Amidst all of the cataclysmic turmoil taking place upon the worlds stage a small slice of paradise was found upon Saint Martin for Anna and I. We got an apartment. After a long and arduous courting stage with the French side of Saint Martin we were reminded once again that the French jigsaw is not one that we fit into. I have new grey hairs which are sprouting from the middle of my scalp.

Our new abode is modest, nestled in the gated and big dogged communities that Americans so love. The last tenant was here for six years so most things have been thought of. Walking to work takes about 15 minutes and things have been very peachy. Things have been so peachy, that on Sunday I was crowing very loudly to the immediate area much like a rooster would. The people upstairs thought I must have been watching a football game. Of course I was…. We don’t have a TV.

The only problem?? Well it seems like we are going back to Europe very soon. I guess we all knew this was coming but it seems to have come about very quickly. If things go to plan we will be back in Barcelona in a month or so, hooray! My love affair with Spain can continue. El Fuerte will be on the same continent again. Uncle Phil will be freezing somewhere north of me. Order will be restored.

Still, I can’t help feeling the essence of the Caribbean is still waiting to be distilled. Much like the scent of a rum cocktail the joy has been fleeting and at times dangerous. Maybe that is the essence.