VACAYA, Atlantic Ocean.
‘I am a gay cruise virgin,’ I tell someone dressed as Eartha Kitt drinking a Long Island Ice Tea through a straw so as not to spoil lips that have taken an aaaaage to apply, even though it’s only halfway through the afternoon. And hot in that sun! ‘Please be gentle with me.’
Not that this is strictly speaking a gay cruise, you understand, even though the sheer numbers of men dressed in something a) very tight and revealing or b) very flamboyant
