The only thing to do when you're surrounded by negativity is to drop everything and go somewhere tropical, ideally on someone else's dime.
I could post a million photos -- photos of how I interacted condescendingly but lovingly with the locals, how imperiously and without thought we donned sacred ceremonial headdresses for an amusing drunken romp on the beach, photos of Fi's truly unfortunate-looking boyfriend with the male-pattern baldness and the paunch but the magnificent bank account.
Instead, I'll leave you with minimalism. This is really all you need to know, and all I'm really anxious to show you anyway. Tell me how gorgeous it is.
Back home this week, more's the pity. Tarquin's going to dump Fiona because she won't dress up "like a native woman" or something, so I'm sure there will be lots of drunken evenings to clean up and lots of scary men to shoo out the door.