, and finally arriving in Dallas, Texas. After being taken in by the breathe taking skyline and being shown to the apartment that would be home for the next eight months I took in one immediate fact. That the roads in Dallas must have been drawn by someone who had taken too much Adderall. Winding through one way streets and immense hoards of the homeless wandering around downtown almost like something out of an old zombie movie. Though this place has begin to grow on me. The friends I have made here have been some of the most amazing people I have ever met.

It is hard to believe that we are already in May and going through that month faster than anyone could have expected. I have gone ahead and purchased tickets to go to Japan with Adam and Chris. The trip we have been talking about for a couple of years is actually on the way. This November eleventh this adventure will begin just as this current one comes to a close. As I sit here now working through all the footage I have filmed for the last 5 months it is dawning on me that I will have to say goodbye to Dallas soon as well and I believe that I had forgotten what it was like to love something or someplace and then let it go. For me, personally, that’s the hardest part, the letting go. I always wish I can bring all the awesome people I meet with me, but they have their own adventures to embark upon and thus we must enjoy our time on the trail together, we all have a different camping spot we are hiking to in life so be kind, love, care for, and enjoy the other people you find on the trail. God bless you my friends, until next time.

Goatman’s Bridge in Denton, TX. No ghosts just good times.

I had been reading about and hearing stories about this location for years and even saw a few segments on TV talking about how paranormal it is. So Leonor and I decided to take a ride up there and check it out. It was a little late in the day so when we actually arrived at the bridge, which was not in a scary location at all but off a very busy intersection. So, upon arrival I pulled into the parking lot and was not too confident that I was in the right spot. It was dark, there were surprisingly a lot of cars parked here and as I was pulling in another person was pulling in behind me. I immediately thought I must be in the wrong place. We watched the person who had just parked get out of their car and start making there way down this trail. We looked at each other and decided we should go up there and take a look. It wasn’t too dark but definitely getting towards dark, still well beyond sunset but the full moon provided a lot of visibility.

I grabbed a camera and we started making our way down to the bridge. The forest around it is supposed to be haunted also with shadow figures, disembodied voices, and other strange things. I felt absolutely none of this. I did get the vibe I was strolling through a picnic area with a ghost theme attempted to somehow spook people. There was a large group of ghost hunters, I say that very liberally, as the questions were not the average questions someone would ask a ghost, like, how did you die, are you angry, tell us if your spirit is still tormented. They though felt compelled to ask Goatman if he disliked his name and that a bunch of giggly woman were bothering him by being on his bridge. But as most men are around a bunch of women like this, Goatman remained silent.

There was one group with a couple of men one of these gentlemen had what looked to be high tech ghost hunting gear, like spirit box and one of those rumba things that the light changes when a ghost is supposed to be close. He also had something with a screen where the ghost would apparently use the electrical powers to transmit a message like a paranormal text message to the ghost hunter asking the question. Knowing a ghost can text better than most of my own family makes me just LOL. Though as I walked across the bridge that is supposed to curse you when you walk to the end and tell the Goatman to follow you back felt more like a peaceful place to smoke a jay with your friends and enjoy the still river beneath you. The hiking trails did look very inviting but given it was the middle of the night at this point I chose to stick around the bridge with the paranormal experts.

In short dear friends, you may be more likely to catch a buzz and a calm breeze than a glimpse at a terrifying demon at this particular bridge here in Denton. Take this with a grain of salt but the atmosphere seemed more like a carnival environment than scary and I had no feelings of dread or strange feelings of being watched or anything that felt negative in anyway. It was actually quite the opposite, it was a very peaceful and beautiful place. I am not going to say do not check it out but do not expect a visit from the “other side” but go and enjoy a piece of history at this old truss bridge, enjoy the quiet, explore the trails, and really relax in a piece of Texas history.

Getting Lost in the Dallas World Aquarium

It was a cold and rainy day in Dallas when I made my way twenty minutes from the apartment I am currently staying in to the Dallas World Aquarium. The parking was a bit difficult but once I navigated the craziness of Dallas’ streets and parked I was surprised that the line getting into this aquarium stretched around the building, literally. Snaking its way through the alley and then finally reaching the entrance I was really surprised by how nice this place was. Just the entry itself was already impressive giving the feeling that you are walking into a jungle. Around you bamboos are roped together making homes for toucans and other brightly coloured and beautiful tropical birds. Their native calls filling the halls as we all lined up eagerly to enter. I was already getting excited and I knew it was not just me because Leonor was also getting really eager to see what was there to discover here.

