It's a long trip to the Abacos. Or Los Abacos, as I like to call them when I'm speaking Spanish. You have to ride on a small propellor plane that's about 30 years old with a moaning engine that gets loud and soft, loud and soft like any moment it's going to stop altogether. I know I seem like the fearless type, but when we passed over the ruins of a plane wreck, I thought my dear reader, that I might never write to you again.
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Naturally the first thing I did when I arrived was to get a massage to soothe my nerves. Can you hear the waves crashing in the background?
After this I had a rum punch, which is what the natives drink. Look at this cutie.
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Assuring you that your most
devoted friend will relate more of his Bahamas adventures
in the next installment,
I remain,
Mickey
2 comments:
Is Leguana your girlfriend?
No!
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