Barbados did not work out the way we expected. Lindso and I planned to catch a cab to the capitol city of Bridgetown, rent a car, and spend the day driving a lap around the island. We got into a van full of cruise passengers heading towards Bridgetown, and were informed that Prime Minister David Thompson had died of cancer the previous week, that today was his funeral, and that the entire country was closed for business to attend. No rental cars available.
Some guys in the back of the van had a plan to go to some swanky resort with a beach. Since that was where the van was headed, and we were already in the van, that's where we were headed. After an hour ride, "The Crane" resort told our van to get lost. Chaos ensues.
Our driver mentions his birthday is Monday. My birthday is Monday. The cabbie is exactly twenty years older than me to the day. Strange.
Finally, with our newfound friends Arie and Karine we got a ride "Cutters" restaurant. Arie immediately orders a round of rum shots to celebrate finding any business open on Barbados.
And then another round. And then Banks beers. And then rum punch. Did I mention it's only 10am? We finished lunch, purchased every cold Banks beer the owner had, borrowed his cooler, and then he even drove us to the beach!
Crane Beach was indeed fantastic. 
And a cooler full of Banks and rum punch didn't hurt. The rest of our van companions were please to have beer delivered.
Soon it seemed like a good idea to climb a tree.
It was like living a Corona commercial. Except with Banks.
