My bath took longer than expected. Apparently my servants obey the "lather, rinse, repeat" rule, which I must remember to abolish. In fact, there are many laws here which seem completely absurd and archaic, but I am trying not to rule with an iron paw by massacring the constitution within my first year as exiled monarch. In the meantime, the garrapata situation is getting under control, but occasionally I see one of my blue blood-sucking tenants thrashing helplessly on the floor next to me. I have no mercy on these parasites.
One of the first items of business upon arrival was to survey my new land. Since a kingdom is powerless and doomed without access to the ocean, I immediately summoned my coachman to take me to the coast so I could witness my mighty fleet. To my dismay, an armada it was not--just a few pathetic fishing vessels with a drunken sailor as their captain. As I looked out over the Pacific (see photo), I cursed the jester and the maiden for having made a mockery of my royalty. But I could see my empire was vast, and it needed a mighty king to lead it to victory.
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