Our first day was at sea and it didn’t take long to get comfortable. 

When the day’s activities arrived in our cabin mailbox, we perused the selections with skepticism. We could hardly picture ourselves joining in a quiz about pasta varieties in the grand bar or a salsa class by the pool. Could we really listen to a lecture on body fat in the spa or partake in a hula hoop contest with the “animation” team? What was this Kellerman’s circa 1963?

We settled into the pool loungers to have a good laugh at the retirees shaking their booties in earnest. But within minutes an unexpected evolution of thinking occurred. Those maroon-haired ladies were not self-conscious and awkward. Somehow in spite of their leopard print sarongs they were free from irony. Their gyrations had transcended ridicule. We were not smug. We were jealous! We must join in!

We now peruse the activity newspaper with delight, determined not to miss another moment of unapologetic fun. Paso doble in the grand bar? Check. Geography quiz in the lounge? Check. Italian grandma cooking contest looking for a judge? Check. All I can do is cross my fingers and pray that there is a final dance number that we can jump into. We’ve been practicing both the mambo and the pachanga just in case.

Dirty Dancing References: 2