"You want one or two?" a large and boisterous Bahamian yelled from across his spotlessly clean food-stand. The stand, like all the others in the market, was colorful, vibrant, and loud. It seemed everyone in Nassau had decided to converge on this spot all at once. And we'd all came for one thing: delicious conch salad.
Paul, my partner and captain, yelled back to the Bahamian, "We want one, please!"
"One?" I asked, raising my eyebrows, "That won't be enough!" We had just trekked to the grocery store, walked back to Quintana, unloaded groceries, gone back into town to get supplies at one of the local marine stores, and toured Paradise Island. It was 2 p.m. We'd skipped breakfast and lunch, and I was hungry. One conch salad wasn't going to cut it.