Traveling Light

It was quite the vacation.

I'm not even talking about the exciting and disappointing ending.  It was just a really nice vacation, the first in years, and I didn't realize until I got there- I'm rusty.  Due to the unexpected theft of my luggage on the last day, I don't have many pictures with me to show for it.  But they're on their way- they're on Jeff's laptop safe and sound, thank goodness.  I'll give a brief overview of the trip.  A picture show is sure to follow.  :)

We started out at the airport watching the planes land over the beach nearby.  It was pretty intense!  The waves were HUUUUGE!  The slope on the runway was very steep, so the crest was easily 15 feet.  I was really impressed- New Englanders never see waves that big.

And it was WARM.  Heavens, it was heavenly.  My first day out I landed a complimentary sunburn on my feet, which I didn't mind one bit.  I was very careful with my SPF 50 everywhere else...my coworkers swear I've gotten paler.  :P

The airport is on the Dutch, or south side, of the island.  I was actually pretty disappointed in that side...it was all casinos and run down and very urban. Not even urban city.  It was urban ghetto... but the next day brought us to Phillipsburg where I was able to get my forgotten prescription replaced for 20% cheaper than the US, and I found the locals extremely friendly.  Everyone said good morning, or hello, or bon soir. It was just surprising that there was so much trash in what would otherwise be gorgeous locations...like they took the island for granted.  I hope someday the local government gets organized enough to change that.

Our apartment was on the eastern side of the island in Oyster Pond, just over the French border.  I think we died and went to Heaven in that moment... it was impeccable...and for half the price of a hotel.

Probably the most exciting part for me, other than the view, was my very own chicken!!  I love that chicken.  She made happy noises and pecked my bread crumbs.  We had breakfast together almost every morning.

 Someday I will own a chicken.

Jeff enjoyed his complimentary cat as well.

We ate out 2 nights, but were blessed with a kitchen and so enjoyed a couple meals at home, in the 80 degree evening air, listening to tree frogs and the waves below, and watching movies on our private deck.  The other two nights were spent near the apartment and Orient Beach, where I had crepes for dinner at the BZH Creperie.  A-MAZE-ING.  It reminded me of eating my way across Europe.

In the mornings we got a baguette at the local bakery and I got to PRACTICE MY FRENCH.  This was such a kick.  Not only did I remember more French every day I was there, the woman at the bakery was thrilled to teach me more French, and complimented me for speaking their language.  She said she's not used to Americans speaking French, which I understand.  I was so nervous I didn't want to offend her by speaking it wrong, but she was encouraging and it was wonderful.  Jeff will attest that I beamed each time I opened my bouche.  ;)

We did plenty of driving around.  We went to Orient Beach, where the famous naturalist beach is located, and found a blowhole on the far side.  We went to Anse Marcel on the northern edge, which was on a resort.  Since it's illegal to block access to the beaches on St. Martin, we enjoyed pristine sands and crystal clear waters in an unbelievable setting, surrounded by tree and shrub-filled mountains which blocked the wind.  I made a nude sand person for fun.

We went snorkeling and found a few fishes, sea anenomes, and I swear I saw a shark pass by us silently in the bright waters.  Visibility wasn't stellar, but it was lots of fun anyway.  Underwater pictures are hard to capture- it's hard to see the viewfinder and it's hard to stop moving.  Fish are also not so great at posing.  But we got a couple shots.

The French side also had farms and grazing animals for their expanses of grasslands... it was lovely.

We drove up to the top of the island and walked a tiny trail off someone's backyard.  The trail led to a rock, which you stood on, to get an amazing view.  At another beach (we spent a while looking for "Happy Bay" but never got there...so we stopped at a random spot nearby to look around).  Jeff surprised me by finding a conch shell!  I was really impressed, and chagrined for getting frustrated by the driving and looking for Happy Bay (which we have since renamed "frustration bay"). 

The French part of the island is very beautiful.  So beautiful that we were lulled into a false sense of security.  We had been warned not to leave ANYTHING exposed in our car.  Nothing.  "They will break in for a coin," our landlord said.  She was sadly correct.  On my last day in St. Martin, all packed up for the airport, we took a wandering drive towards the airport.  Near Coconut Cove we stopped at an inlet, and marveled at it's beauty, it's plethora of conch shells (to Jeff's eagle-eye disappointment...Hey Jeff!  I found one!) and its mangroves.

