PS

Seems I forgot to mention that when I came back to the villa to see if Paul was there, he in fact was, laying on the couch watching TV. Apparently he had quite a long and exhausting day, and while he was waiting for us outside O Corner, The Ambassador drove by and told him that he looked like a bum and can't dress like that for dinner in St. Barts (he was wearing cargo shorts and a polo shirt) and should go home and change, and promptly gave him directions. What a jerk. It all worked out for the best though, Paul needed some R&R after his day of being tour guide for Kevin in St. Martin. And by the way, he agreed that St. Martin is far from the ultimate vacation destination, and he didn't even see any floral bedspreads.