Just curious who has been reading, is there anyone out there who doesn't know me, Suzanne or Paul? I would love to read your comments, the sign-in is disabled to please feel free to post anonomously! Also, believe it or not but vacations like my trips to St. Barts and Bequia are actually cheaper than hotel or resort vacations, and villa renting is more convenient than you may think. I rented Villa Finistere in Flamands, St. Barts, I mean St. Barth, and Blue Skies in Mount Pleasant, Bequia, and both exceeded my expectations. And for a non-resort-ish hotel/villa alternative, Tikaye Village in St. Lucia was fantastic. And oh yea, thanks to Kristi Comes, this fabulous home in Edgartown, Martha's Vineyard, my first experience with renting a home for a vacation, that was the one that kind of got me hooked. My sister Emily has recently started a business arranging trips like these to help take a lot of the guesswork out of the planning process. If you are planning to take a vacation and would like to make it out of the ordinary, send an email to iwantthatlife@rocketmail.com.
Oh yea, and one more thing, drivers and scooter peeps on St. Barts are crazy. Coming from a city of aggressive drivers, you would think I would be used to it, but not on those kinds of roads. They love to drive like 1 foot behind your car, even if you are going as fast as you can. We dubbed the female scooter peeps "scooter bitches" if that gives you any idea. Don't even think about renting one there unless you have no problem risking life and limb!
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Alone Again, Naturally
Ahh, there is something about being totally alone in paradise that is so satisfying. Yes, its a little lonely, I would love it if Pepper and Gem were with me, but that's really all I need, they entertain me to no end with their play fights.
Excuse the diversion, back to the story for today. I thought that if I showed up at Petite Colombe before 10 I would get my hands on a pain au chocolat, but alas, there were none left. I had to settle on - get this - a glazed croissant stuffed with chocolate and cream. So sad. Given that I had to fly out at 3:15 today, I wanted to top off the tan at Gouvener (or however you spell it) beach. Once I figured out how to get there, it was clear that we were totally on the wrong path when we tried to find it the other day. I had been there years ago and as soon as I started passing the "Private Property" signs I recognized it and started getting giddy. I wish I didn't have to pay attention to the road because I would have rather been able to gawk at the incredible estates in the hills that surround the beach. Holy crap. Fi had told us yesterday that a property across the street from our villa recently sold for 11 million euros - that's almost 17 million dollars. And it wasn't out of this world spectacular. But these were. So this is how those ultra rich people live. Huh. I cannot even imagine what the estate is like that has a big gate backing right up to the beach. Again, holy crap.
Here are some views:
This is actually a view from a hill on the way to St. Jean:
The beach was as breathtaking as I remember it (I HATE that I just used that word, but seriously, you walk down the path and can't help but say a four-letter word out loud when you get a glimpse). Even though I was alone, I still said one. Once again, pictures cannot convey, but here is a try:
I practically had the beach to myself, there were about 10 other people there. The major difference between this beach and Saline is the surf and the depth. At Saline, you could walk out pretty far and the water was very calm. Here, it got deep a little too quickly, and there was a constant influx of waves, but nothing major. By far 2 of the nicest beaches I have been to. Next: Thailand.
OK, enough daydreaming about my next adventure. I went home to pack up and made a quick stop at my favorite store in St. Jean, Glamour, to see if there were any last minute fashions calling my name. There was: the coolest belt ever. See how easy it is? Then a stop at Kiki et Mo for a panini and diet coke to go, a fill up at the gas station and then to the bench at the airstrip (you can't really call it an airport) to wait for my flight. I realized I still had some euros left so ran upstairs to the shop to dispense of them. To my surpise, the Winair guy came up there and said "Mademoiselle, ve are vaiting for you (insert french accent)" and escorted me to my private plane. Yep, this one was just for me and my 2 pilots. I am just loving my life of leisure. That was until I started sweating like a horse in the plane. It sure was hot in there.
So that's it, another getaway-a-la-Erin comes to an end. This time no hard feelings due to a freeloading duo of dufuses. I now sit here in Princess Juliana Airport in St. Martin waiting for my connection to San Juan where I will have dinner tonight with an old high school friend, Effie, who lives there. In the coming days I will post some do's and don'ts, faves and non-faves of the trip so stay tuned.
