I have from ten in the morning until five in the evening to spend ashore, and I’ve planned my day very carefully. I’ve got on my comfy cargos rolled up mid-shin, my white tennis shoes for walking all day, and a black tank top. A long-sleeved button-down is in my bag in case I start to burn. I hope I’ve slathered on enough sunscreen, a bottle of which is also safely tucked away in my bag to reapply later. My hair is pulled back, and my sunglasses are perched on top of my head. Kim is still asleep in our room. I leave some headache medicine and a bottle of water next to her bed. Judging from how loudly she stumbled around last night and the smell coming from her side of the room, she’s in for one hell of a hangover today.I’m one of the first people off the ship. I can’t believe I’m stepping onto an island. I know it’s part of the United States, but this is still so foreign to me. I’ve never even been to Mexico. It was never a possibility.I swallow the lump in my throat and walk down the pier, heading left toward the Casa Del Libro, according to my map.
