The Turtles had a second stop in St Barts and decided to rent a car to visit some of the beaches. The winding, very narrow roads strengthened the whole European feel that already envelopes St Barts. That is, until you look at the view over the Caribbean Sea with white yachts dotting the blue ocean. Now this is Paradise, with great food!
Tony had to “spin” the little red car up a couple of hills (you can take the man out of the West Rand but you can never get the West Rand out of the man…). All the wheel spinning was worth it, thought. The Turtles arrived at St. Jean beach where they had coffee while Tiny took her midday nap. They indulged in great sushi and then hopped off the verandah for a swim in the ocean. Being so “European” there were many a French bare breasted lady. Myrtle was a little worried leaving Tiny in Tony’s care… Tony may lose concentration and let Tiny float back to Hong Kong with the current! Luckily he appeared to give Tiny his undivided attention whilst swimming (not when he was back safely on dry land, but then again – he’s just a man).
St Barts is the Turtle’s dream island – if we ever had billions (millions won’t cut it), that’s where the Turtles would retire! Then again, they would have to buy a yacht too as the airport at St Barts is right on the sea and the landings looked nerve wrecking – it is supposedly one of the ten most dangerous airports in the world. The small planes almost plunged in the sea before touching down a couple of metres from the water…
The next stop was Martinique, also a French territory like St Barts. Theoretically the Turtles were supposed to have obtained visas to both St Barts and Martinique prior to arrival but they were only allowed to apply at the French Consulate in Hong Kong… However, they were not planning to journey back to Hong Kong for a visa that would have been used for a full three days. The cruise line was entitled to deny boarding if the Turtles didn’t have the correct visas but the Turtles chanced it. They prayed that they would not be banished and made to walk the plank when the officials found out and their prayers were answered. Nobody said one word and they enjoyed the two days in St Barts without a problem.
The day before they arrived in Martinique the Turtles received a message to report to the front desk and present their Shengen visas… A-hem. They were told that they had two choices: they could either stay on the ship or they could buy visas for 60 euros per person. For the ten hours on shore. Party because the Turtles were skaamkwaad (an Afrikaans expression meaning that you are embarrassed that you have been caught out and it makes you angry at anyone but yourself…) and partly because it was raining they decided that Martinique could take their visas and (as this is a family-blog Myrtle will not complete the rest of the sentence. You have permission to use your imagination.)
After breakfast the Turtles received another message. They were now allowed on shore without a visa... Of course they would hope to make some money off the tourists – if they don’t want to spend on a visa they may spend money on other cheap trinkets. As Myrtle had an affidavit that had to be witnessed by a “Notary Public” they decided to go for a walkabout in the mighty metropolis of Martinique. Myrtle received blank stares upon enquiring after the necessary Notary Public (Commissioner of Oaths, in South Africa) and she then asked to be pointed in the direction of the nearest police station. The port authority offical swallowed nervously and then said she would have to ask her supervisor. Myrtle was confused – how would you not know where the closest police station is? Anyway, Mr Supervisor approached Myrtle and asked politely what she wanted. “The nearest police station, please” she asked, equally polite. His eyes bulged and he licked his lips and then only did Myrtle click…they thought she wanted to report a crime or something similar. “We need to have a document witnessed” she quickly added and relief washed over Mr Supervisor’s face. “Ohhhh” he said and proceeded to give directions to the cop shop.
Unfortunately the police lady did not understand one word of English. Tony and Myrtle tried English, then Afrikaans but it didn’t do the trick. They don’t know sufficient French to make themselves understood (parle vous anglais doesn’t really count…) so, as a last resort, they started gesturing like imbeciles. Tony gave up and went outside with Tiny and at last Myrtle pretended to stamp her paper. A light went on and the lady disappeared into an office with the document. She came back with a stamp and a signature certifying that Myrtle signed the document in his/her presence. The fact that the document was not yet signed did not seem to bother anyone in the least…
After a brief stroll the rain-curtain came down and the Turtles ran back to the safety of their ship. Martinique is supposed to be the playground of the rich but unfortunately the Turtles didn’t spot any celebrities during their brief time on the island. Au revoir Martinique!
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