WAIT, ONE LAST THING:
I know you are all dying to see T.A. Well, since the trip is over, I thought I could add this. I thought that black and white would really capture the moment:
Excuse the diversion, back to the story for today. I thought that if I showed up at Petite Colombe before 10 I would get my hands on a pain au chocolat, but alas, there were none left. I had to settle on - get this - a glazed croissant stuffed with chocolate and cream. So sad. Given that I had to fly out at 3:15 today, I wanted to top off the tan at Gouvener (or however you spell it) beach. Once I figured out how to get there, it was clear that we were totally on the wrong path when we tried to find it the other day. I had been there years ago and as soon as I started passing the "Private Property" signs I recognized it and started getting giddy. I wish I didn't have to pay attention to the road because I would have rather been able to gawk at the incredible estates in the hills that surround the beach. Holy crap. Fi had told us yesterday that a property across the street from our villa recently sold for 11 million euros - that's almost 17 million dollars. And it wasn't out of this world spectacular. But these were. So this is how those ultra rich people live. Huh. I cannot even imagine what the estate is like that has a big gate backing right up to the beach. Again, holy crap.
Here are some views:
This is actually a view from a hill on the way to St. Jean:
The beach was as breathtaking as I remember it (I HATE that I just used that word, but seriously, you walk down the path and can't help but say a four-letter word out loud when you get a glimpse). Even though I was alone, I still said one. Once again, pictures cannot convey, but here is a try:
I practically had the beach to myself, there were about 10 other people there. The major difference between this beach and Saline is the surf and the depth. At Saline, you could walk out pretty far and the water was very calm. Here, it got deep a little too quickly, and there was a constant influx of waves, but nothing major. By far 2 of the nicest beaches I have been to. Next: Thailand.
OK, enough daydreaming about my next adventure. I went home to pack up and made a quick stop at my favorite store in St. Jean, Glamour, to see if there were any last minute fashions calling my name. There was: the coolest belt ever. See how easy it is? Then a stop at Kiki et Mo for a panini and diet coke to go, a fill up at the gas station and then to the bench at the airstrip (you can't really call it an airport) to wait for my flight. I realized I still had some euros left so ran upstairs to the shop to dispense of them. To my surpise, the Winair guy came up there and said "Mademoiselle, ve are vaiting for you (insert french accent)" and escorted me to my private plane. Yep, this one was just for me and my 2 pilots. I am just loving my life of leisure. That was until I started sweating like a horse in the plane. It sure was hot in there.
So that's it, another getaway-a-la-Erin comes to an end. This time no hard feelings due to a freeloading duo of dufuses. I now sit here in Princess Juliana Airport in St. Martin waiting for my connection to San Juan where I will have dinner tonight with an old high school friend, Effie, who lives there. In the coming days I will post some do's and don'ts, faves and non-faves of the trip so stay tuned.
WAIT, ONE LAST THING:
I know you are all dying to see T.A. Well, since the trip is over, I thought I could add this. I thought that black and white would really capture the moment:
Friday, July 11, 2008
Paul's Last Day - Friday July 11
We had already been scuba diving, snorkeling and boogie boarding, had good meals, spa treatments (oh wait, that was just me) and done some shopping, what was left to do today? I guess more eating and beaches. After a very late start and calling in his peeps, Paul arranged for a complimentary lunch for us at Nikki Beach. But first, some shopping in St. Jean, where I found another great St. Barts, I mean St. Barth, style item to add to my Chicago wardrobe. I have caught on that everyone looks so elegant here by wearing simple flowy items with great accessories like belts and necklaces. I'll see how I can incorporate that into my style at home, which may be hard since I don't own many simple flowy items but with my best friend Bluefly.com, I may own some of those and some glam belts and accessories very soon.
