I got back to my apartment on Rue de Flamboyants right before a downpour happened, so I took a nap, recharged my phone and worked on a blog entry. When it stopped raining, I sat in the back garden for a while – it was very private, and besides the pots of flowers and other plants, the chickens were out of their coop, with the roosters providing amusement by going after each other and crowing, although it was mid-afternoon, not dawn. Late afternoon I decided to stroll back to the restaurant and shopping area by the harbor, and decide where I wanted to eat. All the tourist boats had come back from their afternoon trips and were unloading or preparing for the next day. I looked at the possible boat trips but decided again I wanted to take it slow on my last day, Friday, and just hang around the beach and town here. I began checking out restaurants – a lovely one overlooked the harbor from its upstairs location – but none started serving dinner until 7:00 PM, and it wasn’t even 6:00 PM yet. It was then that I ended up talking to another couple from the states – we were used to US dinner times starting at 5:00 PM.
While deciding what to do, another rainstorm began, so I sheltered temporarily in a bar. But I really didn’t want anything alcoholic to drink, and was told their restaurant also didn’t open until sept heures. I window shopped under shelter and gradually made my way back to the street when the rain let up. Then I got trapped for several minutes by a downpour, but made it to an art shop while I was waiting. The art shop was to benefit turtle sanctuaries and had lovely water colors, but I didn’t have funds or room in my suitcase to take anything home. Finally I dashed across the street to Creole Village and tried to decide which restaurant to try. I ended up at the top in a modernistic restaurant Infiniti. I was the first customer, arriving a little before 7. I wasn’t really hungry, but wanted something to tide me over through the night. There was some kind of daily special, and I tried to translate, recognizing camembert as a cheese and guessing at Truff as a mushroom. The waitress didn’t speak English but she called the bartender over, and he translated that it was an appetizer meant for companions, with baguette and cheese. I had him suggest a wine to go with it – I got vin rouge. And best of all, he offered the password for their internet! So, for the first time on Martinique I was able to get online, check email, and social media. My smart phone informed me it was freezing back in Upstate New York, while it was 73 in the evening there in Martinique.
I ended up in a WhatsApp long chat with my youngest daughter – she’d told me to download it because it can be used internationally even when phone texting isn’t available. We chatted about the challenges of my trying to remember French from back in my high school days – she told me “I want” is “je voudrais” – I’d been saying “je desire.” We both complained about the zika virus scare, and she wished she could have been with me. I definitely want to come back here – 3 days was not nearly long enough, and hope she’ll be able to come with me.
When I checked my email, I had another message from a high school friend – we’re talking about a big trip together to celebrate our 65th birthdays. After I responded to her original message, I saw in another email that Norwegian Airlines was announcing another sale to the Caribbean – this one starting next November. Apparently they cease service May – October and only fly November – April. The cheapest flight from NYC was only $49 one way ($149 cheapest to return). Holy cr*p! I wrote her. We may have to consider this!
Although I made a valiant attempt, I couldn’t finish the whole camembert by myself, and asked for it to be wrapped to take back to my apartment. Although it wasn’t yet 9:00 PM, I was ready to relax and unwind in my temporary quarters.