Do I Have to be Here?

Can I be honest right now? I’m high key depressed. Having to sit in this whack ass one bedroom apartment picking sunburned skin off my nose is running me dry. I can’t help but to think ‘Just a few days ago, I was nursing my hangovers in a suite with a balcony that had views of nice ass yachts and a beautiful cliffside. I’m pissed! But writing to you about my experience in St. Martin is giving me a little relief.

After a gang of mix ups at the airport and a little bout with motion sickness from the rollercoaster ride in the car, we finally made it to Secrets Resort. I’ve never been greeted with champagne before. In my more recent travels, all I’ve been receiving is guided trips to the anti-bacterial spray. The champagne turned my entire group up. We finally made it on our first international trip. It’s been a long time coming. Our first trip was cancelled due to corona so we were all eager for our overseas do over. Secrets was a great restart for us. We marveled at our room for about thirty seconds, then headed back out to view the hotel grounds. Instagramable photo areas and pretty cocktails were around every corner. This is my type of set up. We decided to take a quick stroll to the private beach. Similar to most Caribbean beaches, the water is the perfect hue of blue and just the right temperature to cannonball into. We ended our first night with cocktails in the jacuzzi. The spa tub was large enough to fit twenty, but no one else was around to join our group, so each of us got to relax our bodies on our own jets. This was the best after all that flying we’d just endured. I seriously needed those pulsing jets on my back since we were riding ATVs the next morning.

Now I do consider myself one of the biggest tomboys you’ll ever meet, but I’m not into motorcycles or four-wheelers. I opted to ride on the back of my homegirl’s ATV. I prefer seeing the sights in an air conditioned tour bus. I was actually able to snap some fire ass pictures hanging out of a city bus in Aruba. You see, there’s levels to my dangerousness. I wasn’t able to get many great photos on the back on the ATV, but I’m sure I have better views of St. Maarten in my head than anybody else on the tour. While everybody was stressing out about braking on time and leaning far enough to the left while making a left turn, I was able to stare out at all the beauty that The Friendly Island had to offer. So many good stories happened on that ATV tour alone, but I’m not telling you right now. Book number two will fill you in on all that. But I will tell you, we walked a beach called Le Galion where we preformed The Moses Walk through the water. Now this was super exciting for me because the story of Moses is hands down my favorite bible parable. I won’t rest until I get to Egypt and finally feast my eyes on the Red Sea. But for now, I have the shallow waters of Le Galion. I walked with intent along with a girlfriend of mine. I was thinking about how blessed I am to be here and how I’m feeling that much closer to Egypt. My homegirl, on the other hand, was scanning the beach for the Loch Ness Monster. And with the help of our goofy ass instructor, she thought she saw it! I’ve never seen anybody run that fast! And I ran track for eight years. She definitely could have given Usain Bolt a run for his money. I laughed until my stomach hurt. How did I get so lucky to end up with this cool ass travel group? Thank God for like-minded friends.

We ended our tour at the Lay Back Bar & Grill which was a few doors down from the ATV shop. I tell no lies when I say this was the best jerk fish I’ve ever had. I wanted to lick my plate clean! The owner told us to cancel our reservations to the hibachi restaurant on the resort. We really should have taken his advice. At the Lay Back Bar, we had jerk fish and chicken, and curry conch and shrimp. Made to perfection I might add. The hibachi spot slapped some rice, salmon, chicken, and steak over some soy sauce and vegetables and said, “Here. Eat.” I wished I had some takeout from the other spot. But my good ass martini from the hibachi place made me forget about my lackluster meal. We ended the night with karaoke and trying to learn this African electric slide that Yvan, the entertainment manager, was teaching. I plan on taking my new dance skills over to my local watering hole. They used to have a line dancing night on Wednesdays. That was before corona of course.

We went back over to the Dutch side for a night out. St. Martin is pretty quiet and romantic while St. Maarten is where you go to club hop and mingle. Another group we met at our hotel told us about District 721. A rooftop hookah lounge with some fine ass men and strong drinks. I was really hoping that when the owner approached me, he was coming to tell me not to go back home. That he wanted me to stay on the island with him and help run his crowded ass bar. He didn’t. He came over to make sure that the fifteen seconds of rain didn’t ruin my slip dress. Oh Well. Back to watching this thick ass chick crip walk to Snoop Dogg’s “Drop it Like it’s Hot.” I cheered her on in between sucking down my French 75. Those cocktails had me feeling some type of way but I kept my emotions under wraps as best as I could. Let’s just say I made it out without a race war ensuing. Overall, it was such a fun night out with liquor and friends. I was throwing all of it up off the side of the ferry the very next morning.

Well that’s a lie. It wasn’t the gin that I was hurling over the edge of the boat. It was the peach fritter and grapes that I had at the Coco Cafe a couple hours before. I can still feel the burn in my throat right now. But I wasn’t going to let a little throw up ruin my trip to St. Barths. This was a bucket list mark off for me. Although I’m not a luxury shopaholic, I’ve always been intrigued by the name “The Beverly Hills of the Caribbean.” Yvan told us that the St. Barths day trip was a waste of time. “It’s a choppy hour long ride to overspending.” Shit, sign me up. That revelation didn’t deter any of my friends either. My favorite thing about St. Barths besides the breathtaking views of the gorgeous beaches? Black people were EVERYWHERE! And no, I don’t mean working. It warmed my heart to see people who looked like me vacationing and just enjoying life. They were in awe after seeing us as well. One person in our travel group did notice some of the White people staring at us as if we didn’t belong, but luckily I didn’t peep that. My memories of St. Barths is filled with Black love, luxury, and excellence. I can’t wait to put-on my Bohemian dress and leather mules that I purchased on the island. I just know somebody is gonna ask me “Where did you get that cute ass dress?” and I’m gonna say “Ohhh, it came from this cute lil boutique in St. Barths!” That’s bad bitch energy for your ass right there.

We spent our last night drinking way too much and yelling way too loudly about opening up our little travel crew to new members. We were all a bit drunk so the verdict is still out on whether a New Members Meet Up will happen some time next year. Believe me, if we do have an opening, you’ll definitely want to get in on it. The Maldives is already set for a future birthday trip. Possibly a nice trip to Italy will go down before our twenty hour flight to the Maldives comes around, but it’s already set in stone.

Sounds interesting to you? Or maybe you want to swap St. Martin stories with me? Hit me up at jualeeah@jualeeworld.com or JualeeWorld@yahoo.com I can’t wait to hear from you!