Island Adventures PT 4 -Final Hours… Clothes Optional


Sunday morning we woke up to no running water, maybe it’s the island vibes, maybe its the love I feel for this island, maybe it’s the empathy I feel for the rebuild, I donned my swimsuit and jumped in the pool. Oh Well…  Tt’s not a shower but it will do. I could choose to be irritated by this minor inconvenience or I can get preset, get creative and enjoy the blessings of the morning.


Last night when we got back my aunt messaged me to remind me that I had cousins living on the island and after a quick message to one of them, we agreed to meet for breakfast. They picked us up so we can travel in one vehicle and chat and took us to a beautiful restaurant (yes, finally, a place that takes credit cards – clearly, we were not doing it right in our choices). After a fabulous breakfast of fresh fruit, mango juice and French toast, yes by real French people, we took a ride out to the “clothes optional” beach.


I knew instinctively that the “clothes optional” beach was not going to be for me. I commented in the car on our way there “So, does clothes optional actually have hot bodies or is it a bunch of gray hair, body wrinkles and no package” “Do black and brown people go clothes optional?” “Do young hot bodies go clothes optional?”.  I get the instinctively feeling that the people who opt for “clothes optional” are the people who are old enough to say “Fuck It, I don’t give two shits about anything or”, and it’s not usually our A.M.E. grandmas, they would have a come to Jesus moment before a clothes optional moment, just saying.  As I thought,  it was sorely lacking – no pun intended. The views though, were to die for. Never, ever had I seen bluer skies and greener waters.


This is also where I came to the realizations that we had visited several of the beaches on this island throughout our stay and I had not seen one single sea shell on a beach.  Typically, wherever I travel and visit the beach, even at home in FL, I bring home one shell as a souvenir. It didn’t have to be perfect, I oftentimes actually find the broken ones, I’ve never labeled where I got them but just put them all in one jar in my guest bathroom, but I have not found one single shell in St Marteen.  I commented about this and my cousin’s wife, who’s knowledge of the island is amazing,  mentioned that I probably would have a better them finding a piece of coral, she explained why but I didn’t catch it all.

On the ride back to my cousins place, we stopped at a sign in the road. Here I understood was the border between the dutch and the french sides of the island. Essentially, one foot in the Netherlands and one foot in France. The smallest border in the world probably and… there are no walls at this border.


At my cousin’s place, A beautiful condo overlooking the ocean, the view from his bedroom window and living room patio is to die for. We watched the boats of the Heineken Regatta right outside is home. A pelican colony nearby, I watched as one swooped down occasionally into the ocean coming back up with a fish every once in a while.  We spent some time hanging out with our cousins and then went off to check out some more planes landing and taking off while we ate lunch at the Sunset Bar on Maho Beach before we returned the rental car and made our way to the terminal.


A while later, high in the sky, I closed the book I had brought with me as reading material for the plane ride and looked out the window. The sun was setting and watching the sunset from the skies, above the clouds would leave anyone awestruck.


Homeward Bound, St Martin On My Mind.


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