• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4

FTF gives you a brief history of Saint Martin and lets you know the present day must-sees.

It's a dangerous game, stereotyping. But can there be two places, two peoples as different as Holland and France, the Dutch and the French? What happens when these erstwhile Colonial powers cohabitate? They apparently make a beautiful, if somewhat schizophrenic, island with 37 beaches and the unwieldy moniker of Sint Maarten/Saint Martin. This is the smallest island in the world to have been partitioned between two different nations, the Netherlands and France.

The Arawak Indians once lived here until the war-like Carib Indians moved in and destroyed the place. So when Columbus passed these shores in November 1493, he sighted an empty island of gorgeous beaches and swaying palm trees. In the tradition of all discoverers, Columbus was into the naming business, calling this place St. Martin in honor of a Spanish (or Italian) holy man, St. Martin of Tours.

Fast forward to the conflicts between the French, Spanish and Dutch for possession of the territory and a "toe hold" in the New World. The Spanish eventually withdrew leaving the French and Dutch facing each other. In March 1648, they signed a treaty dividing the island into Dutch Sint Maarten (16 square miles) and French Saint Martin, (21 square miles.) The story, doubtlessly apocryphal, says that when the representatives of the two powers paced off the island, the Frenchman carried water, but the Dutchman carried beer. Falling asleep, the man from Holland failed to keep pace, thus ending up with the smaller share.

Charming Marigot

About 150 miles southeast of Puerto Rico, Marigot is the capital of St. Martin, and here the French influence is evident in more places than in the French tricolor snapping proudly in the breeze on top of Fort Marigot. St. Martin has managed to combine the depth and flavor of French culture with the richness of Caribbean ethnicity.

Take the Marigot market for example. Almost any really interesting place has a fun market, and any fun market will appeal to kids. I grinned my way through this one. Maybe it was the setting: festivities right on the edge of the turquoise Caribbean, beneath very blue skies, surrounded by fringed palm trees. Fort Marigot looking down benignly from its perch on a lush green hill. The makeshift stalls were filled with colorful batiks, polished wooden crafts and lace. The bananas were piled chest-high and the whack-whack of machetes splitting coconuts provided a counterpoint to the reggae music and the haggling over fresh fish that attracted sharp-eyed buyers.

Marigot retains the chic that is French, but it's leavened by the Caribbean culture. It's an interesting town, made more interesting by the architecture, much of it classic gingerbread lace work.

It's a town of a few walking blocks, set off by an attractive marina--Marina Port La Royale--ringed with unique and somewhat upscale restaurants, bars and cafes. And while many of the clothing shops are also expensive and very French, others are down-to-earth, sharing space with funky restaurants and stalls selling roots, spices and local vegetables. The boulangeries or bakery shops and French specialty shops add their flavor to this creative and fashionable enclave, and provide the makings of a picnic to enjoy by the sea or at the fort.

The French Tourist Office across the parking lot, near the small rotary, will provide lots of free maps and brochures.

Beyond Marigot

Grand Case (pronounced cause) is about five miles north from Marigot and offers two faces to visitors: by day, it's a sleepy hamlet; at night, a haven for diners in search of a quality eating experience. The restaurants may well be the best on the island, many with a view of neighboring Anguilla. In the center of this sleepy village, not far from one of the salt ponds, is a rusted old salt grinder, a reminder of the times when folks virtually slaved gathering salt for sale.

Orient Beach, on the east side of St. Martin, like almost all of the 37 beaches on the island, is a lovely stretch of sand. A couple of deserted islands off shore beckon scuba divers and the adventurous. The beach is accessed via a dusty, bumpy road--a typical trek--but the view of the sparkling, azure water is well worth it. Visitors have a choice: the nude or clothed section. I noticed a lot of rubber-necking on the part of those who choose to wear swim suits since nothing divides the two sections except a makeshift billboard announcing the Orient Club at Orient Beach. It's a measure of how pervasive the Web has become because the sign announces the nudists' website.

For kids, and adults who just want to be kids, there's a unique and somewhat "unknown" attraction that I loved--The Butterfly Farm or La Ferme De Papillons (590/590-873121). Run by some offbeat Brits, the place is a tropical jungle look-alike with 45 species of butterflies flitting weightlessly from flower to flower and limb to limb. One settled on my arm. I was told that this was a great honor because these Thai butterflies seldom settle on people. That it stayed with me as I moved around the "jungle," swaying with my motion, had something to do with my smell--err, scent. Whatever.

Some of the creatures are vivid flashes of electric blue that look like jewels moving in space. There's a Koi carp pool where I learned that one Koi, whose color so resembled the Japanese flag (white face, red circle), sold for $100,000.