Nikki started clicking on some maps figuring out what was still possible, and we ended up celebrating her birthday in Curacao, a pretty Caribbean island off the coast of Venezuela which I had no idea existed. It's a strange place; you can order Indonesian food from a Jamaican sounding Rasta man speaking Dutch. Yes it’s a touristic island, yet it seems most people just visit for a few hours when the cruise ships stop; the locals were incredibly friendly to us as we tried to get a better taste of the island. At 10pm on the side of a street having missed the last bus to town, a lady from the tourist information center pulled up offering us a ride even though it was 30 minutes in the wrong direction. With Dutch being their first language, everyone was excited to find out Nikki is from Amsterdam; it was cool until waiters handed out menus only in Dutch, luckily I know how to ask for an English menu which seemed to impress people as well. The main pedestrian connecting the town bridge is a floating kind, with no warning motors fire up and it disconnects from shore drive out of the way of incoming boats. We drank cheap rum on a beach swimming with locals as a security guard watched over making sure nobody strayed into the water owned by the inclusive resort next door, ate some great seafood at sunset, and found out that calling someone "dushi" is a compliment in the local Papiamentu.