Saint Martin (or Sint Maarten) is in unusual place, in that it is a single island of not too great of a size that is split in two between two countries.
The local legend is that a Frenchman took a bottle of wine and a Dutchman a bottle of gin, and agreed to walk the island and split it in two where they met. Supposedly the Dutch side is smaller because of the gin…
The French side of St. Martin is a French protectorate, essentially a part of France. Which I am very grateful for as I’ve always been a bit of a Francophile with an inordinate fondness for crusty baguettes, flavorful cheese, escargot and of course full bodies dry wines. All of which are readily available on the French side of the island.
The principle town on the French side is Marigot, pictured above from the top of Fort Louis. There is a curving open harbor, and a town full of restaurants and cafes with a couple of decent bakeries, an open air market, hotels, and French Groceries.
My parents decided to catch up with us in St. Martin, and we suggested they base operations on the French side. By reputation the French side is where you eat, the Dutch side is where you shop. This seems to be pretty true. My parents took a hotel for the first few days of their stay which proved fortunate as we ended up taking longer to get to St. Martin than we expected.
When we arrived we picked my parents up and brought them to the boat. The weather was expected to be nice, except for a large Northerly swell that was coming in from a weather system in the North Atlantic. That broad crescent shaped harbor is open to the North, and it was expected that there would be large waves and rolls coming directly in to the harbor. It was a wise move to the Fort Louis Marina which is inside the curved sea wall you can see in the picture above. We ordinarily don’t do marinas (for a lot of reasons) but with my parents on board and us not really sure of the layout of the area it seemed prudent. So to the marina it was to wait out the swells and explore Marigot.
There is a lot to like in Marigot. Breakfast daily meant a trip to Sarafina, a local bakery (or boulangerie) where the croissants, pain au chocolat (chocolate croissants), and baguettes are all to die for. Kathy and I were reminded of our visits to France where we visited the boulangeries daily and lived on baguettes, cheese and wine for half of our meals. Dinner most nights we went looking for a nice French brasserie or cafe – really good French cooking in a casual setting; more reasonable than a more formal restaurant on price but the food is still outstanding.
By the end of this my children are now also committed Francophiles. Will is now willing to try any sauce a French chef will stick in front of him and my escargots are no longer safe from Danielle. Much to my chagrin. The impact is surprising though, it’s interesting to see my children order things in a restaurant they’ve never tried – like duck – and enjoy it, and it’s amusing to take Will to the cheese counter in the French grocery and pick out some of the “more intimidating” looking cheeses.
When the swells let up it was time to leave the marina and do a bit of exploring. We sailed to nearby Grand Case, a small former fishing village that has morphed into one of the gastronomic centers of the island. Our timing was poor though, on Tuesdays Grand Case has a “Mardi Gras” every week, where they close off the main street and have street performers, food, and music. We were not there on Tuesday, unfortunately. We really didn’t get to give Grand Case a chance to showcase it’s strengths for a few reasons, but partly because we couldn’t see clear to go into the much more expensive restaurants after so much great dining in Marigot.
After Grand Case we headed to Anguilla for the weekend, then returned with my parents to Marigot, where they had a hotel room awaiting them for the last few days of their stay.
Although we’ve seen more of the island since then, including the Dutch side, the “lagoon”, and some of Marigot’s Carnivale those are all subjects for another post!
