Cliff Diving
Across the street from the hotel was this thing they call the ocean. On Tuesday my boss, Steve, comes back to the hotel and tells us he has found a way down the rocks to the water and there is actually a spot where you can jump off the mini-cliff into the water. I was feeling some unspoken male peer pressure and quickly agreed to put on some shorts and jump in if he was going to do it (Marlboro Man joined us, too). Now, I don’t think we can call it a “cliff” but it was 20+ feet tall and I know we can’t call it “diving” because our feet hit the water first. But calling it “Smallish Cliff Jumping” does not sound as cool. Here are the photos Keely took for me to prove this is not made up.
That looks just like the seawall out back of the house my cousins live in down in the Keys. We used to do that all the time when I was a kid.
Having experienced the cliff diving thing in a 50-degree river in the Andes this summer, I can say unequivocally that it looks like you had more fun than we did.
I hate to tell you, B, but I have you beat on the cliff jumping thing. Remember, I jumped off a cliff in college that was more than twice that tall, and busted my ear drum. That was 1995 and it still has a hole in it today. It will require surgery to be fixed. So let me tell you, I one-upped you, but it’s not all that glamorous of a victory.
Your pics of the DR are amazing, and so moving. It reminds me that we need to write our child today. Thanks for being you.
Love you!
jenn (your sister, in case anyone thinks it’s weird that I love you.)