Night #2 began with a stroll over to Orient Village to eat dinner. As I said in the Day One report, it was going to be a choice between Le Pimente and Table d'Antoine. I knew going in that Pimente has the higher ratings in TripAdviser, and I had tried to make a reservation there but had failed due to technical reasons on the site. But I was open to Antoine.

As we turned the corner and walked through the archway, we immediately saw Antoine's. Their courtyard looked mighty enticing with the white tablecloths and widely-spaced tables. But we were headed for Pimente. There we were greeted by the congenial woman who seems to lord over the restaurant. She was very enthusiastic and convincing. But I hesitated. The tables were packed together, and the chairs looked uncomfortable. With my back, that can be a deal-breaker. And zero evidence of ambience.

So I hesitated and backed up to look at Antoine's menu. Not nearly as much variety. No enthusiastic greeter. But it looked so nice. Those white tablecloths and all that room was tempting. While I did my indecision dance, one group of diners after another walked past us to be greeted with enthusiasm and shown to their plain, wooden, crowded tables at Pimente. Meanwhile, only two of Antoine's tables were taken. While the tsunami of diners headed into Pimente, our chances for a table in their crowded courtyard were disappearing. The seating options continued to get worse. The white tablecloths beckoned like sirens on a rock.

Fortunately Abby slapped me to my senses, figuratively. This river of diners dying to dine at Pimente was trying to tell us something. This was the place to eat. Forget about those tablecloths. So in we went, and I do mean in. Deep within this narrow restaurant was our table for the night. Right below a Superwoman poster. No white tablecloth. But from then on we had no regrets. There are three very good reason why Pimente is so highly-rated: 1. The food, 2. The service, and 3. The .....wait for it...the ambience. It is a different kind of ambience that no white tablecloth can bring. The restaurant is alive. The servers and diners become one big group family dinner.

Poor Antoine's. One pair of elderly ladies -- at my age there aren't many I can get away with calling elderly -- sat down in Antoine's. (And, by the way, why is the majority of people in Orient north of 50 years old? But that is a question for a whole separate thread.) After they looked at the menu, it was apparent they found themselves in the wrong restaurant. Up they got, and over the wall they came to join everyone at Pimente. They too had been seduced by the white cotton cloth adorning those tables. But tablecloths obviously do not make a restaurant. Now I am sure Antoine's is quite good. But being only slightly second-best in this case makes all this difference in the world.

Caveat: the food a Pimente is not of the same caliber as the food we had had the night before at Astrolabe, nor is it as expensive. But the experience was just as good at Pimente. Everything was wonderful. And we had way more laughs at Pimente.

Then a posse of what looked like "real housewives" passed by with an entire camera crew in tow taping their every move. We were told that it was the cast of a French soap opera called "The House of Many Broken Hearts." Or something like that. Our hostess told us that French soaps are worse than anything that appears on US television. They settled into another restaurant two doors down. Picture keeping with with the Kardashians in SXM. Hmmm, maybe I should pitch that to someone.

Anyway, that was our memorable night #2. Had I chosen those white tablecloths, we never would have had this story to tell.

Today started out a little iffy on Orient Beach. The skies were cloudy, and the wind was stronger. The surf was obviously up compared to yesterday. We could see from our breakfast table that seaweed was rolling in today, where there had been little or none yesterday. When Abby took her walk, she found that the amount of seaweed was correlated with beach location. Club O was essentially untouched, but by Coco Beach the seaweed made walking farther north very difficult. The winds to the northwest were carry the crud in that direction?

I have to back up here to recount what we saw as we approached SXM. From the plane, we saw long tendrils of something brown in the water. It looked gooey enough to be oil. That would be most disconcerting. We asked the pilot, and he told us that we were actually seeing seaweed. Hard to imagine. Well, it was that same brown goo-like stuff that we were seeing from the beach. It was just the usual seaweed, but from a distance the mats of it looked like an oil spill.

After a dusting of liquid sunshine, the weather turned perfect, the wind died down somewhat, and the seaweed stayed offshore waiting to make its next landing invasion at the next high tide I suppose.

In short -- and don't you wish this report were short -- another wonderful day in SXM.

Tonight, our anniversary dinner is at Le Cottage. It a first time for us there. I am hoping for a table on the street-side porch. I wonder if they have white tablecloths?