Nikki Beach is a celeb hot spot "in the season" (ha!) very close to Eden Rock and is just what I expected, an elegant beachfront restaurant where you have a great view of all of the beach activity. We had seen pictures of white canopied beds on the beach but didn't see any there today. Kind of reminded me of the setup at the Delano in South Beach, but without all the real estate. I would have to admit that I would love to have bottle service while hanging out on a canopied bed on the beach, but today was not my lucky day. Instead we feasted on sea scallops and chicken curry and dover sole, and for myself, a couple pina coladas. No celebrity spotting today but here are some nice pics of the people we saw actually doing activities while we stuffed ourselves:
After lunch, busting out of my top:
,
My artsy pic:
Then, on to the beach. I picked the beach in L'Orient because it is well known for its snorkeling and sightings of big sea turtles. It was just a quick drive past St. Jean and has a very easy-to-miss pedestrian entrance next to one of the many above-ground cemetaries on the island. After yesterday's wonderful surprise walking over the sand dune at Saline, I expected to once again hear angels sing when I crossed over from the path to the beach. Not so. This beach was much longer (wider? i mean from end to end) than Saline, but very narrow. It is also backed up to a couple of cute beach houses and some not so cute, dark and depressing ones - at least from the outside. I was super disappointed when I walked out to the water and instantly hoped I had brought some kind of beach shoes. It was very rocky but I managed, not gracefully I must add. Once in the water, I put on my mask and snorkel and found that the water was pretty murky today and that the fancy snorkel that Paul let me use was too complicated for me; I kept getting mouthfuls of salt water. Instead of a snorkeling day, it turned into a sun worshiping day, and a day of watching the guy next to us get in and out of the water. He was not so hard on the eyes, I must say.
Paul had to catch the 6:00 ferry back to St. Martin so that he could get his early flight to San Juan, so we came back to the house to clean up and grab his stuff. After I dropped him off at the ferry dock in Gustavia, I had aspirations of a big night in St. Barts, I mean St. Barth, on my own and spent about an hour deciding where to have dinner. I decided on Pipiri Palace, a restaurant I had been to when we moored here on a sailing trip several years ago. I then decided to take a quick nap, and proceeded to wake up at 11 p.m. Wow, I'm super fun. And here I sit writing my blog after eating the leftover pizza from last night, an ice cream cone and some pretzles and drinking the wine that Suzanne thought we would finish but of course never opened.......
Nikki Beach is a celeb hot spot "in the season" (ha!) very close to Eden Rock and is just what I expected, an elegant beachfront restaurant where you have a great view of all of the beach activity. We had seen pictures of white canopied beds on the beach but didn't see any there today. Kind of reminded me of the setup at the Delano in South Beach, but without all the real estate. I would have to admit that I would love to have bottle service while hanging out on a canopied bed on the beach, but today was not my lucky day. Instead we feasted on sea scallops and chicken curry and dover sole, and for myself, a couple pina coladas. No celebrity spotting today but here are some nice pics of the people we saw actually doing activities while we stuffed ourselves:
After lunch, busting out of my top:
,
My artsy pic:
Then, on to the beach. I picked the beach in L'Orient because it is well known for its snorkeling and sightings of big sea turtles. It was just a quick drive past St. Jean and has a very easy-to-miss pedestrian entrance next to one of the many above-ground cemetaries on the island. After yesterday's wonderful surprise walking over the sand dune at Saline, I expected to once again hear angels sing when I crossed over from the path to the beach. Not so. This beach was much longer (wider? i mean from end to end) than Saline, but very narrow. It is also backed up to a couple of cute beach houses and some not so cute, dark and depressing ones - at least from the outside. I was super disappointed when I walked out to the water and instantly hoped I had brought some kind of beach shoes. It was very rocky but I managed, not gracefully I must add. Once in the water, I put on my mask and snorkel and found that the water was pretty murky today and that the fancy snorkel that Paul let me use was too complicated for me; I kept getting mouthfuls of salt water. Instead of a snorkeling day, it turned into a sun worshiping day, and a day of watching the guy next to us get in and out of the water. He was not so hard on the eyes, I must say.
