It's early, and I am watching the sun rise over the Atlantic, fighting with the clouds the whole way.

I am writing in the morning because at the end of the day yesterday I couldn’t even get through dinner I was so tired. Again, sun and wind and swimming and fun coupled with a crazy work schedule took its toll.

But before all that happened, there was another great day.

How did it start? Like every great day in St. Martin starts, with a long walk on Orient Beach. We were a little slow to get going, so we – and I understand this is scandalous – drove the jeep to the beach. Our little villa is just far enough that this was somehow justifiable. We had a wonderful long walk, this time to Mount Vernon end and up to the Club O line, and back. It’s such a nice couple time, it’s beautiful obviously, but you can just enjoy each others’ company, talking or just being quiet. Of course there’s always good people watching, like the fellow with the super bright pink marble sack outfit yesterday. Very fetching.

We had to stop at the bakery for more pastries and I got a cappuccino to go for some less nasty coffee. I wish I had seen PandpfromCanada’s comments on Petit Casino coffee, here I am this morning suffering through the kind of nasty stuff again. One small improvement this morning is not trying to make it as strong as I do at home. It’s a little less like transmission-fluid-from-an old-Mustang-that-was-found-in-a-barn this way.

At my advanced age, some things refuse to make sense. You come home from a French bakery with fresh pastries, including those delicious chocolate croissants, yum, and your 18 year old says no thanks and has Froot Loops. Ahh, youth.

So we have to decide what to do today, as we left off with no plans the night before. Km and I were ready to get back into the groove of doing what we normally do, that is, go take a chair on Orient and barely move until cocktail hour. So that’s what we choose to do. The boys are instead going to go exploring. We gave them the not-very-detailed map from that wristwatch ad that masquerades as a magazine and sent them off to seek their fortune.

We bundled up our bit of stuff and headed down to the Beach. Our plan was to go get a chair at Orange Fever, our favourite place to have lunch on the Beach. Again, we were a little late getting going yesterday, so had to settle for chairs in the last row. We took the ones furthest from the aisle, so closest to the next bar. Just as we got ourselves installed, a small group took the four chairs next to us, and promptly put a little blue tooth speaker in the table to share their music with us. While we appreciated the gesture, we quickly gathered up out stuff and moved to the opposite end of the row, just far enough away so as to not to have to listen to Steppenwolf.

Another liberal coating of sunscreen and I was ready to have a nappy time. Kim was more strategically placed under the umbrella, so I napped in the direct sun. It was so wonderfully hot. I don’t’ even like the heat all that much, but it was fantastic. Well to tell the truth, the older I get the more lizard-like I become and I am learning to appreciate the heat.

So has there always been this many beach vendors? I don’t know how many nice ladies we turned down for free sample foot massages, or how many straw hats I didn’t buy. It was a constant stream, almost beyond belief. While I was laying there, I spotted one vendor who is an old acquaintance. There is another thread about people you have met here who made an impression, one for me was Dread I. A few years ago I was on my chair with headphones on when this gentleman sat on the end of my lounger and asks: “Do you like Reggae Music Mon?”

“Well, as a matter of fact I am listening to Mr. Bob Marley right now,” I replied.

“Righteous,” says Dread I. “What’s your favourite song?”

“That would have to be Redemption Song.”

And Dread I sat on the end of my lounger and sang Redemption Song for me, earnestly and pitch perfect in the Sun in St Martin. It was kind of magic. What followed was a 15 minute discussion of music and life, and my purchasing a couple of Dread I CDs.

So there’s Dread I just 8 feet away chatting up a couple. I wanted to talk to him, but thought it would be weird to go chasing him down.

We ended up chatting up all of the people around us in the chairs. We made best pals with a young cruise ship couple from Tennessee, and with some older ladies from North Carolina. We shared some beers and rum drinks – Kim got her favourite Mango Colada. We got around to ordering a pizza for lunch around 2, it got to our table around 3. The lady who appears to be running the place was mortified and apologetic, and brought us free drinks. She pointed out how a table of ten had sat down just before us, and had ordered a pile of pizzas. Me, I don’t really care, I am here in paradise with my lady, feet in the sand. It’s not all that bad to have to wait for a pizza. Especially when Dread I strolls in and sits down with us! So next thing you know, we’re singing Three Little Birds for the people in the restaurant. My feet are still in the sand.

* * * *

The boys return a little while later and describe how their exploration got as far as Baie Rouge, where they took turns risking their lives in the surf. My younger one was beaming with excitement tell us about being bowled over and tossed about repeatedly by the huge waves. He did tell me he was being “careful.”

We get back to the villa around 4.30, and like the day before, I went down like sack of potatoes for a nap. Waking up 2 hours later I see that neither of the boys, despite our badgering, took sunscreen all that seriously. Both are good and pink, but neither seems to mind that much. My older one did an incomplete job on his face, seemingly getting both cheeks but omitting to do the center of his face. He’s got a bright red line down the middle of his forehead, down his nose, past his mouth to his chin. His brother laughs and tells him he looks like a Burger King drinking straw. Brothers can be very supportive.

Last adventure of the day was a quick trip around the corner to Rancho del Sol. We were choosing between that and La Piment. Given that I could barely keep my head up, I am glad to have chosen Rancho. Everybody thought their meals were great, mine a Seafood Parilla seafood with some red sauce in a kind of tortilla bowl was kind of “meh.” I wasn’t really hungry anyhow, our 3 pm pizza was delicious and still doing its belly filling job. I ended up strolling back to the villa while the rest of them finished their meals, and heading straight to bed. I don’t even know what happened the rest of the evening, but will find out shortly I guess, I sounds like Kim has just woken up.