We are both awake fairly early so after making pancakes for breakfast (have to use up all the food no matter how fattening it is!), at just gone 9 am, we take the dinghy over to town to try to check in at the gendarmerie behind the Mairie. The gendarme says ‘non’. Well actually, that’s not quite true. The gendarme doesn’t actually say anything because once again, there’s no one there. What are you supposed to do when you arrive in these islands – stay on your boat for 5 days until they open again? Well, probably but bugger that. I’m sure the island’s patrons prefer us off the boat and spending money.
We then walk to the hairdressers and try to book me an appointment for today. Last time I came and had my hair done here the place was empty but today it is buzzing. There’s a guy there who takes my booking and looking up and down at his somewhat ghastly shirt and socks with crocs, I hope he’s not doing my hair as he obviously has no sense of style. I leave with the information that I need to return at 3.30 pm and my wash and cut will cost me 23.30 euros. He has rattled it off so quickly in French though at it could be costing me 330 euros and I need to be there at 11.30 pm. I presume the former is true and leave to find Mike.
We walk around town for a little bit, somewhat aimlessly, then go back to the boat. It’s so hot that I disappear to bed with the fan on and actually fall asleep for an hour or so. When I wake up it’s almost time for the second fattening session of the day (as if I need any extra fat) – bacon sandwiches.
At what I take to be the appointed time, Mike takes me over to the town dock and I walk in the blistering heat once again to the hairdressers. It is full. I sit down regretting that I didn’t bring anything to read as all the magazines are in French but at least I have my glasses (to read my French phrase book if anything gets too technical) so I can look at the pictures.
They are running behind – a lot behind – and I wait for well over 40 minutes before being ushered into hair wash station by the guy which fills me with a little trepidation as he appears to be the barber but so far the woman is showing no interest in me at all. I have my hair rather too enthusiastically washed and then am ordered to one of the chairs where I am ignored while he goes back to his barbering. Then the lady approaches and it turns out she is doing my hair, thank goodness. For the most part, the cut is good. A little gets lost in the translation about the slightly longer twiddley bits at the sides but basically I can live with that – my hair grows so quickly that they’ll be back before I get home.
I go shopping with the left over euros but only find one thing that I really like. There’s no changing room – one has to stand in the corner of the shop and strip off (in the part of the room that seems to sell men’s clothes, which is a little disconcerting). I do it all so quickly that I decide I don’t want it, changing my mind once I am back in the dinghy that I do. Maybe I’ll go back tomorrow when I’m thinner.
There is a beautiful sunset again tonight but a rather garishly painted catamaran has the audacity to park right across it so my photos are of the town instead.
Photos: Bourg des Saintes in the reflected light of the sunset
During the evening it absolutely throws it down with rain although there’s no real wind with the deluge, thank goodness. I remember the day our anchor dragged half way across the bay in a night time squall some years ago and only stopped when the anchor got caught on one of the old hurricane chains that still lay on the sea bed.
Tomorrow we head for the BVIs (unless Mr Change Your Mind Daily decides otherwise!).
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