Paul had to catch the 6:00 ferry back to St. Martin so that he could get his early flight to San Juan, so we came back to the house to clean up and grab his stuff. After I dropped him off at the ferry dock in Gustavia, I had aspirations of a big night in St. Barts, I mean St. Barth, on my own and spent about an hour deciding where to have dinner. I decided on Pipiri Palace, a restaurant I had been to when we moored here on a sailing trip several years ago. I then decided to take a quick nap, and proceeded to wake up at 11 p.m. Wow, I'm super fun. And here I sit writing my blog after eating the leftover pizza from last night, an ice cream cone and some pretzles and drinking the wine that Suzanne thought we would finish but of course never opened.......
Transition Day - Thursday July 10
This morning was very confusing. Last night on our drive home from the O Corner incident, Suzanne and I had a bit of a disagreement on whether anyone I had dated recently and subjected my friends to (read: the jackass who I brought to Bequia) was as annoying as The Ambassador. I still think she wins the most annoying companion award but then again, its hard for me to be unbiased on that one. I thought I shielded the jackass-ness to the best of my ability in Bequia, but thinking back, the only reason it probably wasn't as painful was because there were more guests, so no one person other than me really had to deal with him. Anyhoo - although Suze had previously planned to change her flight arrangements to stay through the end of the week, she proclaimed when she walked in the door that she should just go home because she didn't want to cause any more trouble. She also proclaimed that we should drink the 2 bottles of wine that were in the fridge. Of course shortly after we arrived home, she went straight to sleep.
I wasn't sure how to approach the day when we all got up today - "Hey chickie, are you leaving? I need to know because I have a spa appointment" didn't seem appropriate so I just said nothing and ran across the street to find out what time my appointment was at Isle de France. When they said that I didn't have one (The Ambassador had made it for me), I was confused, although they told me to check back when the spa opened in 15 minutes. So I returned home for a snack, and as soon as Paul asked Suze "Are you staying?", a flurry of activity began at the Villa Finistere-turned-travel agency. Both she and Paul tried their hardest to rearrange their plans so that (1) Suzanne could stay until Saturday and (2) Paul could fly with me back to San Juan.
Sadly, neither of them succeeded. Apparently changing your flight plans isn't as easy as it once was and will cost you your first born. So back to the original plan it was and I thought I would try the spa again to see if a massage was in my immediate future. It in fact was, so I quickly ran back to say goodbye to Suzanne then back again to the spa for 90 minutes of heaven. This made the Le Toiny experience seem like kind of a joke. I began with a self-serve mud treatment in the steam room for 20 minutes, followed by a relaxing shower. Then on to the massage, which was fabulous. This massage was not in a hut, but in a real spa treatment room with all the fixins. When it was done, the masseuse actually told me it was done, she got extra points for that. She turned the massage table into a chair and sat me up, telling me to stay put and to wait for her to bring some refreshments. A few minutes later she arrived with a trio of sorbets and some cold water. That was a new one on me - loved it! That indulgence was followed by yet another rain shower and I cleaned up before having my 3 course lunch in the hotel restaurant (included with the price of the massage! only 95 euros - a steal!)
Paul joined me for lunch, and, as seems to be the trend here in July, we were two of only a few people there. I love it though, having it all to myself. If you can't relax like this you have serious issues.
Some pics of Isle de France:
casual area for drinks:
Pool 1:
Pool 2:
Paul being cool guy:
After lunch, the activity options were few: beach or shop. I know neither of those really appeal to most men, but I talked Paul into doing beach. We headed out to find Gouvenor (or however you spell it) beach, but after a wrong turn or 2, we ended up by Saline instead. Our detour took us to parts of the island I had not seen before and they were not very pretty or developed. It was just odd to have seen so much going on in other areas then suddenly it was barren, as well as some sort of swamp. There was a fine italian restaurant near saline (and the swamp) but I would be kind of scared to go there this time of year because there is nothing over there. Perhaps I should check it out again "in the season" as T.A. would say.
Saline, known for its nude sunbathers, required a short hike and once we made it over the sand dune I think I heard angels sing - it was a huge - repeat - huge - white, fine sand beach with water as clear as it gets. And once in the water, the sea floor was like walking on fine carpet, very soothing to the feet. Amazing. Pictures don't really convey, but here is a try:
I ventured to the left end of the beach and apparently that is where all the naked people are. Naked people who take very good care of their bodies. But I could have done without the guy in the cove of rocks at the end who was doing situps naked. What is that about?
