Saturday morning Glen had his last scientific session. Some think these trips are junkets but science is discussed as well as issues related to being a chair. Glen comes home feeling a little bit wiser and often helps other chairs solve problems he's already faced.
I had taken to enjoying our balcony when Glen worked, reading to while away the time. I also watched those who sauntered the beach or lounged by the pool. It was a great way to spend the morning.
But, I was ready to go on our Island Tour when the meetings ended. Seven of us piled into the van at 12:30 and were whisked away with promises of lunch on the French side. First, though we had to stop at the biggest souvenir shop, Rima Beach World, in Philipsburg. We all grumbled as we alighted but Glen found some cheap Hawaiian shirts that appealed to him. The shopping bag was decidedly feminine so I ended up carrying it. We took some funny pics of him in a mock-microbus then departed for a lookout.
Several on the bus hinted at hunger and our driver assured us we'd eat soon. The view from the mountain was great but a fastfood stand had our mouths watering. No one wanted to chance eating there so we boarded the bus with hopes the next stop would mean food.
Not so, our driver took us to the airport to show us where the people stand to get blasted by sand and jet engines. He said he usually stops there to wait for planes but the bus was becoming surly so we moved on.
We then saw time-shares, condos, and a new shopping mall that was supposed to be finished 2 years ago. After crossing into the French side, we passed the gates to Oprah's house and van Morrison's. Our guide pointed out everything from the island's biggest car dealership to the local elementary schools but gave us little in the way of history of the island and I never learned why English is spoken by most of its inhabitants.
Finally, we demanded he stop soon for lunch as we were all starving. It was 3:00 pm when we stumbled out of the bus and into Sarafina's deli in Marigot. I was so hungry my brain had shut down and I couldn't choose my meal. I told Glen I'd eat what he had and we ended up with fancy cheese sandwiches. I barely tasted the brie and crispy baguette, though. We wandered the market area but most stalls were empty. Sarafina's also sells ice cream but Glen waited until we had to leave to be served so I guess we came at the wrong time.
We drove through Marigot passing the French side airport, and onto Orient Bay where the famous clothing optional beach is located. Apparently, a man bought the property for $40,000 many years ago and then leased the land to hotels, restaurants, and condos. There are several beaches and access to Pinel Island (where we had lunch on our snorkeling trip). It is here those who come to the island via cruise ships go to enjoy the sun and the sand.
We returned to the hotel in plenty of time to shower and prepare for the final banquet. I ended up ironing in the bathroom as it was big enough and had the most accessible plug. Everyone commented that you could have a party in the bathroom and they were so right. The shower was a good 5 feet square and the bathtub was almost a spa. A four foot vanity ran between the two and that's where I set up the ironing board.
We had a buffet supper with an island band playing in the background. After eating, a singer and four dancing girls came out to entertain us. He hauled Glen and Joel onto the stage and had them trying to swivel their hips like the dancers. It was pretty funny. Then he sang an island song in which I anticipated the ending. He came over and shoved the mike into my face and asked me to explain the final verse. I struggled (too much wine and nerves) and he wasn't happy with my version so sang it himself. I told Glen I should have pulled a Bruce Willis from the movie Fifth Element and said nothing.
The girls changed costumes and returned for the next song. It was fun to watch and the music was great but having seen so many dance shows, I realized these girls needed more rehearsing. I've been spoiled with many years of watching incredible dance.
Then the band began a lively number and the singer pointed at me and told me I was to lead the conga line. I hoped he meant the lady beside me but no. Well, I can't do the steps of a conga line at the best of times but I didn't let that stop me. I began dancing, waving my cloth napkin in the air. Glen and Sheilah jumped in behind me. We danced around the room and pretty soon most had joined us. It was a blast!!
Having broken the ice, it didn't take long before couples were up dancing and enjoying themselves. The evening ended at eleven but we joined the other Canadian chair, Ray, and his wife, Kathy, (from Sherbrooke, Québec) for a beer at the lobby bar.
The next morning I was accused of being the life of the party so I had to relive a rather embarrassing moment. Hopefully by next year, everyone will have forgotten my escapade.
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