Nightclubbing St Maarten style

This Saturday night was my first real attempt at going nightclubbing in St Maarten, and it was an interesting experience, so I thought it deserving of a blog all of its own.

Firstly, my companions - J, from work, and his brother Ju, and a random girl we picked up in their hotel room who looked like Estelle, A. J and I got a lift to the hotel room with a car they'd lent from their aunty or something, and I expressly told them there would be no drunk driving around me tonight. I honed my eyes to count their beers.

We waited seemingly FOREVER at the hotel room, passing time by looking at the lovely view at Pelican bay and the pimpin' hotel swimming pool, and watching Will Smith looking weirdly old in Seven Pounds (was sooo lost coming in halfway through that film). This did nothing for my tiredness. What were we waiting for?? Ju to get ready! Geez, you'd think he had a vagina or something.

When at last we made it out the door, Ju looking only slightly better than the hour before and his brother in matching cap, t-shirt and shoes (too funny), we headed to Tantra, the biggest club on the island. Got Maccas on the way, which took forever since there was a blackout mid-order. And they're generally just slow here. Snagged the last park in the carpark because our car was the only non-SUV roaming spaces and the exceedingly bad drivers here also can't park properly.

At one point I remarked to the guys that the black people on this island were so stereotypically black. Not sure if that was racist but I stand by it. I suppose most white people are stereotypically white. But that's why stereotypes exist, I guess. It's just that everyone here likes big cars, loud (R&B, hip-hop and reggae) music, guys in clothes 10x too big and girls in clothes 10x too small, and a big, ol' booty.

At Tantra J was refused entry because he was in trackpants (fair enuf in my opinion, but apparently only cos it was an "adults" night - think we dodged a bullet there!). So we went next to the impeccably named Soggy Dollar and walked in to a snow storm - literally everything was white! And so it was we crashed the "White Temptation" Heineken sponsored party. Lucky I wore my purple dress. Blended right in there.

As I stood by the bar waiting for the guys to get our drinks (hey, they insisted!), I surveyed the room... mostly white people, I would guess Dutch at their height and blonde prevalence, dressed in a range of white attire from slutty, high school lycra things to flowing maxi dresses. But most of it was tacky. My favourite was the "lady" in the white mesh dress with just bra and panties to hide her dignity. The man with the gropey arms on the dancefloor was so proud of his catch.

There were some promo girls (a far cry from Sydney standards) taking photos of people in white for Heineken - obviously we were ignored due to our coloured wardrobe - and some odd characters appearing now n then, including a guy who looked to me more like a cartoon character than actual human being.

It was around this time I realised this was the first time I'd been clubbing as a taken woman, without my boy with me. So this is what it is like to view it from the outside... The Mating Game. A flick of the hair, a flash of a smile, a cheeky giggle... I saw it all. Men with antlers practically bristling from their craniums, stomping the ground and circling their prey. The woman looking casually over his shoulder for the next, better stag.

I had a dance with J, while his bro pulled the moves on A. Good on him, they're not the tallest of families so I can imagine he finds it difficult to pick up. And she was lovely, so it was all good in my eyes! When we'd sweated sufficiently in the open night air (the club is on the water's edge), we sat down for a breather - no sooner had we noticed our Dutch intern T dancing away with the other Dutch interns that congregate at such nightspots on the island. Met some of his friends who said I had to come out and enjoy myself more with them, feeling sorry that I was bound to my room in fear of being constantly targeted.

The fatigue that unsettled me earlier was shaken after a few beers and I was starting to enjoy myself. Thoughts of my boy a little harder to shake (not that I wanted to, really!)... at one point I even daydreamed into thinking the empty couch next to me was his seat and he'd be returning from the toilet at any moment. That made me a little sad when I woke up to myself. Is it going to be like this the whole time I live here?

We decided to go when it was clear Ju was gonna pick up, and with J in the driver's seat (I said I would drive over Ju, who'd had a few more beers than I'd have liked, but then reconsidered when I realised I probably wasn't right to drive either!) we dropped the couple to the hotel room for some private time and J took me home. We chatted to kill time then I called it a night and he had to amuse himself for another hour or so before the hotel room was free again. Takes me right back to high school, that does.

La Paz delivers EPIC

First night out in La Paz = EPIC.

I woke on Saturday on a mission, determined not to disappoint myself again with the failure to see the inside of a La Paz nightclub during my stay here. Again, I was woken by my bearded French friend, who I had told to come at 11am to get me up. Sure enuf, in he floated on his little legs and I thanked the stars he came when I had the room to myself. I had been looking forward to feeling better for this particular visit...

