Drunk at Maho Mansion

I probably should have given myself a sleep-in after the previous day's hecticness, but alas - there is but limited days until I jet off the island. So instead I found myself up and ready to roll for my first ever Zumba fitness class, held just up the road at 10am.

I'd been wanting to do it virtually since I got to St Maarten but have never gotten around to it, so this was my day. And I am so glad I did it! 2 things threw my expectations a little: I was the youngest in the class (which wasn't too big on the day I went) and the instructor was a white French woman. I was kinda hoping to be amongst a group of bootylicious black women shakin' what their mammas gave 'em, but it seemed more popular with white people actually! The instructor was nice, though, if she did lack a little in Latino rhythm.

I was sweating from the humidity in and outside the dance studio before I even started, so you can imagine how I dripped as the class wore on! I swear I sweated 2x as much as everyone else, but at least I picked up the steps quickly and could relate a lot of the moves to my behaviour on a Saturday night in the clubs. Back in the day when I would go to clubs - ha!

Afterwards, I had perked up considerably from my zombie-like morning state and ready to take on the world. On my own in that task, it would seem. E was stressing from too many errands to make, N was working and as always trying to do a million things at once, I didn't want to call L as I assume he is still unemployed and that is always a drain on socialising. So that was my friends list completely scratched.

An unexpected day off... well, I had to do something with it! Tried my luck - unsuccessfully - at Seaside with the internet, missing a downpour by an inch, then arranged to meet N in about an hour for a quick photo shoot on horseback by the water. Just enuf time to get to Pineapple Pete's for a cheap beer and internet excursion.

Of course N was late, but it gave me time to get the horse, Tom, a big, beautiful Haflinger of rich chestnut colour with a brilliant blonde mane, ready for action. He's a bit of an ass of a horse, in truth, and I don't really like his personality but he turns out great photos! So I hopped on board sans saddle, with my long hippy skirt flowing over the sides and across his rump. Like the princess I am!

We got some shots up by the sunrise point, Tom whinnying away as he has massive separation anxiety issues, my body quivering with the mighty noises, the wind blowing his mane about, ears pricked forward. He looked every bit the mighty stallion. I, on the other hand, clambered about on top trying to look nice. Still don't know if I succeeded.

Quick costume change for the water and in we went. Tom absolutely loves it so we were able to actually swim out deep with me floating above, legs flailing about in the air, still trying to look sexy. Still not sure if I succeeded there either. But it was fun, nonetheless, and I'm glad we got at least some shots in before I left! Hard to catch, N is.

That done n dusted, Polly, N and I piled onto N's motorbike (Polly sandwiched in between us, no complaints, bless her) and I was back at home wondering what to do. A had by now secured the place he had really wanted, good little organiser that he is, and so I needed to get back to the internet and organise a bank transfer of the bond and first month rent. Which turned out to be way more complicated than we'd hoped.

Went into town to get quotes for the ferry to St Barths and try to sort out a couple of errands - mainly just bought a pretty silk maxi and some guavaberry rum to take home - but it was productive nonetheless. Got the prices for the boat and also spoke with the lady from one of the activity companies who gave me her prices for the trips as well. I will get everything done before I leave!

E invited me to her place, the mansion by the sea, to chill out so I took my laptop and sorted out the money problems while she helped the kid she nannies with his homework. I ended up having to ask my dad to front the money because neither of our credit cards would work, blah blah blah, anyway he said yes thankfully and did it a couple of hours later. Also spoke with A for a while, actually crying when he off-handedly described the flat as being "a great first home". Cried! What's wrong with me? I blame it on mental and physical exhaustion. Not that that makes me wanna slow down...

Then came the drinks.

We started innocently enuf, sharing a bottle of wine... then E coyly asked if I wanted another bottle, and I said of course (I wasn't working the next day!). We hunted for what looked like a cheaper bottle in the fridge, and chose a hideous chardonnay which we needed to disguise in smoothie cocktails (of course). And I think that's where it went downhill from... Before I knew it, E was diving stark-naked into the pool while I spoke animatedly with A on Skype and the random guy we met at the bar the other night dropped in. Actually, that's out of order - he most definitely had left when the nakedness started.

Anyway, we ended up consuming a fair amount of alcohol and A found it highly amusing, it being about brunch time where he was. Next thing I knew E had crashed on the top level (no. 4) guest bedroom, still in her birthday suit, and I was in her amazingly comfortable bed with a duck-down quilt softly caressing my body. It was, unsurprisingly, the best sleep I've ever had in St Maarten. Mmmm... I tingle just thinking about it.