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Day 8 – Mission Impossible

Written By: dawg on June 12, 2009 14 Comments

Adventures in Saint Martin – April 2007

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to penetrate the Club Orient grounds. Pass the Hotel Guests Only sign and follow the waterline to the end of the beach.

Club Orient Sign

Club Orient Sign

Once inside, you must find out what they are hiding, besides their clothes. The rest of Orient Beach is awaiting your report on the secret activities within these borders. This thought will self destruct in 5 seconds.

I arose at 5:15 AM and began to sneak down the beach to the mysterious target, my curiosity having overwhelmed my capacity to conform to the posted rules. As I walked past Baywatch, I saw someone in the kitchen, busily preparing for the day, but I was careful not to be seen. A minute later, I had arrived at the entry point, the Hotel Guests Only sign. My heart pumped heavily as I crossed the line into the secret world that had eluded me for so many days. Slowly and quietly, I slithered down the beach, careful not to be seen by the one lonely man in a lounger. Still in complete darkness, I crept steadily along until I was almost at the end of the beach. I was gathering intelligence on an upscale restaurant, called the Papagayo, when suddenly I was hit by a 20 million candlepower spotlight, burning powerfully from the building at the end of the beach, not 50 feet away. Like a deer in the headlights, I covered my eyes, blinded by the bolt of light that had just illuminated me. I was exposed, an obvious outsider because I was pathetically covered from head to toe … in clothes, holding a prohibited camera (for intelligence gathering only). Faster than Tom Cruise,smiley-scared007 I fled back up the beach as the huge beam of light flashed me once or twice more. As I crossed the Hotel Guests Only threshold back into the public domain, I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, finally feeling safe once again. I had now experienced what it was like within the confines of Club O, having been both “exposed” and “flashed” for my transgressions. However, I was still worried about what else might have occurred during the episode. Did they snap my mug shot during the 50 jigawatt flash and plan to post it on the internet most wanted list or provide it to customs agents, who would arrest me at the airport and throw me in jail? In any case, the mission was partially successful. I made it within 50 feet of the objective and found that they are hiding a couple of nice restaurants, dozens of little chalet type dwellings and plenty of lounge chairs on a nice stretch of beach. What still remains a mystery are the secrets within that little building that struck me with the lightning strength spotlight. Obviously, there are many important secrets within that structure, to be fortified with such a powerful weapon.

We arrived at the Julianna Airport at about 11:00 and checked our bags even though our flight did not depart until 3:35. Miss Witt and Madam Luvely chose to get manicures/pedicures at the airport, while I took the Sad Little Car back to the Sunset Beach Bar to hang out and take more photographs. Madam Luvely had already been obsessing over canines, considering the two we had left at home. While I was gone, the ladies strolled outside and saw a man, Mr. Ken L. Klub, unloading things from his car, as two dogs stood nearby. To their amazement, he took out a huge shiny metal bowl, perhaps two feet in diameter. At this sight, Madam Luvely joked “His dogs must have a biiiiig appetite, because that is the largest dog bowl I have ever seen. Or maybe it is a swimming pool for the little dog.” I returned at 1:30, turned in the Sad Little Car and then met the ladies just inside the airport door. They laughed and told me about Mr. Ken L. Klub and his monster dog bowl.

Giant Dog Bowl

Giant Dog Bowl

We went upstairs to The Plantation Bar and Grill for lunch and were startled when seated right in front of Mr. Ken L. Klub. He was an entertainer who was happily playing the enormous dog bowl, which had been converted into a sort of xylophone instrument. Absent from the act were the dogs, obviously not even his. Mr. Ken L. Klub’s island music was very nice and we couldn’t resist giving him a tip and then taking a picture of him, but mostly of the dog bowl.

We had one less flight and one less hour of travel on the way back, but somehow it seemed longer. The two hour layover in Miami was barely enough, as we hurried up to wait at every step through customs and then had to re-enter security. They have some new “air blowing” security machines that I had never seen before. I’m not exactly sure what these machines do, but they seem to still have a few design defects to resolve:

  • Defect #1 – as Miss Witt stood in the machine facing the glass doors, the air current blew her thin skirt all the way up to her waist, flashing everyone in sight. I suspect the guy who invented that machine now works for TSA to operate it.
  • Defect #2 – I stepped into the machine, it blew air all around me and then it started repeating in a low, stern voice “Clean the doors … clean the doors … clean the doors”. At first, I thought it was saying “clean your drawers”, and I wondered how it had identified that problem! In addition to blowing air, perhaps the machine also smelled the air. After about two minutes, it shut up and the doors finally opened. Maybe it took that long for the blowing machine to clean my drawers.

Everyone experiences post-vacation depression, but we had it immediately thrust upon us after landing in Denver. We walked off the plane into 23 degree weather and snow showers. We endured plenty of strange looks while making our way from the terminal to baggage claim, in shorts and sandals. There we stood in baggage claim, digging through our dirty laundry to find long pants and shoes. I think the ladies were embarrassed by all their undergarments strung out on the floor. For me, I was embarrassed only by those 10 coach purses that had to be dumped out of my suitcase to locate my jacket. After 8 days in Saint Martin, this scene was just plain cruel! Oh, to be back in the Alamanda ghetto right now or being chased down by a waitress in Orient Village!!!

Note: Story originally posted on Traveltalkonline.com Forums >> St. Maarten – St. Martin

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14 Responses to “Day 8 – Mission Impossible”

  1. Lois Settles says on: 13 June 2009 at 7:00 am

    Clever….I wonder if you were to return if they might have your picture posted as a trespasser. ???? Ah, well, it makes a better story this way..

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