When we made it past the cashier where we paid to get in we immediately see by the stairs taking you to the first level were a family of baby penguins. Just hanging out, three of them looking at us through the glass as we admired their beauty. One of them darting through the water. Those National Geographic shows are not joking, let me tell you, these birds are as fast as sports cars when they are underwater. I started going up the large spiral staircase and all of a sudden I found myself in a South American jungle. Complete with waterfalls, tropical birds, and even a tiny deer which I am sure was not a deer but looked like a deer if you shot it with that laser from “Honey I Shrunk the Kids”, what a great movie. If you haven’t seen it you have to give it a try.

Making our way through the jungle passing the waterfall looking down several stories into the heart of this portion of the aquarium we could see a large pool at the bottom with two enormous crocodiles in one area. At the top monkeys played and laughed alongside birds resting and singing in the trees. Making our way through a fog past the waterfall we approach several tanks containing brightly coloured poison dart frogs. Colours unimaginably bright: gold, turquoise, bright blue, and more. Crawling around on their leaves inside their tanks, sometimes taking a moment to see because they are about the size of a half dollar, give or take. We then passed by something that holds a very special place in my nightmares. As a boy growing up in a small town in Venezuela when my father was working there as a contractor were the stories about the anacondas. Huge snakes that have been known to eat large prey like deer, cattle, and even people. When I was hiking with my family in Canaima (may have spelt that wrong) the main thing the guide made cautioned us to be aware of the anaconda as they wait under the water and snatch their victims squeezing them to death.

Now, here before me this enormous snake, that almost looks too huge to possibly be real. Truly a monster of the jungle, an apex predator, now resting in this tank in Dallas looking back at me. Wandering past the tank we made our way down to the next floor. We were now seeing colourful fish, sunfish, clown fish, and a “Dora” fish. Then we got to Shark Tunnel that held many different sharks including the most peculiar shark that seemed to have a large saw blade for a nose sticking out of his. What was most unnerving about this shark was the mouth and how oddly human it looked. It definitely made you more uncomfortable the longer you looked at it.

We eventually wandered into an area where a huge eagle with a very large Arrium with very tall tree it was going from branch to branch from. Open to the outside air the eagle seemed happy to feel the cool breeze and almost performed when it saw people out of excitement. Another animal that almost played with the people watching was the sea otter that was the size of a large dog. Such a beautiful animal and so playful just swam past anyone who would get close splashing around to get more attention. Truly the puppy dog of the water. We went past the eagle and saw another very large enclosure with a small cat. An ocelot pacing and waiting to get fed maybe. Honestly it really reminded me of my cat, Rocket, how he would pace back and forth while I got his food out and got it ready for him.

Finally getting to the final floors we got to the penguin outdoor exhibit. The penguin is definitely one of my favourite animals and the fact that we can get so close to them was really an awesome experience. There was maybe six of them or so huddled around another waterfall just relaxing. It was really awesome being able to see so many different animals and to see them sometimes with no barrier and really enjoy their beauty. There was so much more that we saw that day that it would be more like a book if I tried tell you it all. What I can tell you is that the Dallas World Aquarium is definitely a place that you should visit and if you love nature, the ocean, and all the amazing creatures that reside in it or near it, then this a place you will want to see. I highly recommend.

The Sixth Floor at the Texas School Book Depository, Dallas, TX.

Driving to Dealey Plaza is surreal as someone who has spent years reading about this place. Nestled in a beautiful and busy part of Downtown Dallas, Texas, it takes a moment for you to realize where exactly it is you are standing. It took me a moment to find the parking area, that once you find it it is just a short walk from the Grassy Knoll. As I exit the car I look up at the old brick building standing ominously in the Texas sun. I gaze over to the Grassy Knoll and my gaze followed past the knoll to the rail road where a witness said he saw a group of men and what looked like a puff of smoke, possibly from a rifle. He mysteriously died after his testimony. Dallas Police also found several footprints and cigarette butts on the knoll.

I made my way across the parking lot to the entrance of the Sixth Floor Museum at the Texas School Book Depository Museum. The building where it it said that Lee Harvey Oswald had a sniper nest and murdered the young and beloved charismatic President John F. Kennedy. That is what the government told us for years amongst the sea of conspiracy theories and inconsistencies surrounding the death of the president. Going through the main doors we are directed to a cashier and given a ticket that grants us access to the elevator that takes us to sixth floor, now a museum in honor of the late President John Kennedy and that haunting day in American history.

Exiting the lift you walk through a short accessway passing the original freight elevator that Oswald would have used to transport the books to the storage area on the sixth floor. The books stacked in a certain way would have made it somewhat easy to make a hidden sniper nest by a window as it is posed that Oswald did but the location he selected is still something that continues to cause debate amongst theorists. As I looked out the window myself I could see that his vision would have been obstructed slightly by a large tree and that the position of the motorcade before the turn on Elm would have been a better location for a solo sniper operating by himself but Oswald didn’t do that.