Then the dinner selection: The Hideaway in St. Jean. Billed as one of the best values on the island with great pizza and a super casual atmosphere. I knew we had it casual when I heard "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" in the background. At $100 for 2 beers, 2 salads, 2 pizzas, and one dessert, I guess it was a value for St. Barts, wait, St. Barth, standards. I wasn't loving it though. I guess I haven't been too impressed with either of our casual pizza choices (Le Bouchon and this place), don't get me wrong, the pizza is good (with Hideways being much better, less greasy) and super fresh, but I was getting kind of used to the super gourmet stuff we had been having elsewhere. I think you call that spoiled. And soon I would also be calling it "getting fat".
I wasn't sure how to approach the day when we all got up today - "Hey chickie, are you leaving? I need to know because I have a spa appointment" didn't seem appropriate so I just said nothing and ran across the street to find out what time my appointment was at Isle de France. When they said that I didn't have one (The Ambassador had made it for me), I was confused, although they told me to check back when the spa opened in 15 minutes. So I returned home for a snack, and as soon as Paul asked Suze "Are you staying?", a flurry of activity began at the Villa Finistere-turned-travel agency. Both she and Paul tried their hardest to rearrange their plans so that (1) Suzanne could stay until Saturday and (2) Paul could fly with me back to San Juan.
Sadly, neither of them succeeded. Apparently changing your flight plans isn't as easy as it once was and will cost you your first born. So back to the original plan it was and I thought I would try the spa again to see if a massage was in my immediate future. It in fact was, so I quickly ran back to say goodbye to Suzanne then back again to the spa for 90 minutes of heaven. This made the Le Toiny experience seem like kind of a joke. I began with a self-serve mud treatment in the steam room for 20 minutes, followed by a relaxing shower. Then on to the massage, which was fabulous. This massage was not in a hut, but in a real spa treatment room with all the fixins. When it was done, the masseuse actually told me it was done, she got extra points for that. She turned the massage table into a chair and sat me up, telling me to stay put and to wait for her to bring some refreshments. A few minutes later she arrived with a trio of sorbets and some cold water. That was a new one on me - loved it! That indulgence was followed by yet another rain shower and I cleaned up before having my 3 course lunch in the hotel restaurant (included with the price of the massage! only 95 euros - a steal!)
Paul joined me for lunch, and, as seems to be the trend here in July, we were two of only a few people there. I love it though, having it all to myself. If you can't relax like this you have serious issues.
Some pics of Isle de France:
casual area for drinks:
Pool 1:
Pool 2:
Paul being cool guy:
After lunch, the activity options were few: beach or shop. I know neither of those really appeal to most men, but I talked Paul into doing beach. We headed out to find Gouvenor (or however you spell it) beach, but after a wrong turn or 2, we ended up by Saline instead. Our detour took us to parts of the island I had not seen before and they were not very pretty or developed. It was just odd to have seen so much going on in other areas then suddenly it was barren, as well as some sort of swamp. There was a fine italian restaurant near saline (and the swamp) but I would be kind of scared to go there this time of year because there is nothing over there. Perhaps I should check it out again "in the season" as T.A. would say.
Saline, known for its nude sunbathers, required a short hike and once we made it over the sand dune I think I heard angels sing - it was a huge - repeat - huge - white, fine sand beach with water as clear as it gets. And once in the water, the sea floor was like walking on fine carpet, very soothing to the feet. Amazing. Pictures don't really convey, but here is a try:
I ventured to the left end of the beach and apparently that is where all the naked people are. Naked people who take very good care of their bodies. But I could have done without the guy in the cove of rocks at the end who was doing situps naked. What is that about?
Then the dinner selection: The Hideaway in St. Jean. Billed as one of the best values on the island with great pizza and a super casual atmosphere. I knew we had it casual when I heard "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" in the background. At $100 for 2 beers, 2 salads, 2 pizzas, and one dessert, I guess it was a value for St. Barts, wait, St. Barth, standards. I wasn't loving it though. I guess I haven't been too impressed with either of our casual pizza choices (Le Bouchon and this place), don't get me wrong, the pizza is good (with Hideways being much better, less greasy) and super fresh, but I was getting kind of used to the super gourmet stuff we had been having elsewhere. I think you call that spoiled. And soon I would also be calling it "getting fat".
