CHAPTER 7
Friday July 22 to Sunday July 24
We would rise early every morning at L’Hoste. Knowing the day would be spent on the beach, a morning shower was not on our morning agenda, but relegated to the afternoon. We’d throw on a pair of shorts, t-shirt and sandals for breakfast. My favorite “t” is the one Marilyn embroidered on with: “Some Beach Somewhere”, a palm tree, sand and ocean. Opening our 2nd story room door to the balcony, coconuts are within reach if we strain a bit over the railing toward the tree whose palm branches are directly in front of us. The view from our balcony down into the grounds at L’Hoste is thick and green and wet from a passing shower. The early morning sun finds it difficult to break through the dense palms and leafy trees so the air is flora musty, warm and moist. On most days, one or two early morning bathers are swimming in the pool that can be seen not too far away down the path at the bottom of our staircase. We would pass on the continental breakfast today and set our sights for the Bikini Beach Bar and a breakfast of eggs over easy, bacon and toast. “Do you have decaf espresso?”, I asked. “Sure we do, would you both like one?” Marilyn desired the real deal but I was very happy to find a decaf haven on St. Martin and found a ready supply at Bikini for the duration of our trip.
The plan for today would be Orient beach but only after a drive to the Dutch side where I would stop at the bank to withdraw some cash and then maybe a fast lunch at the Sunset Beach Bar. The drive down was uneventful and swift and by the time we got to the Simpson Bay area I noticed the gas gage was low. We pulled into the Shell station and filled the tank, turned the key and heard the dread click of a starter lugging at an unresponsive engine. “Uh, oh”, no sooner came out of my mouth before a local motorist offered his cell phone in case we wanted to make a call. The gas attendant offered that it sounded like our battery was dead and, as it turned out, Unity Car Rental was only two blocks away. We called Michael and he was there in 5 minutes, jumped our car and took us back to the lot where he exchanged batteries and off we went. We were thankful that this happened where and when it did as we did not have a cell phone and could have been somewhere on the French side. That would have made it a lot more difficult for everyone. Marilyn said, “Kind of like we made the trip to get the car fixed, but didn’t know that’s why we went!”
At Club Orient beach, I would make a daily swim out to the square wooden raft that bobs lightly in the water about 30 yards out. Lying there, the sun’s rays warming my entire body, looking up at the clouds that seemed to sway across the sky with the rocking motion of the raft, sooths and relaxes your being (I have another t-shirt that says “Carri-bein”, an idea possibly born on this raft). The longer you lay out, the cooler the dive into the clear water feels as you head back to your lounge and umbrella. We would take advantage of our foam noodles throughout the day and on one of our “noodle excursions” floating back down from Papagayo’s, we missed Fred, the pleasant, athletically built blonde beach attendant who collects the fee from those not staying at Club Orient. We caught up with him later near Perch Bar and when I approached him with my twenty-dollar bill he said, “Dark blue towels, right?” As I walk back to our lounge, I wonder what Fred’s life plans were? He is young and the world lies before him. Is this a temporary employment opportunity before embarking upon some other, more usual life work? Or, is he completely content, lured by these tropical surroundings into a desire to do this work indefinitely; “He does it well”, the ladies will tell you! My wife’s brother, schooled to work in the financial world and well employed with sports car, expensive wardrobe and hefty bank account, went to St. Thomas in the early seventies to venture in the restaurant business and stayed there until a few years ago. Perhaps we’ll see Fred, for years on into the future on the beach at Club Orient!
In the evening, we decided to try a pepperoni pizza at Tap 5 with a glass of the house Bordeaux. Both were very good and as we ate Jeff and his lovely wife Linda, whom we had met during lunch at Bikini Beach Bar that first day on the French side, showed up with friends they had met while on the island. I took a liking to Jeff immediately as he reminded me of one of my best friends from home. He ventured out to our tables on the patio of Tap 5 to ask how our wine was. He has an interest in learning more about wine, which I enjoyed as it is also something I give attention to. Our wine was good indeed and I presume he went back in and ordered what we were having. We appreciated their friendliness and would spend much more time together in the days ahead.
