Last night the missing chair turned up — mystery solved: we have a ghost! Laszlo hopes it’s a pirate’s soul, one that was dashed on the rocks hundreds of years ago while trying to hide his gold. I’m more hoping it’s a bronzed, oiled-up, spear-carrying Arawak. Whoever it is, he’s got good taste in chairs. Here is a random gratuitous unrelated beach scene, by the way. (That’s why we’re here, right?)
Experience of the day: sometimes? those little mosquito-repellant coils? the ones you burn? and they smell like incense? they are sometimes really toxic? And make you tired? … read on, noble reader…
Lala, in a fit of housekeeping fervor, lit one of those little coils, left it on while she went to zumba. The house was unlivable after that, and we had to go sleep in the separate bungalow.
This would have been fine and good, except for then the world’s largest storm (opinions on this vary widely, as Laszlo insists “it was nothing,” hit St Barthelemy. All night long we were pummeled and shaken and terrified by the wrath of God or Kahn or someone I pissed off at Starbucks who then died and held a grudge. Even the lizards, who like to take refuge in the house to Laszlo’s undying horror, wouldn’t go near the main house: the nefarious mosquito coil was keeping all beings away. All beings — except for mosquitos. They came in the usual droves.
Today, when we finally woke up from the tempest, we went to write and paint at Le Tamarin. Visitors to St. Barthelemy: if you need a cute lunch spot (dinner as well) GO TO LE TAMARIN. It’s delicious and the little “garden” is filled with interesting furniture-type stuff, buddhas, pillows, parrots, etc. It has a French Polynesian flair and has been in existence for 25 years. The owner Sabine is awesome and supports Lala in her ban of all things two-wheeled when it comes to island transportation. Hear that, Laszlo? NO SCOOTER FOR YOU.
Here are some more gratuitous pictures of St. Barth’s beaches and stuff.
- Labreia Colada for Windy Nights in St. Barth’s (lalalabreia.wordpress.com)
- You don’t have to be American to stake a claim to half of the beach, the French do it too! (lalalabreia.wordpress.com)