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.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Work Day - Wednesday July 9
Today Paul took Kevin to St. Martin to see him off on his 3-week sailing/diving trip. This will be Kevin's longest time away from his dad and it was kinda cute to see him get all nervous, but then super excited as soon as we got down to the dock where they were going to catch the Rapid Explorer ferry. Thankfully the water was very calm today so the trip would be smooth sailing.
At the ferry dock:
Ever see a moon in the sunlight?
Given that Suzanne and I (or at least I) have very few motherly instincts, I thought that after a quick hug it was OK for us to bolt out so we could get breakfast at La Creperie, which we did. One ham, egg and cheese and plate of bacon later, I was a very happy camper ready to do some power shopping before the conference call I had to take from the pool at noon. We had heard that the shops in St. Jean were better than in Gustavia (seriously, who really buys stuff at Christian Dior and Gucci other than sunglasses?) and they were definitely a little closer to my price range.
Both Suzanne and I spent the entire afternoon working /reading - Suzanne may have had a nap in there as well - then we had to get ready for our champagne sunset boat trip on the catamaran that we dove from yesterday. I put on my new St. Bart's wear and we headed out, and ended up getting to know some really great people on the boat, including a couple from L.A. on their honeymoon and of course Carol and Annette from yesterday. We sailed out to Columbier beach and settled in to watch the sunset while having snacks and sipping champagne. Nice. Not sure it was worth 80 euros per person though. We should have each also been provided with a hot frenchman to caress our backs while watching the sunset as well.
The Honeymooners:
Sunset, wishing for a hot frenchman:
Showing off my new fashions on the boat, I had to include this because it makes me laugh so very hard:
After having been directed by my sister to try as many of her recommended restaurants as possible, we chose O Corner in Gustavia, conveniently located for us after we docked. One would think that a place called O Corner would be an irish pub or some other casual place. Au contraire mon frere. Quite chic, again with the decor, the music, and as cheesy as I feel using this word - the "vibe". Paul was supposed to meet us there but was not there so I started to get worried and, while I headed back to the villa to see if he might be there and if he was joining us for dinner, Suzanne ran over to Le Strand to quickly meet The Ambassador. I gave her strict instructions that when I sent her a text stating "take a moment, say your goodbyes" she was to return to O Corner sans Ambassador. What do you think happened when we met back at the restaurant. Yes, he was right behind her.
In this blog I have restrained myself from the true descriptions of The Ambassador and his conversations - note I did not say "our" conversations, because he is the only one who talks - but let me try to sum it up here. While he is extremely nice, he thinks he is, um, the Bee's Knees of St. Barts. Or excuse me, St. Barth. But since we are not "in season" he is unable to show us how important and popular he really is. Yes, he does know a lot of people who work in the hospitality industry here, but wouldn't anyone after spending as much time here as he has? I feel kinda bad for him, he really wants people to like him and just goes about it the wrong way. And for me, it was really the wrong way. I get not so nice around people who irritate me and I'm pretty sure that became obvious when I told him at dinner to stop talking about himself and that I would rather sit in silence. I know it was totally rude but I just couldn't hear one more story about his belongings that are stranded in Bel-Air with his porsche at his ex-girlfriends house and how he practically owns the Beverly Hills Hotel, among other things. Anyhow, I think he felt bad because he ended up picking up our tab for another outstanding meal. Momentarily after the bill was paid, I bolted and could not get back to the villa fast enough......
At the ferry dock:
Ever see a moon in the sunlight?
Given that Suzanne and I (or at least I) have very few motherly instincts, I thought that after a quick hug it was OK for us to bolt out so we could get breakfast at La Creperie, which we did. One ham, egg and cheese and plate of bacon later, I was a very happy camper ready to do some power shopping before the conference call I had to take from the pool at noon. We had heard that the shops in St. Jean were better than in Gustavia (seriously, who really buys stuff at Christian Dior and Gucci other than sunglasses?) and they were definitely a little closer to my price range.
