The opposite of calm

Onboard Gunilla some days are more hectic and some days are more serene than others. Today was a chaotic day. I visited two different countries, somehow ended up in the middle of a sandstorm, and got thrown out of a bus by a bus driver.

Before I share those stories, I have to tell you about how the day started. I woke up in a pool of my own sweat due to it being 30 degrees Celsius in the students’ living area. Unfortunately, for everyone’s’ wellbeing, the air conditioning is still broken with no indication about wanting to function normally again.

After breakfast and normal mourning routines finally me and two other friends were able to put our feet on solid ground, in Marigot on the French side of the island called Saint Martin. We had only one thought in our heads – Maho beach. For those that aren’t familiar, Maho Beach is located near the airport on the Dutch side of the island. The aeroplanes fly really close and land right behind you when you’re lying on the beach.

What we weren’t aware of before we we’re already suntanning on the beach is that planes also lift off from the airport, in the opposite direction. The wind of a plane taking off is strong. And there’s sand on the beach. What happens when wind and sand combine? That’s right; a sandstorm. The sand felt like thousands of tiny needles piercing your skin and it got everywhere. And yes, I mean everywhere. That sand is going to haunt me and my cabin for the rest of this trip. Although the pictures were amazing, just like I knew they would be.

To avoid being killed by the sandstorm we decided to take our stuff and leave that godforsaken beach. We kept venturing deeper into the Dutch Saint Maarten and ended up in a town called Philipsburg. There we learned that the password to someone’s house is “Anita” and that we were all very welcome to visit any time we wanted.

We got tired of just walking around in Philipsburg and decided to head back to Marigot. We got help from a really nice Security Officer to get on the correct bus back to the right port. When thirty minutes had passed the driver suddenly stopped and proclaimed “I have finished work now”. We asked if we were at the right stop and the driver repeated “I have finished work now”. We looked at each other in sheer confusion and I wondered whether we were being dropped in the middle of nowhere on what was supposed to be “The Friendly Island” (Saint Martin’s motto).

We get out, pay for our ticket and feel dumb when we figure out we were dropped in the middle of, not nowhere but, Marigot. That type of misunderstanding created by a language-barrier is something one experiences often when traveling. Almost all of the times those confusions end up being nothing but a fun story to tell afterward, as is this one.

Saint Martin and Saint Maarten have treated me well so far, and I am sure they will keep doing so for the remaining days we will be here. I already know this is going to be one of my favourite places of this trip, just based on one hectic day on land.

Emma Berntsson

Starboard