Back to Reality
Well, the honeymoon's over and it's back to work today. We went to St. Barth's, a French possession in the Caribbean, just East of the US Virgin Islands. The island is quite beautiful, and relatively sparsely populated (unlike bustling and less beautiful St. Maarten, our island of entry).
As a French possession, I tried to dust off the old high school French at times. Unfortunately, I didn't remember enough for it to be useful. But by the end of the week, both my wife and I had learned enough to know what we were ordering in French and to somewhat bluff our way through other conversations.
One thing is for sure about the French, they are not afraid to show off their bodies, no matter how disturbing. Monokinis (topless) are in fashion, and quite frankly, some people should not be taking advantage of the fad. Part of one beach we both agreed was more like walking through a real-life Discovery Channel safari, than we would have preferred. At another beach, one French guy decided not to join the rest of the European men in wearing a Speedo (shudder...), and instead decided to blaze his own trail by going, as they say in French, sans swimsuit.
Strangely enough, the one American (though current Paris resident) we spoke to happened to have once lived in Wilmington, DE of all places. In another coincidence, a huge American yacht pulled into a secluded beach we hiked to. We joked that we should ask the owner if we could hitch a ride home rather than deal with flying back. Upon closer inspection, the joke was more feasible than we thought: the boat was from Dewey, DE. Small world.
One of the highlights of the trip was eating dinner at Le Ti St. Barth at a table next to who we are nearly certain was Jimmy Buffet. He owns a (different) restaurant on the island. Though unconfirmed, I'm willing to say it was him. We should have sent a Margarita to his table (but the exchange rate made dinner at even the LEAST expensive places hit at a minimum $60 with drinks).
We had a great time, now it's back to reality. Thanks again for your patience!
St. Barthelemy. August 6, 2005.
As a French possession, I tried to dust off the old high school French at times. Unfortunately, I didn't remember enough for it to be useful. But by the end of the week, both my wife and I had learned enough to know what we were ordering in French and to somewhat bluff our way through other conversations.
One thing is for sure about the French, they are not afraid to show off their bodies, no matter how disturbing. Monokinis (topless) are in fashion, and quite frankly, some people should not be taking advantage of the fad. Part of one beach we both agreed was more like walking through a real-life Discovery Channel safari, than we would have preferred. At another beach, one French guy decided not to join the rest of the European men in wearing a Speedo (shudder...), and instead decided to blaze his own trail by going, as they say in French, sans swimsuit.
Strangely enough, the one American (though current Paris resident) we spoke to happened to have once lived in Wilmington, DE of all places. In another coincidence, a huge American yacht pulled into a secluded beach we hiked to. We joked that we should ask the owner if we could hitch a ride home rather than deal with flying back. Upon closer inspection, the joke was more feasible than we thought: the boat was from Dewey, DE. Small world.
One of the highlights of the trip was eating dinner at Le Ti St. Barth at a table next to who we are nearly certain was Jimmy Buffet. He owns a (different) restaurant on the island. Though unconfirmed, I'm willing to say it was him. We should have sent a Margarita to his table (but the exchange rate made dinner at even the LEAST expensive places hit at a minimum $60 with drinks).
We had a great time, now it's back to reality. Thanks again for your patience!
St. Barthelemy. August 6, 2005.
posted by Mike C | 6:20 AM
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