Samedi 05.05.07 Washing machin
Boom. Boom. It’s great to wake up to the sound of hopping beach tunes filtering through the air. The beach is always animated and this morning it’s bouncing with Bob Marley. Our washing machine is also bouncing, but even though it’s the weekend it shouldn’t be doing that.
Ring. Ring. I get a call from the residential reception to tell me that a repairman will be around before lunch; I can hear them phone me as my window is open and the reception is only a sweeping-brush stroke away.
Knock. Knock. I arrive at the door in my full length night dress – seductive! They ask if I’m Canadian; I suppose I do have an Alanis Morrisette look about me this morning. I hop over to the Irish flag and tell them otherwise before offering them some Irish tea. The repairman offers me ten euro cent; it was the reason our machine was going mad.
I had arranged to meet Cecile and Francine at the beach but I’ve been busy doing nothing all morning and by the time I hit Point du Bout they’re ready to return to Fort-de-France. I’ve brought my laptop with me so it wouldn’t have been the smartest thing to bring it to the beach anyway. It’s lunchtime and so I settle into the Wifi restaurant to try out their connection and continental salad. The salads nice and I can pick up the Wifi but for some reason unknown to me I can’t actually connect to the internet.
I reckon I’ve been baked enough today so I head home to sort through those boxes and bags which are waiting for me in the corner of my room. Evening time swings around and I’m still up to my ankles in paper and trinkets.
Nic has been away all afternoon giving private lessons. We make plans for the night and decide to bite the bullet by taking the last boat over to Fort-de-France. The company we usually travel with, Madiana, leaves Point du Bout at 21,30 so we’re there in plenty of time to inquire about the rival companies services. According to France-Antilles newspaper Navettes du Soleil have a midnight run and a 01,00 run from Fort-de-France. But as we’re sitting in the Terminal Café sipping our Leffes and eating pumpkin pastries I can clearly see that no such service exists. We wander down to the Mayflower. Francine and some weirdo girl are standing outside McDonald’s and they later follow us into the bar. There’s hardly a soul on board but there is a baby mouse in the house. One of the barmaids picks it up and everyone makes a spectacle of it.
Boom. Boom. It’s great to wake up to the sound of hopping beach tunes filtering through the air. The beach is always animated and this morning it’s bouncing with Bob Marley. Our washing machine is also bouncing, but even though it’s the weekend it shouldn’t be doing that.
Ring. Ring. I get a call from the residential reception to tell me that a repairman will be around before lunch; I can hear them phone me as my window is open and the reception is only a sweeping-brush stroke away.
Knock. Knock. I arrive at the door in my full length night dress – seductive! They ask if I’m Canadian; I suppose I do have an Alanis Morrisette look about me this morning. I hop over to the Irish flag and tell them otherwise before offering them some Irish tea. The repairman offers me ten euro cent; it was the reason our machine was going mad.
I had arranged to meet Cecile and Francine at the beach but I’ve been busy doing nothing all morning and by the time I hit Point du Bout they’re ready to return to Fort-de-France. I’ve brought my laptop with me so it wouldn’t have been the smartest thing to bring it to the beach anyway. It’s lunchtime and so I settle into the Wifi restaurant to try out their connection and continental salad. The salads nice and I can pick up the Wifi but for some reason unknown to me I can’t actually connect to the internet.
I reckon I’ve been baked enough today so I head home to sort through those boxes and bags which are waiting for me in the corner of my room. Evening time swings around and I’m still up to my ankles in paper and trinkets.
Nic has been away all afternoon giving private lessons. We make plans for the night and decide to bite the bullet by taking the last boat over to Fort-de-France. The company we usually travel with, Madiana, leaves Point du Bout at 21,30 so we’re there in plenty of time to inquire about the rival companies services. According to France-Antilles newspaper Navettes du Soleil have a midnight run and a 01,00 run from Fort-de-France. But as we’re sitting in the Terminal Café sipping our Leffes and eating pumpkin pastries I can clearly see that no such service exists. We wander down to the Mayflower. Francine and some weirdo girl are standing outside McDonald’s and they later follow us into the bar. There’s hardly a soul on board but there is a baby mouse in the house. One of the barmaids picks it up and everyone makes a spectacle of it.
We’ve met Nicolas, Nicolas’ friend, at the bar and us three hang out all night. Once the Mayflower shuts it’s down the road we go to Little Buddha. Nicolas is wearing sandals and we have to barter with the bouncer to let him in. We’re going to splash out on expensive drinks as it is so he obliges and we’re soon sipping on vodka and spinning around the dance floor. I meet some people from Schoelcher and we boogy the night away until Dawn comes and brings the early navette with her.
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