St. Maarten
The last time I went to St. Maarten was in the early 1990′s. We stayed at a wonderful little resort called Mullet Bay. I distinctly remember the pretty little birds fluttering in the open air lobby during check in.
Okay, St. Maarten fifteen years later is still beautiful, but I was floored how this place built up. I mean, it went from quiet and unspoiled to overbuilt and congested. St. Maarten, sadly, has been discovered.
And Mullet Bay? As our cab pulled around the bend it sits on, I saw a once grandiose Caribbean hideaway shuttered and destroyed by a hurricane. The owner took the insurance money and ran, leaving my idea of paradise shuttered in a box of memories.
That aside, we were one of four-yes, four-large ships to arrive.
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St. Maarten is separated into two sides-the Dutch side and the French side. Mullet Bay was on the Dutch side, which remains the more congested half of the island. The French side is…ummm…how to say this….more bare than the Dutch side, boasting a grandiose beach that is clothing optional. The beach is beautiful, but photos are not allowed. It also sits right next to a regular beach for those feeling a bit shy.
Both sides have become incredibly built up, and you will find some suburb restaurants here.
So we started in the Dutch capital of Philipsburg, where our cabbie took us to his friend’s-I mean, where the cabbie took us to a souvenir shop of his choice.
Up a hill overlooking the group of monster ships.
We just drove around catching some glimpses. . The French side makes up about two thirds of the island.
Oddly, a key attraction is the airport. The airport sits real close between the Dutch side and the French side (the border, by the way, is a little sign you’d miss if you weren’t looking).
First, the main runway leads into the face of a mountain. Yes! When a plane takes off, it has to climb steeply and turn, or else…
Secondly, never before have I been at a runway parking area, and saw a large sign that reads, “Beware of jet exhaust. The heat can kill you.”
The runway is so close to the road, if you sit there and actually watch the planes take off and land, the engines can burn you to a crisp. That’s’ how close the plane gets to the runway parking area.
Although geographically larger, the French side seems quieter, less commercial.
Looking back on the French-side capital of Marigot. Famed Orient beach of “clothing optional” fame sits back there somewhere. The beach is half clothed, half optional. It was a pretty beach and I wanted to take photos, but the minute my camera came out, the guards quickly reminded me photos were not allowed.
And back to Philipsburg we go.
The town of Philipsburg is also a quaint town, lined with shopping. This changed, too, as a lot of wonderful, unique
little shops disappeared and gave way to row upon row of jewelry stores.
And as the sun began to set, and the sky began to darken, and we had to head back to our ship.
That a large crane stood between me and the great sunset made me reflect on how this little island has changed in such a short, short time.