Martinique is one gorgeous island. Rustic? Yes. Full of character? Absolutely. I barely saw an inch of a resort from across a bay. The vibe is more filled with authentic villages, daily lives (and very scary roads!) than luxury resorts. My family rented a villa perched on a cliff above a fisherman’s village called Anse d’Arlet, which basically constituted of a creole restaurant, a pizza joint, a bar/grocery store/funeral home(?), a pharmacy and an adorable rustic church facing directly across the pier.
My morning routine consisted of walking (sometimes running) down the hill to the village—past the fishermen selling their fresh catch of the day—to the bakery for fresh croissants, then walking back to the only oceanfront restaurant and grabbing an iced latte (I was ordering café au lait with a tall glass filled with ice cubes on the side—what a tourist). The rest of our days were filled with poolside fun, exploring the neighbouring towns and beaches, watching the kids play in the sand or the dog napping in the sun. Lots of games of crazy eight countdown and backgammon were played. Lots of rosé was consumed.
I’d say I came back completely refreshed, which is mostly true, except I scraped my knees pretty badly trying to take a picture while walking and broke my phone in the process (I blame the above-mentioned scary roads—literally super deep gutters in the middle of the sidewalk). I learned the hard way that watching your step is essential there. The island has a distinct French flavor (with a creole twist). In many ways, it could pass for a very tropical south of France. On our fourth day, we discovered Ti Sable in the neighbouring town and adopted it as our hang out spot. We were beyond happy to sit around their beach chairs and eat orders upon orders of accras (delicious fried cod balls) with rosé on the side. Isn’t that what vacationing is all about?
Images via my Instagram.