St. Helena turned out to be the cruise's pleasant surprise. I'd more or less dismissed it as a throwaway port--a place we were stopping pretty much just because it's on the way. Well, it's a lovely island--dramatic rocky face, with a lush, bloom-filled mountainous interior.

Beth and I wound up joining Jan and Fred and some others to take the "ancient bus," a 1929 vehicle (we think a Rolls Royce) now tricked out to carry 14 passengers in an open-topped truck arrangement. The driver proved an excellent guide, as he skillfully maneuvered us through some pretty scary mountain roads and provided a surprisingly good narrative of what we were seeing. St. Helena is where Napoleon died in exile, so much of the emphasis was on that bit of history.

The island was lovely, and the people incredibly friendly. The only way to get there is by boat, and we were the first cruise ship this year (the next one is due in January) so the only "strangers" they get come on the monthly mail ship. With 3600 residents, our little Navigator passengers increased the population by more than 10% (I don't think many crew went ashore), and so we stood out. Everyone we passed waved and one woman came running out of her house to take our picture as we drove past (though I expect that had more to do with the odd vehicle we were in).

It was a wonderful day. We're now getting ready for "truck stop night"--the full cruisers have been invited to eat in the crew mess, with a truck stop theme.

Four sea days lie ahead. And then, Rio!