TEST YOUR FRUIT I.Q. -- WIN BAJA FLORIDA!

This is what breakfast looked like on North Island in the Seychelles. Almost too pretty to eat, huh?

So let's turn this into a little contest. There are nine different fruits on this plate. First person to identify all of them wins a free copy of BAJA FLORIDA. You can either leave a comment below, or shoot me an email -- bobmorris@mac.com

Here's a hint: There ain't no bananas.

I SHARED A BED WITH PRINCE WILLIAM AND PRINCESS KATE

It wasn't until the second day of our visit on North Island in the Seychelles that we learned we were staying in the same villa where Prince William and Princess Kate hunkered down for their honeymoon just a few weeks earlier.

Pretty sweet digs. But the least you'd expect when the tariff is $3,000 per day. Per person.

Every now and then, being a travel writer on assignment has its perks.

There are only 11 villas on the entire island -- maximum of 44 guests with about 150 staff to look after them. Meaning, there is plenty of pampering.

One morning, my wife and I set out on a two-hour hike with the island's naturalist. It was a fairly grueling leg-stretcher, the weather quite hot. When we returned to the villa, the bath was already drawn and waiting for us, with orchids floating atop the bubbles, a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, a box of truffles nearby.

Yeah, a guy could get used to the royal treatment.

HOW TO LIVE TO 150-PLUS AND STILL HAVE SEX EVERY DAY

For starters: Get yourself reincarnated as a Seychelles giant tortoise. Meet Toby, who was one of our neighbors when we were staying on Denis Island, a 350-acre resort at the northeastern tip of the Seychelles archipelago. No one is exactly sure how old Toby is, but best guess is that he was born in the 1860s. Toby's days are pretty much the same: He munches straw, eats fruit from the noni tree and, about 2 a.m. each morning, he sidles up to one of his female cohorts and makes the beast with two backs. It causes quite the ruckus. Good for ol' Toby.

To the right is Brutus, another oldster, in the 130-year-old range, who we encountered on North Island. Giant tortoises really like having their necks scratched. But I had to assure Brutus that it was not foreplay.

The truth revealed: Rupee massage

So here's the full explanation behind that "tattoo" on my back in the previous post:

When visiting Denis Island in the Seychelles recently, I signed on for a massage in the villa where my wife and I were staying. About 20 minutes into it, the masseuse, a small woman from Bali, asked if I had any specific aches and pains I'd like for her to work on. I asked her to concentrate on my shoulders and back since I had spent some long hours contorted on airplanes.

The masseuse said: "Give me rupee."

At first I thought something kinda hinky might be going on, but then she clarified that what she wanted was one of the five-rupee coins (about 40 cents) that was on my dresser.

Masseuse: I give you rupee massage. It very good for pain.
Me: Massage away.

She took the coin and, using its edge, began scraping it on my back, with quick slashes that followed the contours of my shoulder blades and rib cage. I would have screamed like a baby had I not been biting the towel on the table and trying to act manly and all.

Masseuse: This might hurt.
Me: No shit.
Masseuse: Most people make noise when I do this.
Me: (scream muffled by towel now all the way into my mouth and halfway down my throat)

This went on for what seemed like about three days but was actually only about another 20 minutes. At which point, the masseuse folded her table, I tipped her and she was gone with the words: "No worry, scars go away after week, maybe two."

For the record, the scars lasted about ten days. And here's the deal: Haven't had aches in my back or shoulders since.