Friday, December 20, 2013


View from Motivator

We really enjoy the French islands.  What’s not to enjoy?  The streets are clean.  There are few security concerns.  And the food is great!

La Poste

On Terre-de-Haut, in les Saintes, the weather is so nice, that everyone rides a scooter.  Even the mail is delivered by scooter.

Did I mention the food?  We were ecstatic about finding this place open because we had missed it on our other visits.

While we have been waiting out the Christmas Wind, we have dined here twice.  Pollie tried Colombo de Poulet and Daurade ȃla Coȇrmede, curried chicken and the maui maui.  While I tried the Cȃtelettes d’agneau auv herbes and Cassoulet Maisson, grilled lamb chops and a casserole with white beans, duck, chicken and sausage.

The other English speaker on the island

As you might have guessed, the only downside on French islands is that they speak French.  And, us?  Not so much.

Pollie does better than me, and she can even count to 15 which is sometimes useful.  Yes, we do have the common phrases down: 

                        Bonjour                                   Good morning!
                        Bonsoir                                    Good evening!
                        Merci (beaucoup)                    Thank you (very much)
                        Au revoir                                 Good bye!
                        Oὐ sont les toilettes                  Where is the bathroom?

Unfortunately the one I know best is l’addition s’il vous plaȋt , the bill, please?

The grocery store can be a challenge.  Luckily most products have pictures, but not all.  We were hoping this was sour cream, and this time we were not surprised.

Les Saintes Multi-Services (LSM) services the mooring balls in the harbor and is the place to go for customs check in.  They have a launch that patrols the harbor to collect mooring fees, delivers baguettes, etc.  On a previous visit to Terre-de-Haut, the launch came by Motivator, and the guy was yelling, “poubelle, poubelle.” 

So, I went and grabbed the ship’s papers to show him we had checked in and paid for the mooring.  But, he just kept saying “poubelle,” and then left when all I could do was give him the minimum wage stare.

 Later in Antigua, we learned what poubelle meant.

No comments:

Post a Comment