St. Maarten, May 14, 2014 –The Island Forts

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Photos for this trip can be found through this link.

Day 5 on the island, and we're definitely getting into the timeless nature in the spaces of our day. We didn't have to be anywhere by any time, nor be anywhere at all except where we were at any time; but, to keep us current, we managed to be on time for our happy hour interlude. We started the day with our usual balcony breakfast of cereal, bananas, coffee and sugarbird companions. We watched early risers running the beach, and others trolling with their metal detectors for a chance at the big prize of someone else's misfortune. The beach below us was beautifully manicured for the day's destruction by rampant sun worshipers out to impress. The morning haze promised afternoon humidity, and we decided to ignore it by grabbing our camera gear and heading out for a couple of climbs to the forts of St. Martin.

Fort Amsterdam is just a short climb behind Divi Little Bay Beach Resort, which is a pleasant walk from our Belaire suite. On our way up the hill we shot a few spots, perhaps just to take a break on the climb. We noticed the flow in their Endless Pool had ended, and we chatted with the maintenance guys who promised to correct the interruption as if we were impatient guests insisting on getting what we paid for. Once they realized we'd prefer they took the day off to enjoy the inactivity, the conversation turned to smiles. Soon we turned to resume our climb, and they returned to their work.

Once at the fort, we separated to pursue our own muse, although I got Ray in the shot often enough. Here is one where I lined up my Canon to shoot him as if with the ancient namesake rusting in its cradle in the shot. As was the other morning we were on this hilly peninsula known as Fort Amsterdam, there were others about, enjoying the view and the immediate sense of history, some with cameras inhand. Including Ray, however, I was the only photog with a tripod. Well, I HAD to justify my lugging it in my luggage, right? I got to meet a few other photogs while milling about the ruins, and enjoyed talking photography with them, realizing that the late morning light would give us little more than creative snapshots. Soon the threat of rain flooded the atmosphere, and Ray and I headed home to the Belaire. In spite of our speed, we were caught in the Divi Little beach bar where we sipped on our $4 bottles of water waiting out the short downpour.

We got back in time to wish Patsey a short day of work, and headed for our rental and another pass over this magnificent island. Today, though, we had a destination in mind. We were headed back to Marigot, near where we stopped once yesterday, to visit the French Fort Louis.

We got to Marigot just in time for the worst light for photography, so the photos again are more documentary than inspirational. The roads in this beautiful French-side town are much like they are in any area with a long history; they are paved-over paths that once went from one house to an oft-visited neighbor, and now the paving has turned to pocking. Ray remembered there was a narrow road (sheesh... they were ALL narrow) with a church sitting at a T where we were supposed to turn to find a parking spot that would lessen our climb. After missing the turn, it took us some time through traffic and narrow turns to get another chance, but on the second pass we nailed it. We drove a narrow path where our rental wasn't designed to travel, and were rewarded with a parking space right at the start of the footpath that leads to the fort.

Unless this is the first blog of mine you're reading, you'll know that it's not my style to write out history of place or names of things. The Humankind data base of knowledge is becoming increasingly extensive and accessible, and is certainly not in need of my input. For me it's more about the people I'm with and those I meet along the way, which the written form thereof is surely another commodity the world could do nicely without. Ray was his usual bullet of enthusiastic energy enhancing the beauty of the day, but the others we met on the hill were a mixture of selfish contrast that could easily diminish an optimist's hope for our species' continuance. As we got out of the car a family of five squeezed by with little or no concern for our safety. They parked in a spot that blocked two other cars from leaving. When they got out, the two kids threw their wax cups of unfinished soda to the curb while mom emptied the rest of the trash from the car. The one ray of hope was a young teen who passed us on the climb; she was in a hurry to see her boyfriend who promised to meet her at the top. Most people, photographers in particular, will notice the camera on my face and wait for me to complete the shot, but there was one couple there that was amusingly oblivious to the presence of others. It was amazing how many times they simply ignored others to get their shot. I kept waiting for the Candid Camera crew to come out to reveal the sham, but... When we climbed back in our car and backed out of our space, a pickup full of people pulled behind us. We waited for everyone to get out and head for the hill, but then the driver just sat there as if he was planning to wait right there for their return. I left the engine running when I got out to suggest an alternate plan. Man, it's sometimes easy to see why the natives hate tourists.

We drove back to the sea-level part of town and parked to enjoy the daily-changing configuration of merchant booths in the Marigot Market. Barb & I had been there once before in 2003. Our cruise ship docked in Phillipsburg and bused us to Marigot. The restaurant where we ate is still there, and it's likely many of the local merchants are the same. I bought a couple hand-painted thimbles for Barb's collection, and Ray found a few interesting souvenirs for his girls back home. He also bought a couple small works of art from a very gifted mother manning a booth with her baby. A thick French accent gave us directions to an out-of-the-way restaurant, a favorite of the locals, which we finally found. We filled our faces with island food and French wine, then took a long ride back for happy hour at the Belair. We drove through Maho Beach after exploring the surrounding area, and made plans for returning tomorrow for some shots of the big planes departing and landing just overhead.

Before giving up on the day, we took a walk to the far side of the Divi Little to shoot some night shots. After a quick stop for a couple drinks at the Belair bar, where they had some good 50s rock show, we headed back to the suite to look up the next day's flight times over Maho Beach and fall asleep to Kill Bill, Volume 2.

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