Author and travel and travel journalist Jennifer Cox appeared on "Good Morning America" to discuss her new book, "Around the World in 80 Dates." In it, Cox recounts her effort to find Mr. Right by globetrotting from country to country and date to date.
Here's part two of an excerpt from Chapter 3:
The water in question was part of the Scandinavian southern archipelago, where the North Sea forms Kattegat, a wide channel between Sweden and Denmark. Even while I was concentrating on my soothing mantra of "don't be sick, don't be sick," I could appreciate it was intensely beautiful. We knifed through the clear water; the sharp-edged waves from our boat had turned to gentle ripples by the time they reached the shores of the tiny islands we passed. I could hear the local children chatter and laugh as they milled around in rock pools and dived off rafts into the cool water. Behind them, pine trees crowded down to the boulder-studded shoreline, like kids around an ice cream van. The occasional tiny red stave house peeped shyly from between branches, pristine white roof bright against the deep green of the needles. We flew across the clear blue water; the air felt clean and fresh. I was both nervous and excited: I felt sure this was the final leg of the journey before Anders and I would meet.
Some of the tension must have shown on my face. Martin, sweetly misunderstanding, took one hand from deftly skimming the boat from tip to tip of the bouncing waves. "Don't worry," he shouted over the noise of the engine and crash of the water, touching my arm reassuringly and frowning with concern. "We have all been told you get very, very sick on boats and I am to watch and see if you will vomit."
I smiled weakly and wiped some of the salty spray from my face to hide my embarrassment, as we plowed ever onward into the surf.
Half an hour later, I was watching a cluster of tacking boats filled with orange-life-jacketed children learning to sail. I reflected on how wonderful it would be to grow up having sailed dinghies, ridden horses, or hiked and biked mountains virtually from the age you could walk. In England, it seems everyone has watched TV or idled in traffic from the age we could sit. I snapped out of my ruminating: The roar of the engine had become a gentle purr. Martin had slowed the boat and was standing at the wheel, scanning the horizon.
"Are we lost?" I asked, suddenly really nervous about meeting mysterious Anders. Maybe going back to the hotel, having a big bath, and catching up on sleep wouldn't be such a bad thing.
"No," Martin replied politely, but preoccupied as he eased the boat through a rocky channel, all the time scanning the horizon. "They are here somewhere."
Where the hell am I being taken? I suddenly thought crossly. Why didn't Martin know where they (THEY?) were? What was next? To get into a submarine? Who was the goddamn date with -- Captain Nemo?
I was starting to get impatient. Enough was enough. Let's get on with the date or take me back to the hotel so I can watch cable and be as one with the minibar.
But at that very moment, Martin pushed the throttle down on the boat and we sped forward: He had spotted them.
I was about to meet Anders.