Today started grey with lots of clouds and intermittent rain storms. But the skies cleared up through the morning and by noon it was sunny and warm.
We headed out to Cupecoy Beach on the western side of the island. We found a secluded spot with absolutely breathtaking views, fine white powdery sand, and aquamarine seas. I spent most of the afternoon in the Caribbean saltwater which rhythmically pounded my aching muscles as effectively as any trained masseur.
The beach wasn’t very crowded — a group of 50-something lesbians camped out in their lounge chairs under their umbrellas, an elderly couple down the beach aways sunbathing nude, a random person here and there.
Picked up this piece of coral and shell in the surf and sand of Cupecoy Beach.
We then watched stared and chuckled laughed at Chris and some pretentious little gay boy from DC he just met as they cavorted along the beach, kissed in the ocean surf in the most unctious way and then groped each other underwater.
Too funny.
It was a relaxing few hours nonetheless.
We dropped Gregg’s Mom off at the airport at around 3:30PM for her flight to Miami. After, we drove north into the French side of the island and found the delightful row of shops and restaurants and villas along the narrow streets of a small enclave known as Grand Case. The sun was setting when we stopped for ribs and red snapper and creole shrimp at an open air BBQ on the street. For 60euro total we got plates full of rice and beans and salad and fish and shrimp and ribs – and it all tasted so good! Got some great photos of the locals, a horse being bathed in the ocean, and the sun setting over the hills to the south and west.
The french side of Saint Martin is a marked contrast to the Dutch side. It seems to be more beaten up by Irma or taking longer to recover or both. The hills and valleys are more scenic and the vistas more interesting. The Dutch have always been a practical people, as we learned during our Rhine cruise last year. They are no-nonsense get-it-done folk, whether it involves keeping their homeland from flooding by the rivers that run through it or recovering from a catastrophic hurricane. The French – well they may be a romantic people but i think they are more interested in chatting over an espresso about what has to happen than actually doing it. The contrast in results speak for themselves.
Chris departs tomorrow and then it will be just Gregg and me through the weekend before we return to Boston on Monday. I’m hoping we can get the ferry to St. Bart’s and find an art gallery or two before we leave. Still plenty of time but it’s difficult to believe we have been here a week already. I wouldn’t mind staying the rest of the winter!