Both Suzanne and I spent the entire afternoon working /reading - Suzanne may have had a nap in there as well - then we had to get ready for our champagne sunset boat trip on the catamaran that we dove from yesterday. I put on my new St. Bart's wear and we headed out, and ended up getting to know some really great people on the boat, including a couple from L.A. on their honeymoon and of course Carol and Annette from yesterday. We sailed out to Columbier beach and settled in to watch the sunset while having snacks and sipping champagne. Nice. Not sure it was worth 80 euros per person though. We should have each also been provided with a hot frenchman to caress our backs while watching the sunset as well.
The Honeymooners:
Sunset, wishing for a hot frenchman:
Showing off my new fashions on the boat, I had to include this because it makes me laugh so very hard:
After having been directed by my sister to try as many of her recommended restaurants as possible, we chose O Corner in Gustavia, conveniently located for us after we docked. One would think that a place called O Corner would be an irish pub or some other casual place. Au contraire mon frere. Quite chic, again with the decor, the music, and as cheesy as I feel using this word - the "vibe". Paul was supposed to meet us there but was not there so I started to get worried and, while I headed back to the villa to see if he might be there and if he was joining us for dinner, Suzanne ran over to Le Strand to quickly meet The Ambassador. I gave her strict instructions that when I sent her a text stating "take a moment, say your goodbyes" she was to return to O Corner sans Ambassador. What do you think happened when we met back at the restaurant. Yes, he was right behind her.
In this blog I have restrained myself from the true descriptions of The Ambassador and his conversations - note I did not say "our" conversations, because he is the only one who talks - but let me try to sum it up here. While he is extremely nice, he thinks he is, um, the Bee's Knees of St. Barts. Or excuse me, St. Barth. But since we are not "in season" he is unable to show us how important and popular he really is. Yes, he does know a lot of people who work in the hospitality industry here, but wouldn't anyone after spending as much time here as he has? I feel kinda bad for him, he really wants people to like him and just goes about it the wrong way. And for me, it was really the wrong way. I get not so nice around people who irritate me and I'm pretty sure that became obvious when I told him at dinner to stop talking about himself and that I would rather sit in silence. I know it was totally rude but I just couldn't hear one more story about his belongings that are stranded in Bel-Air with his porsche at his ex-girlfriends house and how he practically owns the Beverly Hills Hotel, among other things. Anyhow, I think he felt bad because he ended up picking up our tab for another outstanding meal. Momentarily after the bill was paid, I bolted and could not get back to the villa fast enough......
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
A Day Full of Activity - Tuesday July 8
Holy cow I haven't done this much in one day since, well, Saturday I guess. This was Kevin (my nephew)'s only full day on the island so we wanted to pack it all in. We packed a picnic lunch for the beach (consisting of 4 pb&j's and a roasted chicken with 2 forks), stopping at Petite Colombe to supplement our snacks with some fresh baked goods. Petite Colombe supplies baked goods to the restaurants and has wonderful pastries. One of our purchases was an assorted bag of croissants, including chocolate, which had a life outside the store of about 1 minute.
We settled on Shell Beach because it is in Gustavia which is where we needed to be for our 2pm scuba trip. It was kind of funny to find that "Shell" beach is just at the end of a small road and has 2 areas full of shells (see below) but the rest is regular sand. I'm not sure what I was expecting but the 2 patches of shells weren't it! Cute though, and small in comparison to St. Jean and Flamands.
Shell Beach:
At Shell Beach is Do Brazil, a restaurant that seems to be on everyone's "to do in St. Barts" list. At first I thought it was a simple beach bar but then realized that the upstairs is where the restaurant is, and its quite festive.
