Monday 8th March (Lini’s Journal) Ooo- La- La
Brindabella's Web Diary
Simon Williams
Thu 18 Mar 2010 11:36
dinghy to the marina to check in: We yearned for rain to clear the
air. Everything ashore was immediately very French from the chatter of
passing people with their stylish clothes, to the aroma of coffee and
croissants wafting from cafés and signs in shop windows. Luckily Si
wasn’t too long sorting the endless paperwork at customs and I’d only
half dissolved into a pool of perspiration while lurking outside.
Loaded down with laptops and anticipation of wifi we immediately hit
Café Mango Bay, Si ordered his coffee and pain au chocolat and we
settled at a table for a lengthy session on the internet. It had been
a couple of weeks since our last decent connection and there was lots
to catch up on. It was quite ironic that smiling as I opened an email
from my friend Ju who every week would laugh at my tales of clumsy
‘numpty’ moments as we called them, I shifted my chair back slightly
to stretch my back falling backwards off the raised area we were
seated on. OMG!!! How embarrassing! I heard gasps from all around in
that slow motion split second just before the chair and I hit the
floor behind and my hero came to my rescue. My pride hurt far more
than my bruises. With pink cheeks I added another paragraph to my
email relaying today’s numpty moment: I could almost see her laughing
as she opened it.
When my battery was flat and it became embarrassing to stay any
longer we packed up our toys and looked in on the chandlery before
scooting across the bay to Leader Price supermarket that Lynda had
recommended. Together with half a trolley full of drinking water
(curse the Spectra water maker!) we bought French wines, crusty
baguette and Si’s long awaited French brie. Back at home we were
treated to a sail past by a couple of local yoles. These wooden boats
have just one sail supported by two masts and depending on the wind
strength different sized sails and masts are hoist. To stabilise the
boat the sailors hang out on ‘oars’ sticking out the sides. The crews
today were novice school children but it must be quite a sight to
watch a race.
I had read that Martinique was a more humid island; why I’m not
sure, but as the sun sank lower after a stifling afternoon you could
see the moisture just hanging in the air. Tonight, like a fool in this
heat, I cooked a roast and although a pork steak trimmed of all fat
and dry roasted potatoes aren’t quite the same as roast pork with
crackling and crunchy potatoes it was still quite a treat for the
stones and I. To avoid temptation I made Si an individual apple and
cinnamon crumble for Si’s pud. We prayed for rain in the night as the
humid air condensed on the decks.