A short while later (ahem), I was ready to get up and go, mildly disappointed by the day's happenings given the amazingness of previous similar occasions. If you get my cryptic rumblings, you should feel sorry for me.

We went to his hostel to collect his friends and then had a reasonably pricey (for Bolivia) lunch, at which I had soup again. Fantastic. Afterwards, we arranged to meet at the lookout to see the sun set (how very romantic) before which I would sneak in a siesta. Not wanting to tempt fate again, that is...

Post-siesta, I roped in a couple of friends from my dorm to come along to the lookout and so we - armed with some beers - went along and got some beautiful pics of the sun setting over the city... I just love that place. My French friend didn't come til after the sun came down, useless, but then we planned on meeting at his hostel (closer to the nightlife action) later on. And we parted ways.

Next order of business, for a Saturday night in La Paz, is to get some party favours... which we did down the road by walking into a random doorway, me waiting outside and then seeing the others return 2 mins later. Deal done. It was pretty strong stuf, I didn't have too much before going out but I was buzzing - almost skipping - down the hills to my mate's hostel... and when we didn't find him there, we skipped down to a nearby bar.

At said bar, we befriended a Dutch guy and his assortment of traveling friends... henceforth we went from bar to bar, the first couple a little gringoish for my liking but then to the most popular bar for both tourists and locals, Tiko's. Had a good boogie there, took a lot of local delight, and checked constantly for my wallet in my pocket. Between one of those checks, the wallet disappeared and I was bummed.

120bs down (a day's budget for me really!) and I was still looking around for at least my wallet... when abracadabra, there it appears in front of my feet, sin dinero, even without the friggin coins, greedy buggers. Money in the bra from now on. The condom was still there, though, so their priorities clearly didn't stretch to preventing the spread of sexual disease and unwanted pregnancies. Not that the latter has even seemed to cross the minds of people here... there are babies EVERYWHERE. Sometimes I almost step on them.

But I digress. Was glad to have my wallet back, and also happy I wasn't the only one stupid enuf to get myself robbed. Along with a bunch of wallets going missing, apparently one Belgian guy found his tobacco pouch also in front of his feet without the tobacco. Cheapskates!! Can you believe it...

Then came Route 36. The most random place in La Paz. ONLY for gringos, this 24 hour hellhole was introduced to us by the Dutch guy and his Bolivian friend (who could get in because he knew people)... but the 2 hot Bolivian girls spent 1.5 hours outside trying to get in purely because they were local. The place moves every 2 weeks because it is highly illegal and neighbours complain... and rightly so. Would you want that kind of scene near you??

They sold coke over the counter and then allowed you to do it whenever and wherever you wanted, in full view or otherwise, with the only rule that you needed to do the coke you bought from them. Ha! Definitely a memorable experience, that one.

So after it was passed around, I found myself watching as people paired off to begin insanely deep yet profoundly uninteresting conversations about next to nothing, and I myself began to notice that I was doing exactly the same. Ho hum.

At one point, I got up and announced that it was time to go, and M and I waited until a cab arrived so we could swish away secretly... only to be locked out of our hostel for about 15 minutes while we banged at the door for someone to let us in. It was to be the first of 2 nights of this for us... I was impatient because my tooth had started to hurt again (I failed to bring my tablets out with me). And 7am rolled around.

As I said, EPIC.

The retardation of men

Turning down a 3some. That has got to be one of the biggest regrets a guy could ever have. But fool be him, I say.

But when you ask me to convince a hot - but totally straight - Dutch chick to get in the mood - you know, just for him - I will do it. I`ll call that bluff. Bet he wasn`t expecting that one.

This is the Brazilian bartender I have had a crush on since I worked at the hostel. He works at the same hostel and we always flirt... I know he`s the same as me in terms of sex drive, except I am a little perturbed at the amount of attention he pays to the loving of the ass action. Not really interested in THAT avenue.

Anyway, after I went to dinner with the Mexican and Dutch girls sharing my room, me and the Dutch went to the bar downstairs to drink "just one or two"... obviously that turned into several more, and when we were about ready to go to bed, the bartender said, "Let`s go out!!"

I knew what his game plan was. Hey, can you blame the Brazilian for taking the opportunity to party with 2 drunk girls, one of which he knows would be up for a good time... so we went to this club playing hip-hop that was totally packed (big ups to BA for delivering THAT on a Monday night), our arms twisted for another night on the town (woe be us), and started getting some free drinks from F`s friend behind the bar.