Saturday July 23rd
This morning I awoke at 4:30am and could not get back to sleep. After tossing in bed for another half-hour, I quietly slipped on shorts, t-shirt, grabbed my digital camera, and headed out to snap the sunrise. I must have been absent the day in Physics class when temperature variation, humidity and its effect on lenses was discussed. I peered through my viewfinder to find London on a foggy winter morning. An air-conditioned cooled camera hits the warm, moist tropical air and you pray that the sun will halt its rise until your lens clears. I wiped the lens with my shirt but evidently there was also an internal lens I could not access. It seemed to take forever before I was able to shoot shots worth keeping. The sunrise was unremarkable that morning anyway, so I wasn’t that frustrated with how things transpired.
One day on TTOL, I received a pm from a friendly gal named Sharon wondering if we would like to meet with she and her husband Mike for breakfast. They were also staying at L’Hoste, so we set a date for today and met around 8 a.m. in the dining area. The eggs and bacon from Bikini Beach bar had wetted my appetite for more, so we talked about the option of walking together down to Baywatch for breakfast. We found Mike and Sharon a lot of fun and as we walked along Orient beach, passing the morning Club Orient strollers and tourist enjoying and early morning swim, we talked about our children, St. Martin and some of our experiences on the island. Andy was waiting at his popular establishment and sat at the table next to ours. It seemed to me that Mike and Sharon had spent a good amount of time at Baywatch and knew Andy from previous vacations. Breakfast was good as was the company and a whole day was ahead of us. We spent it both La Playa beach and down by Club Orient with our noodles. It is a good walking distance from our hotel to Club Orient, but we decided the exercise each day would compensate for our rich dining experiences.
Sunday July 24th
More beach time was spent at La Playa and in the afternoon at Club Orient. This evening we would dine in Grand Case at Talk of the Town. Grand Case is the dining capital of St. Martin. Any number of exquisite French restaurants can be found lining both sides of the street that cuts through town. There are also the Lo Los, run by locals who prepare less expensive but scrumptious offerings of ribs, chicken, slaw, beans, corn, fries and bread. It is a short ride from Orient Village, where L’Hoste is located, to Grand Case. We turned right at the sign indicating the towns location and drove along past the airport turning left at Spiga. The street is narrow and it is often necessary to negotiate with on-coming cars in order to avoid the vehicles parked along the way. The town was crowded with locals participating in some kind of carnival that evening. Off to the left in an open field we could see a stage where a band played Latin music; tents had been erected and barbeques were set up on charcoal grills. Smoking meat filled the air along with laughter, music and the chatter of hundreds of people talking simultaneously. We wondered if parking would be a problem but saw a lot off to our left, which we pulled back into and found a spot. We heard from someone later that it is safer to park at the lot that can be found further down the street for a fee, but we did not have any difficulty on this evening.
A short walk found us at Talk of the Town. The grills sit out in the open air attended by several women turning ribs and chicken. Tables lined the grills holding containers and bowls of side dishes and stainless hot plates containing rice and beans. We sat at a booth that sits under a white wooden porch roof with an open view of the street to my right. The bar is to my left and Marilyn sits in the seat opposite me, and I am happy she does! One other booth held other “tourists” but the majority of patrons this evening are locals…and flies. The insects were not terribly bothersome but it was our first encounter fending off the pests while we dined. We enjoyed our surroundings and fellow diners and both ordered the rib and chicken platter with sides of rice and beans, corn on the cob, fries and slaw. A Carib for her and Presidente for me and soon we were enjoying our meal. We ordered two more beers before we were finished and had to wait a bit for our check. $24, but I noticed that the other two beers we had ordered were not on the bill. I found our waitress and mentioned it to her and she changed the total to $28, which wasn’t bad as we had enough leftovers for lunch the next day.
To be continued…..
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