The museum is a showcase of the achievements of the late President Kennedy and the life of a young Oswald leading up to the day where the tow paths would cross for the last time on this Earth. The exhibits include Oswald’s wedding ring, the sweater he wore when Jack Ruby shot him, and a historical walk through of that day that will leave you moved with its immersive experience.

Leaving I took a stroll over to the Grassy Knoll and gazed out of the white dome next to Elm street. I strolled slowly past the first X higher up on the drive. Where the first shot struck the president in the neck. A little further a more defined larger white X. The spot where the fatal shot stole the life of a president who had just started a legacy that would change the country forever.

Looking around now, the business of downtown, the families walking by, the drivers passing over the X. It is as if the history of this place rests quietly amongst those ho call this place home but never truly gone. A place renowned for conspiracy and sadness that changed a country forever.

NYE in the Wild: Lake Delancy, Ocala National Forest

New Year’s is the trip I always wait for—the one I plan hardest and look forward to most. Since 2020, it’s become a tradition: camping out the turn of the year, welcoming whatever comes next from deep in the woods. This year, Adam and I returned to one of our favorite spots—Lake Delancy, tucked away deep in the heart of the Ocala National Forest.
As with any good adventure, getting there wasn’t without its surprises.
I’d booked the site for December 30th and 31st so we could roll in easy, set up camp, and settle in. My driving, however, started on the 29th when while loading gear, Adam called—naturally I did the responsible thing and ignored it. Then came the text: “We have an issue.”
My heart skipped. I called him immediately.
With a laugh, he said, “I knew that would get your attention.” His truck repairs weren’t finished, and the truck he was using couldn’t haul the extra dirt bike Chris would need when he joined us on New Year’s Eve. This meant I needed to load my ATV, drive an hour south to Sarasota, pick up the dirt bike, head back home, finish packing, and be ready to roll the next morning.
Simple enough…
I loaded up the Foreman and headed south, hung out with Adam for a bit, strapped down the dirt bike, and made the return trip. Back home, I finished packing everything else—camp gear, food, tools, layers, and a banger play list that would leave the forest in awe, undoubtedly bringing out all natures creatures in curiosity of the awesome music. The next morning, we met at Publix, stocked up on supplies, and formed a little convoy to pick up Leonor.
This trip was special—it was Leonor’s first tent camping trip, and our first together. Sharing my favorite tradition with her was very special to me.
The drive took about two and a half hours. When we turned onto the Forest Service Road—pockmarked, dusty, and barely maintained—my heart swelled. That road means remoteness. Quiet. Freedom. We passed the familiar sign: “Welcome to the Ocala National Forest.” That sign always feels like crossing a threshold—into the bush, into God’s country, where the wild things are.
Adam had already arrived and pitched his tent. We wasted no time setting ours up, Leonor helping lay out blankets and gear since we knew the temperature would be dropping fast. As the sun slipped behind the trees, Adam grinned and said, “About time to get the fire going.”
Dinner that night was chicken thighs with squash and zucchini, the veggies chopped by Leonor and cooked to perfection by Adam. It was one of those meals that makes everyone go silent for a while—nothing but the sound of chewing, fire popping, and my occasional “Mmmmm”.
As we were swallowed by the dark, the cold had settled in hard. Around 35 degrees and falling. We walked laps around camp, half-hoping to spot the bear Adam and I had seen on a previous trip. But after several rounds, it became clear: it was too cold for anything to be moving, including Old Smokey.
Leonor and I turned in first. The rest of the night was brutal.
The temperature dropped to 28 degrees—bone-deep, painful cold. My feet ached. I shivered uncontrollably. None of us slept. At first light, I got up immediately, Adam built a fire, and we stood in the sun slowly defrosting. I’ve slept in cold places—reenactments, winter camps—but this was the coldest night I’ve ever endured.
Breakfast fixed everything. Runny eggs, bacon, cheese, Wonder Bread—Adam has this ability to create a feast anywhere we are, it is one of his superpowers. After eating, Leonor and I drove about 30 minutes into town for more firewood, blankets, hand warmers, food, and water.
Back at camp, it was finally time to ride.
We unleashed the machines and disappeared into the Ocala backcountry—Adam leading on the dirt bike, me close behind on the ATV with Leonor holding tight. Out there, far from everything, the noise of the world falls away. All that’s left is peace. Pine, sand, sky. Truly wild Florida.
After the ride, I sent the drone up and captured a bird’s-eye view of Lake Delancy and the endless green ocean of forest stretching to the horizon. It truly moves you in a way I find difficult to articulate. A feeling of adventure and beauty, awe and excitement.
That night’s dinner was ribs—the best ribs I’ve ever eaten. As the fire crackled, we counted down the final moments of 2025. In the distance coyotes howled at the moon adding a beauty and calm to the darkness of the night. When midnight hit, we all celebrated another glorious year and shouted, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Another year closed the right way.
That night, we were ready for the cold. Two socks with a hand warmer sandwiched between them, extra blankets, sleeping bag layered just right. I slept like a rock—confirmed by my snoring, which Leonor kindly pointed out the next morning. A brutal first night, followed by a perfect one.
As we packed up to leave, nostalgia tugged at me. Leonor and I took one last slow walk around Lake Delancy, and I told her stories—past trips, mishaps, and my favorite: the night we followed a black bear I’d happily nicknamed Old Smokey.
“I always see something,” I said. “I hate that this time—when you’re with me—we didn’t.”
I hadn’t even finished the sentence when a black bear cub wandered calmly through camp.
We stopped. Took photos and video. Followed at a safe distance while alerting others. Campers watched in awe as the bear passed through, unbothered, wild, and perfect. A gift from God—a beautiful sendoff.
Ocala will always be special to me. And Lake Delancy will always feel like home.
If you ever get the chance, go. You might just find paradise.