Safe to say, we were pretty drunk but in a good way... had a good boogie and I started making out with the Brazilian. I think, this is promising... if not for me but for all 3 of us. The Dutch stays away because she thinks I am with the Brazilian... surprised be she when I told her to go ahead... it's just that kind of party.

I worked my magic and before she knew it she was making out with me, a first for her but ultimately not a bad one, she admitted. Buuuueeennnooo. So here is this Brazilian guy, one girl on each arm, dancing, kissing, having a good time. Then all of a sudden, he SNAPS. Starts talking all this shit to me about not wanting to be tied down, not looking for a girlfriend, wanting all the other girls in the room...

At this point, I am confused. Sorry, is this something I am losing in translation here?? You mean to say you just requested I find another girl for you, then ask specifically for the straight Dutch girl, I go and get her in the mood, then you turn around and say you want other girls?? Are you mentally retarded??! With that conclusion directly drawn, I grabbed L and shot into the centre of the dancing throng to continue to party, sans Brazilian. What a fucking idiot.

So that was his night gone... we didn't see him again and when we finally left, after having a right old time with the remaining, non-insane members of the party, we found him passed out on the couch in the hostel foyer. Classy.

An interesting side-note for me, also, was running into girl no. 1 from the other night at Club 69, the one I virtually ran away from when I decided she wasn`t really keen. And then found the flight attendant. Well, I saw her just when she was all stressed from losing her jumper and so it was hard to pin her down. I did manage to for a moment, though, before she ran off all drunk and worried... and that was it - again - that woman is just too much drama for me.

A late-night slash early morning pasta cook-up satisfied the rest of our hunger, although we were totally miffed at his change in character, and we headed to (separate) beds. Leaving him soundly sleeping - alone - on the couch.

And now he is being all stand-offish with me today. Weirdo.

Storms, guests and stallions...

The last 2 days have seen the arrival of Merlelor's first guests since I've been here - 2 Dutch guys, not friends but just happened to both be teachers from the same town. Small world! Sat they arrived and as my last blog details, it was a case of a lot of waiting around that day. The unannounced guests I mentioned ended up leaving about 5 mins before H returned with his guest, but them's the breaks hey.

At least we ended up with a roof over our heads because it stormed that night - a beautiful storm, actually, with bolts of lightning cascading through the faintly pink-tinted skies. Like poetry it was. Shame all I could do was 'ooh' and 'aah' from the car window (which I'd broken only mins before, lucky it didn't actually rain while I was in there), since I was driving with a Romanian-speaking gypsy to the local train station. I was also a little tipsy and really hypo from not doing much until the last 20 mins of the day. And also I get excited with new people. Like a child.

So I entertained myself by chatting non-stop to the weary Dutch guests and sank a few drinks, then hopped off to bed across the rd where one of my fave dogs, Rover, is now staying. I let him stay in my room for the night, he was quite well behaved once he realised the single bed was not for sharing, but became restless early morning and I was worried he would piss on my clothes in impatience... or, perhaps worse, make fleas permanent residents in my room. On top of that, waking to a cold, wet nose sniffing my ass is not the best alarm clock I've ever had. He stays in his kennel now.

Next day was first day of trails for the guests. It was good because H knew where he was going and, although I led because he was on a stallion at the back of the pack, I at least knew he had a destination in mind. We went to a neighbouring village and then back after a rest. More locals stared at me/us. Must be my hair. Or my incredibly irresistible style. Probably that actually.

Starting to wear a little thin with the guests (already!), not quite sure what to make of one of them and was a little unnerved when he asked if there was a boyfriend waiting somewhere for me (why ask??? a little personal I think). Also he's in that in-between stage of riding, where he thinks he can ride but he can just stay on the horse and has no control. The other one is so ghostly white it almost scares me and also has an unusual personality, a bit more sure of himself here because it's about the 5th time he's visited. But he got given my fave horse, Goody, and was a little too rough on him I think. He came off on the first canter (hehe) and after a day of riding, said he was keen to try another horse the next day. Ha!

Now I'm all by my lonesome, bar the gypsies, because they've gone off on a 5-day trek and one of us had to stay behind. I suggested 2 stay behind but the idea was rejected. Not sure why they need 3 guides for 2 guests but anyway... my knee is starting to hurt a little when I walk so I don't mind a break from all-day riding for a couple of days. Glad I don't have to deal one-on-one with weird personality guest men as well. I'm going to try and exercise one of the stallions anyway, so if you don't hear from me ever again, you'll know why. Deep breaths.