St. Maarten

Angie and I flew to St. Maarten via Charlotte and took a taxi from Princess Juliana Airport to the Royal Palm Beach Club. We walked into the lobby and saw the pool (outdoor) ahead of us. Liz left a note for us at the desk saying she was in the pool. We found her and all went up to our fifth-floor suite with a front door and bedroom window on the lagoon side and a picture window and balcony on the pool-and-ocean side. We drank in the view. After Angie and I unpacked a little and got settled, the three of us walked down the bumpy dirt shoulder of the road to the Daily Extra supermarket for groceries. Then, across the road from the hotel, we had freshly-caught dinner at Lee's Roadside Grill: Liz had the smallest lobster available, a two-pounder for $40; Angie had ribs; and I had a grilled Mahi Mahi that we all agreed was delicious. We took a dip in the pool after dark.

We took a bus to Marigot. It was our first of many bus rides this week. The buses are actually vans, each with its own character ("please don't slam door" sign, custom wood paneling, stuffed boxer doll hanging from rearview mirror, etc.) and type of music (reggae, country, merengue) tuned in on the radio, reflecting its driver.

In Marigot we followed Liz from shop to shop. Passing a cemetery, we were intrigued, entered it and walked around, looking at flower-design tiled crypts, decrepit graves with dirty lace rags, conch shells, and fallen flower vases, scurrying lizards and a hen with chicks, broken crosses and empty vaults, fringed everywhere with weeds and tropical plants. We stopped at an outdoor café by the marina, then walked around the marina lined with open-air bistros and shops to a Haitian art gallery. Liz and Angie sifted through postcards.

We read menus along the marina, hawked by waiters. Angie asked a clothing store clerk for advice and she wholeheartedly recommended the Tropicana, an open-air French restaurant on the marina. She convinced us and didn't lead us wrong. Angie had a seafood salad, Liz had salmon in raspberry sauce, and I had snapper with parmesan crust and basil sauce. It ended up being our best meal of the week (or year!). We finished with delicious fruit and pastry desserts and complimentary shots of Grey Goose vodka flavored by the house (orange rum?).

We bussed back to the hotel. Angie and I swam in the ocean by the hotel. We stayed in for dinner. Angie and I took a short walk along the beach and around the hotel after dark.

We walked down the road to Top Carrot for coffee then caught a bus and rode past Marigot to Grand Case. Grand Case had that (not quite) deserted feeling of a small, isolated town (or resort in off-season). We swam in the ocean, then walked along the beach, which was bordered by restaurants and villas. We walked back down the main street looking for a good restaurant and stopped at La California for lunch. Angie had another seafood salad, and Liz and I had pizzas. After another short swim, we waited for a bus, and transferred buses twice to get back to the hotel.

Liz went down to the lobby (and I accompanied as cameraman) to compete in the women's category of the arm wrestling contest. The clerk at the desk laughed and said they haven't held that (supposedly weekly) contest in a long time. Angie and I scraped out the last crumbs of lobster (leftover from Monday night) and fed it to Nipper--our name for the resident cat.

Liz, Angie, and I climbed out on the line of boulders on the beach to admire the colors of water and sky just after sunset.

We took a bus down the peninsula past the airport to Mullet Bay beach. We swam and sat on the beach. In the water, we watched butterflies fly in toward shore from the ocean. On shore, a bird chirped beautifully in a palm overhead. Its song was new to Angie (our resident ornithologist). Two birds hopped along the ground around our blanket under the low trees, scavenging for food. We had tasty barbeque chicken and ribs from a beach vendor.

We walked back to the main road along a parched, scrubby golf course and past empty, dilapidated apartments. Across the street from the big new Maho Resort building, we got beverages in a Starbucks. Then we crossed the street and caught a bus back to our hotel but got out on the near side of the drawbridge because Liz wanted to go to Suzie's Antiques. Angie petted a cat lying on its side on a table in the shop. We left Liz in the shop, and she rejoined us a little while after we got back to our suite.

In the afternoon, we took a bus to Philipsburg, a shopping hotspot for tourists from cruise ships. Front Street was lined with souvenir shops, jewelers, liquor shops, jewelers, clothing stores, and more jewelers. We went in one after another, including the official Guavaberry liquor shop. Turning around and heading back the other way, we searched for a restaurant for dinner. I wanted to find an Indonesian restaurant. It seemed all the interesting restaurants opened later, and I was hungry. We walked to the one Indonesian restaurant we knew of, but it was closed until much later. We finally decided just to go back to our hotel where we knew there were restaurants open. So we ate at Warung Bali, just across the road from our hotel. Liz and I enjoyed our dinners, but Angie's vegetarian dish was a disappointment. But we shared as usual, so everyone got a taste of something good.

Liz wanted to take it a little easier than we did yesterday, and so did Angie. Liz wanted to go to Philipsburg, and Angie wanted to go to Mullet Bay. I wanted to pack as much into the day as I could, so we agreed to split up the day: I would go to Mullet Bay with Angie in the morning and Philipsburg with Liz in the afternoon.

Angie and I took a bus to Mullet Bay and walked along the beach. We swam. Angie was "Bob" because she bobbed in the water, and I was "Shelly" because I was pulling shells out of the water with my hands and feet. Angie lay on a lounge chair and I sat in the sand for a while. Then we went back in the water. The white seagulls flying overhead looked aqua from the reflection of the water. We took a bus back to our neighborhood and stopped near our hotel for Indian food at Shanker, a small shack near Suzie's Antiques, dim inside, with the front door open to the road, and dusty plates that we wiped with napkins, but good food. We brought leftovers back to our suite.

Liz and I bussed to Philipsburg. We bought $3 T-shirts from outdoor vendors on Back Street. We went to the African art shop and looked at the hundreds of ebony carvings. In other shops, I got a sample bottle of Guavaberry liqueur; Liz got perfume. I took photos. We walked out on the pier where boats transport passengers to and from the giant cruise ships out in the harbor. We returned to our suite and ate dinner in.

I went for a swim alone and got stung on my wrist and leg by (apparently) a jellyfish that I never saw. I got out of the water in a hurry. We packed up and checked out, leaving some of our food and belongings in the courtesy suite downstairs, a suite shared with other departing guests. Then we took a taxi to the airport to check luggage and pay our exit tax to expedite our departure later in the afternoon when the crowds clog the airport. We returned by bus to the hotel and swam in the pool. In the courtesy suite, Angie and I showered and ate leftovers for lunch. Strangers were in the living room and one of the bedrooms, watching TV. Another stranger accidentally walked in on me in the bathroom. A stranger was in the kitchen with Angie while she prepared lunch. Strangers came in and out while I ate lunch in a bedroom. It was weird. But by the time Liz came in to shower, the three of us had the place to ourselves except for other people's luggage.

We silently said good-bye to our home for the week and took our last bus ride--to the airport. Angie and I said good-bye to Liz, and Liz went through the checkpoint to the gates because her flight was an hour earlier than Angie's and mine. It was crowded, not easy to find a seat in the waiting areas. I went to the restaurant for coffee while Angie rested on the floor, against a wall, in a waiting area by the checkpoint. I watched small planes come and go while I drank my coffee. We went through the checkpoint to the gate waiting area, which was jam-packed. We waited in a corner until some seats opened up for us. Soon we boarded the plane and departed.

Life

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