Kevin, Paul and Suzanne at the bar:
The restaurant upstairs:
Following a relaxing morning at the beach, we headed to the dive boat, which, not surprisingly, was the nicest dive boat I have ever seen. Frank and the divemaster were so incredibly nice and accommodating, doing pretty much everything for us other than the actual dive. Suzanne and one of the other women on the boat went snorkeling while we dove, and it seems that they saw better fish life than we did, including 2 sharks, a hammerhead and a reef shark. I saw lots of purple sponges and a baby sea turtle, very pretty but not nearly as exciting as a shark. I loved that when we surfaced once again Frank did all the work. The other 2 women who were traveling together invited us to do a champagne sunset cruise with them on the dive boat tomorrow night and, given the VIP status of the boat and crew, we of course accepted the invitation.
A slice of the harbor in Gustavia:
On to St. Jean again, we thought Kevin would enjoy watching the planes, but it turned out that the big attraction was actually the big waves and the boogie boarding. It didn't even look like the same beach as Sunday, and we were loving it.
Taken from the beach at the end of the runway, arriving flight:
Suzanne and Kevin waiting for some waves:
Kevin on the Boogie Board:
best paparazzi photo of the day:
At this point we were dying for cheeseburgers so we thought Le Select would be a great choice, unfortunately, they don't start serving food until 5:30 and it was only 4:45 and we were sadly turned away. Match in St. Jean, however, saved the day. After a quick $100 stop for some grilling essentials, Paul fired up the grill at the villa and made some fabulous cheeseburgers that actually rivaled those from LeSelect. It was shortly thereafter that I think I fell asleep for the evening. Nothing beats a 12-hour night of sleep on vacation.......Little did I know that while I was catching some Z's, The Ambassador showed up at our door wanting to take Suzanne out for a drink. Huh. I cannot recall in my pathetic 20 year history of dating anytime where a suitor actually showed up at my door offering to take me out. But do I want the surprise date? I will have to ponder.
We settled on Shell Beach because it is in Gustavia which is where we needed to be for our 2pm scuba trip. It was kind of funny to find that "Shell" beach is just at the end of a small road and has 2 areas full of shells (see below) but the rest is regular sand. I'm not sure what I was expecting but the 2 patches of shells weren't it! Cute though, and small in comparison to St. Jean and Flamands.
Shell Beach:
At Shell Beach is Do Brazil, a restaurant that seems to be on everyone's "to do in St. Barts" list. At first I thought it was a simple beach bar but then realized that the upstairs is where the restaurant is, and its quite festive.
Kevin, Paul and Suzanne at the bar:
The restaurant upstairs:
Following a relaxing morning at the beach, we headed to the dive boat, which, not surprisingly, was the nicest dive boat I have ever seen. Frank and the divemaster were so incredibly nice and accommodating, doing pretty much everything for us other than the actual dive. Suzanne and one of the other women on the boat went snorkeling while we dove, and it seems that they saw better fish life than we did, including 2 sharks, a hammerhead and a reef shark. I saw lots of purple sponges and a baby sea turtle, very pretty but not nearly as exciting as a shark. I loved that when we surfaced once again Frank did all the work. The other 2 women who were traveling together invited us to do a champagne sunset cruise with them on the dive boat tomorrow night and, given the VIP status of the boat and crew, we of course accepted the invitation.
A slice of the harbor in Gustavia:
On to St. Jean again, we thought Kevin would enjoy watching the planes, but it turned out that the big attraction was actually the big waves and the boogie boarding. It didn't even look like the same beach as Sunday, and we were loving it.
Taken from the beach at the end of the runway, arriving flight:
Suzanne and Kevin waiting for some waves:
Kevin on the Boogie Board:
best paparazzi photo of the day:
At this point we were dying for cheeseburgers so we thought Le Select would be a great choice, unfortunately, they don't start serving food until 5:30 and it was only 4:45 and we were sadly turned away. Match in St. Jean, however, saved the day. After a quick $100 stop for some grilling essentials, Paul fired up the grill at the villa and made some fabulous cheeseburgers that actually rivaled those from LeSelect. It was shortly thereafter that I think I fell asleep for the evening. Nothing beats a 12-hour night of sleep on vacation.......Little did I know that while I was catching some Z's, The Ambassador showed up at our door wanting to take Suzanne out for a drink. Huh. I cannot recall in my pathetic 20 year history of dating anytime where a suitor actually showed up at my door offering to take me out. But do I want the surprise date? I will have to ponder.
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