Half of the Island of St. Martin is French, the other half (or less than that) Dutch.
I skipped, by bus, over the border past a little obelisk and Dutch/French flags for a morning in Caribbean France and the capital named Marigot: where the latest in luxury yachts floats by - some of them so 'spaced out', they seem to be headed for the Sea of Tranquility on the moon - or maybe to some shady dealings of the druggy netherworld.
French Couture competes with t-shirts. I looked at a little summery something, tres chic, haute qualitee also comes with the appropriate haute price - in Euros. Nothing, but nothing, not even a 'petit top' could be bought for less tham 200 Euros. Dresses and pants command prices between 400 and 600 Euros. At $ 4.50 minimum wage it would take a loooong time to dress a-la-mode for the regular Marigot resident. And tourists do not usually appreciate the finer points of haute couture at couture prices - they head for the open air market where the less costly bits and pieces fill dozens of stalls.
Bistros and bars advertising French cuisine lined the central squae of town. Mouthwatering menus - reasonable prices. Sidewalks hardly left room for pedestrians as tables filled every square inch between the buildings and the street. Good spot to buy a crusty bagette, or indulge in a liitle 'repas' whilst watching the fascinating parade of people wander by.
Being Christmas, reindeers, polar bears and penguins decorate the streets, and melodies of raggae--fied Christmas Carols fill the air. 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' to the sound and beat of steel drums seems to top the Mall Music of North America.
One could hang out here for a little while and enjoy the 'esprit de la mer Caribe' with a little 'je n'ais soit quoi'....
