This is my favorite photo from a recent work trip to Aruba. Everything about it spells honeymoon cliche. The girl with the perfect ass turning her iPhone on herself for the umpteenth shot of the afternoon. The bad-form water skier being pulled just offshore, I can only imagine the sore muscles he woke up with the next day. The catamaran prepping for yet another sunset booze cruise. The beach cratered with footprints. Aruba is a mass resort sort of destination, brimming with all-inclusive hotels, time shares and American tourists content to have Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast and down margaritas at Señor Frog’s for the rest of the day. The beaches are pretty, yes, but no nicer than what you’d find in Fort Lauderdale or Miami. I’m glad I went, but the island is probably the first place I’ve been that I can truly say I have no desire to visit again.