J.P’s on a roll - mercredi, 20.06.07

Mercredi 20.06.07 J.P’s on a roll

I sleep late. Subsequently I haven’t had breakfast when Natalie rings - so I have her for breakfast! She’s spinning me some story about the plumber being blocked at another job. Well, I can’t stay here babysitting a leaky tap. It’s a problem but it’s her problem. She tells me it’ll be sorted on Friday.

Sustenance is needed so I head for Deli France for my usual. I bump into the fish lady who’s going under the guise of a mango madame today. She produces three beautiful mangoes and gives them to me for my impromptu dinner donation/coke contribution last week.

I picnic on the beach – the ants don’t bother me but of course the locals are drawn to a single white female eating an overloaded tuna roll with about as much grace as a ravenous Rasta feasting on re-retrieved rations. I just act dumb. No speak French. Or no-speak-at-all seems like the best strategy. I’m reading a silly book titled The Island: Martinique. I bought it on amazon when I was in Ireland. I was looking for a travel guide but this is a travel novel. I’ve saved it till now because I didn’t want it to colour my opinion. No fear of that because I can’t plough through the heavy, convoluted analogies and parallels between the author’s marriage metaphors which he intertwines with cultural blah-blah-blah… I may tackle it again on the plane – or just make miniature paper aeroplanes out of it.

Cécile is coming to Trois Ilets. Coming like Christmas. She has two friends over from France and they’re planning to hit the beach. I’ve already bathed, bronzed and booked myself for the day by the time she texts to tell me she’s just getting the boat. I’m not obliged to join them so I don’t.

As it happens Cécile contacted me this morning looking for the lad’s contact details as she wanted to send them some news. I check my emails and find out that Oliver and J.V have been boozing and reminiscing, and I’m just in the door when Lionel calls me. He has been on holidays for the past month and met up with Alex a few times. He says it was hard adjusting to life without the sea and palm trees beside him and he constantly wishes he could be transported back to the beach. Dream a dream.

Before I can head to bed however I get a call from J.P. Such a saga. The poor guy parked his car on a hill and either left the handbrake off or someone gave the car an almighty shove because it rolled down the incline into another vehicle. Thankfully nobody was injured but J.P is leaving Martinique in a week and was to sell his car this weekend. However, this is not the end of the car chaos. I’m presented with a letter for Nicola which turns out to be another speeding fine. Ouch! It pains me to clock up how much she has forked out for her zippiness. 72kmph in a 60km zone. Man, after all that drama I’m tyred!