Cruise to CocoCay – Day 1

When my alarm went off at 6:30, it felt like I had only blinked. My eyelids were heavier than my own luggage. I dragged myself up, got ready, and caught a ride to Leonor’s place — we were traveling with her parents. The drive over was very pleasant, though I was given the usual send-off reminder: “Don’t get drunk and don’t embarrass yourself, Danny.” A tall order, but I felt oddly up to the challenge.
We left around 8 a.m. for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Fort Lauderdale. I didn’t mind the road trip, not at all, it was my bladder did. About two hours in, I was starting to feel my teeth float, thankfully I was rescued when Leonor’s mom called for a pit stop to pick up some snacks. After that, we were back on the highway and soon pulling into Port of call. That may be the wrong term but it sounds nice.
Once we’d shown our passports to confirm we weren’t terrorists or troublemakers, we searched for a parking space — not exactly straightforward, but I was too distracted to care. I couldn’t take my eyes off the ship. The Oasis of the Seas stood before us like a floating skyscraper, dwarfing everything around it. I had no idea just how massive it really was until later.
Pushing my bag up the gangway, I stepped aboard and was immediately swallowed by the crowd — passengers everywhere, most headed straight for their staterooms. This made using the lifts more of a practice of breathe holding and yoga exercises as fitting into the lift one would have to contort themselves into a small crack between two other blokes who were well into using their drink package, which I didn’t get this time but that’s neither here nor there.
Our stateroom was on Deck 12, starboard-side aft in shippy lingo — Room 684. I dropped my bag and practically leapt across the bed to the balcony. The door took me a minute to figure out — “very shippy” style lock again, very cool I thought to myself as I said come on Dan outsmart the door now, but once open, I was taken back by the view. It was unbelievable. We were as high as a building, part of this massive floating city.
After a quick change, Leonor and I headed down to meet her parents on Deck 9. Their stateroom mirrored ours — cozy, with a queen-size bed, a couch, a few dressers, and a small safe which I made very good use of. Once everyone was ready, it was time for lunch.
We took the lift to Deck 8, rounded a corner, and stepped into Central Park. I’m not exaggerating when I say it is a literal park — trees, plants, open sky — right in the middle of the ship. Looking up, you could see the decks rising like an apartment complex around this oasis of greenery.
A coffee shop, bakery, and pizza shop along with other restaurants and shops along the path of trees. I grabbed a coffee, Leonor got a slice, and her dad went for a sandwich. From there, we wandered toward the Boardwalk at the rear or aft in ship talk.
It was like stepping into a seaside carnival: a hot-dog stand that served not just hot dogs but huge bratwurst, a candy shop, a Johnny Rockets, and a beach shop — even an enormous water slide curling down from the ship’s top deck to the ground in the Boardwalk. Past that was the Aqua Theater, where the water shows would take place. This ship just never stopped.
After exploring, we returned to our stateroom so I could take in one of the moments I’d been waiting for: departure.
I stood on the balcony, waiting like those movie characters waving from a ship as the crowd on shore waves back. The ship’s horns sounded — several short blasts followed by one long, this was the horn sounding the ship was ready to get underway. The ship shuddered, then began to glide away from the dock, slowly at first, then faster, cutting through the harbor waters. This massive city making its way to the sea.
We passed several fishermen casting their lines, waving up at us as we waved back. The whole thing felt surreal — cinematic.
Leonor suggested a walk to the top deck, and I thought “That’s Brilliant!”. I even poured my “signature” drink: a double shot of Jameson Irish Whiskey, neat — with a Sprite on the side so Leonor could enjoy some too. Normally, I take it with Coke, but who cares about that.
We wandered around the pool, grabbed free ice cream which was amazing, and just stood there together, watching the sea stretch endlessly. The moment was still and sacred.
I remembered a line from Khalil Gibran:
“There must be something strangely sacred about salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.”
And standing there, surrounded by the smell of salt and the sound of waves, I understood what he meant.