Greetings from the Isthmus of Darien! Also known as the Isthmus of Panama, this little strip of land is all that is keeping me, Penny, Captain Frye and the crew from the deep blue Pacific Ocean.
We had a fabulous time flitting about the Caribbean for a bit, principally tasting the rums of different islands. Penny got tipsy one night off Barbados and wandered into the captain’s quarters. Like a perfect gentleman — which, let’s face it, Frye isn’t, so I’ve got to give him credit for this one — he escorted her back to our cabin and never spoke about it again. But he’s been watching her a lot since. A whole lot. I can’t help thinking… But, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. I think…
In any case, we’ve left our ship behind and are trekking across land on donkeys — smelly creatures, but so far friendly and relatively painless, if you don’t count saddle sores and fleas. Still and all, this shouldn’t be too arduous a journey, and on the other coast we’ll board a vessel that Captain Frye says is already waiting there for us. Then it’s off to Tahiti, or to whatever balmy Pacific island we bump into first!
Until then, I miss you all dreadfully, and wish you were here, but I look forward to being back in the ballroom anon. Happy dancing, lovelies!