In those typically harried weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I find myself on St. Martin (Sint Maarten), a small island in the Caribbean, where I get to live in the lap of luxury for a week – courtesy of some very generous friends, Kim and Dan Jape.
If you want to take a peek at how the other half lives, check out the villas offered by Carimo.
We took a little tour around our end of the island, Terres Basses, this afternoon to get our bearings. St. Martin is definitely more to my tastes than Tahiti. It’s certainly better maintained.
The great thing about these small islands — whether in the Atlantic or Pacific — is that it’s rather hard to get lost. A loop road typically encircles the island with a road, or two, cutting across the island provided it’s large enough. St. Martin is no exception.
The Friendly Island is unique in that essentially half of it belongs to France while the other half belongs to the Netherlands. Yet, English is the common language here. Unlike in Tahiti where many spoke French, everyone we’ve met here, even on the French side, speaks English.
This morning, after a couple of hours swimming and lounging in the pool…
we made the three minute stroll to Plum Bay. It didn’t disappoint.
We are here in the week before the island’s busy season, running from December to May, starts. Consequently, we had the beach virtually to ourselves. John and I took a short walk, plowing through the sand, while Kim and Dan perched amid some rocks and enjoyed the view.
Life is good on the road. But then again, this season of my life is wonderfully sweet. I’ve lived long enough to know that it will inevitably rain again. Yet, the knowledge doesn’t darken my enjoyment of these easy days. Rather, it makes them all the more dear to me.