All the white spots are conch shells

Mangroves

We saw conch fishermen come through, breaking the tops in order to pull out the animal from inside.  Without the hole in the top, the snail can overpower the suction to get him out.  This explains why all our conchs were broken, as well as the many that decorated the apartment.  We did find a couple live ones, however, which was exciting.

Back at the car, we opened the trunk...and found that Jeff's bag, my winter coat, and all my luggage had been stolen.

It's a funny thing when you get robbed.  There's a shame in it.  I think because it's such a sad thing, and the person hearing the story is instantly sad for you.  There's also a shame that we've been stupid, leaving so many valuable things in the car.  Jeff's door had been forced, the lock broken, and the back seats pulled forward.  They weren't thinking about what they took, and other than a few items, they really didn't get much for their trouble.  But it couldn't have taken more than a minute.  The current theory is that it's local kids, possibly paid to break into vehicles for a more experienced seller.  When the only industry is tourism, poverty forces acts of frustration.

Jeff was devastated.  "...we were robbed..." he said in a small voice.  He felt so responsible, and it wasn't anyone's fault.  We secured our stuff and locked the car.  But hindsight is 20/20- we shouldn't have parked there.  I was left with the clothes on my back, my sister's wool scarf, and my polar fleece, which was the most valuable thing of all, because my wallet, money and passport were carefully zipped into the front pocket.  Jeff's wallet was in his pocket.  He also lost a bag, with his jeans, a jacket, shoes, GPS and some other things.  They left his brand-new snorkel gear behind.

We were so lucky. 

Obviously, we are hurt.  I was deflated completely.  I lost my best dress.  My good sandals.  My itouch.  My cell phone.  I lost my souvenirs, my Christmas presents, my new beach towel.  I lost borrowed books and books to learn French.  I lost my arrogance that such a beautiful place held no danger.

But we did not lose our pictures, or my passport, or our wallets.  We were not hurt and the car was not seriously damaged.  We went into damage control, and I can do well in a crisis.  We went back to the apartment to regroup.  Maryse, our landlord, was so sweet she offered me her shoes for my wintery arrival, which didn't fit.  I promised we'd be back, and said our goodbyes.  Off to Phillipsburg to find long pants and shoes for the snow.

Me and Maryse

Contrary to the above image, I'm pretty angry at the state of the island security system.  It's clear that there's a double standard... the government knows about the crime but does little to discourage it.  The car rental agency knows about it, the police, the locals...but they don't care, and I'm not naive enough to assume they're not connected.  So 2 hours later, with food, new jeans and a magazine, I was on a plane back home.  Jeff waved goodbye from the beach.

I'll tell you one thing, traveling with a single bag is really convenient.

Traveling Light

Most of you got the call that I was locked out of my apartment and looking for Bob.  I found an internet cafe in Philly and frantically searched for my local friend to let me in.  I never found Bob, but I was so grateful to get the emails of support from everyone.  I was really shook up... and I'm just now starting to calm down.  It's good to be on solid ground in familiar territory.

I'm realizing how much has changed in the 13 years since I've traveled.  Email is different.  In Europe the netcafe's were everywhere.  Pay phones were everywhere.  Actually, in St. Martin there were the same Visa-taking phones I used when I landed in Heathrow in 1996.  But there was no internet cafe in Boston for me to use in an emergency.  It's expected that you have a phone and a smart-device to access the internet.  I had to borrow a land line from a very uncomfortable-looking information attendant.  I felt surrounded by people...with little help in sight.  Not cool, Logan, not cool. 

In Salem, the police were wonderful and waited with me while they called the fire department, who arrived with all kinds of fanfare at 11:00 at night.  Lights a-flashing, 8 fully dressed reindeer firefighters poured out of the firetruck to let me in.  I had to laugh... one thing the Salem FD is NOT, is subtle. They quickly found my open window and hoisted a guy in to unlock the door.  I don't think Pilgrim will be sitting in that window again anytime soon.  ;-)

And so I'm back, with spare keys, a free internet phone thanks to google, and am slowly replacing the things I lost.  I had a wonderful time, and I'm grateful to our host and most especially to Jeff for taking me on vacation.  He knows what he's started.  Now I'm looking at tickets to Italy.  I will certainly do it differently next time.  And at the end, I hope to have at least some laundry to show for it.  :)

A bientot!