Club Orient on St. Martin, FWI

Going Au Natural, Part One

July, 1999

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The Trip

Kathleen set up a Caribbean vacation on a place called Club Orient in the French West Indies.  Due to the adult nature of the spot, this is an excerpt of the photos.  See more about Club Orient at their site.   It was an interesting vacation, to say the least.  The club was nice, the beach was stellar and the water was out of this world.  The island is populated with ex-patriot French chefs, so you can reasonably guess that the food was excellent

The trip started with a bang.  When we arrived at the airport in St. Martin, our cabbie did not know where the club was located.  As you may expect, this caused me some angst in that I had no oversight or knowledge about anything to do with our destination. In fact, it was interesting not knowing.  After watching the driver speak to his buddies, it seemed that he understood the directions adequately.  So, off we went across St. Martin.  The road was narrow and pot-holed.  We went over a mountain range.  We descended on the other side and the road got worse.  What I did not know was that we changed from the Dutch side to the French side.  Finally, the (supposed) turnoff to the club came.  There was no sign and the road was in much worse shape.  Then the road turned to dirt.  At this time I had been traveling for something on the order of 15 hours and 4 time zones.  I could not recall my last meal and given the road situation, I was starting to seriously question where I had planned to spend the next week. I mean, the place could be a pit, and we would be stuck wasting a full week, or at least that was the worst case scenario in my mind.

After we took the turn to the dirt road, things degraded rapidly.  The holes were now filled with mud and the road turned to two-track.  I "went dark" and did not say anything, but my confidence was eroding rapidly.  Around the next bend was a hut with lights.  A guard hut, with an armed guard.  A light in the hut was good, I was less sure about the gun.  He opened the gates, handed us our keys and told us where to go.  The road immediately turned into a "good two track" on shell sand.

When we arrived, I was appropriatly impressed.  The accomodations were nice, clean, but modest.  But the good news was that it was right on the beach and the beach looked fabulous, particularly in the moon light.  As soon as our stuff was unloaded from the taxi we paid the fellow, changed out of our clothes and headed for a moon light swim.  Wonderful.

Next day, I was awoken to the sound of something attempting to gain entry through our screen door.  When I went to investigate, I discovered it was a crab.  I also discovered that Orient Beach is a clothing optional beach, even beyond the Club.  Even in the bars and resturants.  This, as you might imagine, generated some interesting social situations.  But, hey, you pay extra for "interesting".

A visitor on our screen door. I awoke to a scratching sound and expected that somebody was attempting to gain entry to the bungelow.  But it was just this crab climbing on the screen.

Looking outside our room.  I grabbed the camera when I first awoke and took this shot.

Just outside our bungalow looking to the northwest across Orient Bay. The structures in the distance are not affiliated with Club Orient.

Boats and guest umbrellas along Orient Beach.

Shells on the beach.

From the south end of the beach looking north. We did the parasailing too.

Limestone beaches to the south.  Very sharp.

The view out our door.

The jungle at Lotterie Farms on St. Martin. We took the "3 hour tour" and walked to the top of the hill.

Ready for a little hike that turned out to be not-so-little by time, altitude or distance.

The group sets out from Lotterie Farms into the jungle.

Leading us through the jungle.

Up the trail.  Slave-built rock walls.

The sweat is coming.

A rest stop on the trail. Note the plants.

Native tropical plants.

It is hot.  Sweat central.

A sugar distilling pot left over from the 1800s.

It is hot and humid. Note the droplets on her nose and face.

View of the bay from the top of the mountain.

Looking up the hill from the ridge to the peak.

Nightfall from the top of the mountain.

Sundown and soaked in sweat.

Top of the mountain.  Totally drenched in sweat.

Our hut.  Really quite nice inside.  And, as a plus, right next to the resturant.

The resturant.  Nothing like walking into a resturant nude. Or watching somebody else do it.

The gym building and massage area.

This was a great trip.  We also went to Grand Casse, which is a resturant row on the other side of the island.  We took the taxi there, the food was 4 star or better with French wines.  I think that they share the same body of ex-pat chefs that we had at the club.  The prices were 4 star, but it was truly worth it.  So much in fact, we went back to the area several times.  The food and wine were excellent.


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