St Barts is a small island, very pretty and oh la la, tres chic in a way only a French territory could be. We spent the first two nights in a bay that is a national park only accessible from the sea or by walking 15 minutes over the headland. There’s one very stylish villa that overlooks the bay and I read it had once belonged to the Rockerfellers. If it was good enough for the Rockerfellers, it was good enough for the Pembertons. We had two days of calm water, no light pollution and were craving some more action plus we’d eaten the last of the fresh vegetables so trundled 3 miles round the corner to the capital Gustavia.
It was much busier in Gustavia and we eventually found a space to drop the anchor amongst a plethora of other boats. We dinghied in to Petit France with its waterfront cafes and smart boats lined up along the quai. You instinctively know you’re in the right place when the flags on the quayside are advertising Veuve Clicquot and Perrier. Not a MacDonalds or KFC in sight! The shops have beautifully simple names like Dior, Prada, Gucci and Max Mara and Longchamps. I must have left saliva marks on the windows J All the sales assistants are impossible beautiful, coiffured and manicured but were all very welcoming. If you work on commission you never know do you? I might have been ready to flex the plastic. In the end the only spending we did was in the chandlery – as usual something for the boat. I got a baguette and du fromage.
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