Thank goodness for reggae.

Yesterday evening's boat ride to Crete was tough to say the least. I could tell from the moment we boarded the ferry that it would be far less smooth of a ride than the ships instructional video indicated. I couldn't have chosen a better seat either. Soon After departing, Sean was experiencing sea sickness at its worst and he was one of the first to use the fancy little foil bags tucked neatly into the seat backs. Sean's bag had a hole, and soon his vomit was in a pile on poor Christine's lap. As I was already quite nauseous from the rocking of the boat, seeing this happen did not help my sickly state. I had to quickly turn away, and that was when I discovered how well the barf bags served as a fan. Not only was I having a difficult time handling the rocking, but what really gets to me it the smell. I know that Chris doesn't usually get sea sick either, but he too at the sight of Sean's sickness became ill. The next thing I new, I had both Sean and Chris in my row, heaving away. It was more than I could take. Chris recalled later the look on my pale face as I quickly turned me head away to avoid watching the nightmare, cranked up my Bob Marley and increased the speed of fanning. The poor stewardess who worked the ship was darting here and there, collecting the foil bags, as Christine repeatedly shouted "more bags, paper towel, now!!!" How did Christine manage to avoid puking as she simultaneously helped Sean and Chris who were on either side of her, heaving away. I must have seen about 5 bulging green garbage bags, full of vomit, carried down the aisle just on that 2 and a half hour ferry ride. After such a traumatic trip I am very surprised that I was one of the few who held onto my cookies. All I can say is: Thank goodness for Reggae, Gravol, and the barf bag fan. I slept like a dog that night, a dog who had gone through the washing machine 3 times.