Shopping Trip

Fort de France Martinique

Despite the wake from the ferry, we are pretty happy with our spot at anchor in Anse Mitan.

Dotted line is the Ferry route

It was not too bad a passage over from Sainte Anne. The sea always seems to be a little confused on this stretch, with a fair amount of unpredictable swell. Despite that we managed to sail a good deal, just under the headsail.

As we left the anchorage early, well about 7:40am, we had no need to set any records. Just enjoy sailing. We had left in sunshine, but rounding Diamond Rock a steady drizzle started, followed by us frantically reefing the genoa as the wind increased dramatically. Then it calmed again. We glided up the coast past Grane Anse D' Arlet at a steady 2.8 knots

Happy even in the rain

It was very enjoyable just making the most of the wind between the hills, and trimming accordingly. Then the time came to turn the corner directly into wind. We put the engine on and motored to the anchorage, finding a good spot near the shore, but accepting we would get wash from the frequent ferries and occasional jet skis.

 

Our mission was to get to Fort de France and then find Decathlon. One of our favourite stores for technical clothing, at a very reasonable price. This involved a trip on the ferry. For some inexplicable reason it was late, by one hour! Not great as it should run every thirty minutes. So we stood on the jetty in the queue whilst wilting in the early morning sun.

As the first ferry approached the queue no longer became a queue, but a free for all for very important people. We were quickly overtaken by fashionable elderly ladies, preserved in make-up, wearing designer sunglasses, who clearly had an urgent appointment with a cappuccino. Then a brazen young man with briefcase walked past us all and got on the small ferry. At once the masses cried foul! Much to his humiliation he was rightly forced to get off, as the ferry was already completely full when it arrived. When the next ferry finally arrived at the dock, the elderly man in front of us who had picked his nose for at least ten minutes, both nostrils, a thoroughly good excavation with the 'debris' flicked around unsuspecting people's feet and ankles in front of him, decided he too was a VIP, and proceeded to barge his way to the front getting smudged in make-up as he went. 

We counted over 30 empty seats when we finally got on, so what was the panic? And you thought people watching from street cafes was fun!

Anyway, it was a drizzling when we arrived so the Pac a Macs came out. Whoever designed these also designed the 'boil in the bag' concept. After ten minutes in one of the biggest downpours ever, you heat up so much that steam appears, and you end up taking the things off and are actually happy to get soaked to cool down. 

We should have taken lots of pictures, but the drizzle turned into yuk. Also by that time we were on our bus and headed to Decathlon. This is a great store, name your sport and it has an aisle. The prices are fair, as is the quality, and the service is always superb. We purchased some polarised sunglasses, UV resistant t-shirts, a funky bandanna for Steve, some sandals for Lynne, and some nice shorts.

Inside Decathlon

Across the busy motorway was a shopping complex with a huge hyper market, where we did a spot of provisioning before heading back to Fort de France. We waited an hour for the bus back to the terminus. When it eventually came it was almost full. With our shopping bags swinging into the shins of other passengers, and our cooked chicken just about overcoming the smell of BO, we hung onto the rails as we sped on back to Fort de France. To add to our experience, a shouting match started near the middle, and became so heated we thought the bus driver would call the police. The whole bus was enthralled and the odd snigger could be heard every now and then. The 'argument' did not abate until half an hour later. Even after the man involved got off the bus, the woman carried on shouting at full volume to thin air, much to the extreme embarrassment of her daughter. When they both finally disembarked, she was still raging and shouting, flailing her arms. As the traffic was slow we could hear her rant for another few minutes! Lynne speaks German, a little Spanish, and we both have basic French. Most of the words as far as we could tell are not fit for publishing! It certainly wasn't a dull journey!

Must go shopping via ferry and bus more often...