Before there was Aruba...

I don't think I have actually told the story of what happened the week before I left for this trip. About 6 months ago, I asked three friends to join me in Aruba at my time share. B & E, who are married, and Hans, we have all known each other for the past 10 years.
The week before the trip, I could not get a hold of B & E, who were also no shows at my 40th party. I had heard from Hans, that they might be having marital problems. Both he and I tried relentlessly to get a hold of them. No return calls, no e-mails etc.. So as Hans and I boarded the plane on Friday, despite being p***ed off, we were still hopeful that they just might show.
No such luck. We boarded, him in coach and me in first class, which was my birthday gift to myself.

So, it's me and Hans. He golfs A LOT and I lie on the beach A LOT. In the evening we go to dinner and then maybe to a bar. Each night one of us chooses a local restaurant. It's actually been kind of nice , no worries, no drama and Hans and I have a good respectful relationship.

Hans has his own room complete with his own bathroom and efficiency, which would have been where B & E where to sleep, leaving him to the couch. But becasue they didn't show, bonus for him.

I have my own room, with balcony etc... We share common space with the kitchen, living room and dining room. Actually we each have a balcony off our respective bedrooms that overlooks the city and the ocean. Completely amazing.

Upon arriving, and after traveling most of the day, we just kind of took it easy and sat out on the balcony while we watched the sun go down and the city light up like a Christmas tree. Caribbean music played in the distance below.

After awhile I went into my room and lit my travel candle (gift from Caroline) changed into my lounging pj bottoms and then went back ou on the balcony..to the warm, breezy, beautiful night, where you could actually see Orion's belt in the sky.

I decided it ws time for a refresher on the cocktails. I grabbed ahold of the handle on the sliding door and pulled. Hmm, damn, this door is hard to open. I give it another attempt, this time with both hands and nothing. I look over at Hans and laugh (in panic sort of way) as I say "Uh, why don't you give this a try." He gets up and pulls, nothing. He tries again, nothing. Oh shit! We are locked out! I then burst into hysterical laughter saying "Are you kidding me?!"

While Hans continues to try to pry open the door. I go into survival mode. My mind begins breaking it down..Well, we are on the 9th floor, there is no one walking the area for us to scream and yell, "Hey we are locked out!" to. Should we throw the patio furniture into the glass and break it or scale down the balcony. Who the hell am I kidding? We are nine floors up and I can't possibly jump over the railing in pj's and flip flops and by the way, Hans, I find out, has a fear of heights. It also hits me, the candle in my bedroom! By now it has got to dangerously close to being nothing but liquid with a large flame ready to ignite the lampshade on my nightstand. Well, the upside is most likely a fire is bound to break out and we will be rescued.

While I am going through the worst case scenarios in my mind, Hans still pulling hard on the door almost lifting it out of it's tracks when suddenly without warning it breaks open, however not without taking the hinges with it.

But...Hey, we are in! No fires, no worries and no more shutting any of these doors completely when we go out on the balcony.

For your viewing pleasure I have attached some more pics. These are from Sunday.

The Palapa's on the beach

Me, my Chex mix and my beach reading material

Dinner at the Amazonia, where you eat 16 diferent cuts of meat, pork, and chicken