So, while Junk Drawer Kathy was off gallavanting around Paris “showing her wares”, I was getting my “Bon Jour” on in the French Caribbean. On a little island known as St. Martin. Or as some weirdos call it, St. Maarten.
About that. In case you didn’t already know, there are actually two countries on this 8 mile-wide tropical paradise. The northern French side, where I stayed, is called St. Martin, while the southern Dutch side is called St Maarten. The island so nice, they named it twice.
This is the place with those famous plane landings, where stupid people stand on the beach and get exhausted on when the planes land and blown away when the planes take off.
It’s like going to Venice, Italy, asking the nearest pigeon where the trendiest statue is, and then standing underneath it all day, just to see what it’s like.
It’s not as if St. Maarten doesn’t warn you about these gargantuan pigeons:
Here’s a close up:
And yet, there’s always a crowd standing out there. It’s a major tourist attraction. Bars flank each end of the beach catering to the slightly saner ones who wish to take pictures from a distance.
The plane arrival schedule is posted on a surf board at the Sunset Bar and Grill.
I captured some of the insanity, so sit back, relax, and enjoy these flights:
