Many moon ago, when I was a tender young girl of thirteen, we made our first trip to St. Maartan. We knew the island had been split down the middle, half the island owned by France, and half the island owned by the Dutch. We knew it was home to some of the most gorgeous beaches ever. BUT, no one reminded us that those silly lovely Europeans are completely swim-suit optional.
So, my brother (at the even tenderer age of eleven) is hitting my arm while we poke around a little beach shop, and I turn around to yell at him, and there, standing before us, in all her wrinkly glory, is a completely naked ninety year old woman.
So, now eleven years later, we learned our lesson.
|The most perfect day.|
|St. Maartan definitely had the best shopping of all the islands.|
|Just being awesome.|
Sadly, this was the last of our island adventures. With the exception of a few more ship pictures, my vacation documentation is almost over!
Right now, I think I’m in Kakamega. (Who knows with all these auto-posts going!)
I’ll be home soon!