Another Day In Paradise

Wake up and open the balcony door. It's warm and humid, not necessarily sunny until later in the day.  First up, breakfast at the buffet and sitting at the family table. This brings me joy. Delicious food and good company.  At first, I try to stick to my usual breakfast routine: Greek yogurt with crunchy toppings. I do try a croissant, but find it lacking in flakiness.  The next day I take eggs and a piece of brie. After that, I  tell myself  I am on vacation and  eat whatever I like. I am after all exercising  daily, doing aqua aerobics and the occasional hike. Most of all the food is so good, so many new Caribbean dishes to try, including Club Med signature dishes, and the delightful sorbet and ice cream station. Oops, I almost forgot about the open bar. On our last day, one of my cousins calculates that we  eat three courses at every meal. Of course, we all know this in our stomachs , but hearing it said out loud makes us burst out in hysterical laughter. We collectively anticipate food withdrawal at the end of the Club Med experience. That proves to be the case.

During my stay, I enjoy consulting the Club Med app because activities,  times, and locations are listed for each day. In the evening, the app announces the dress code for dinner: tropical or white or pink and beige, blue and white or  just plain elegant. White night feels especially enchanting as club members  look like little sparkling angels. Although dress code is not mandatory, I find it entertaining to see what my vacation wardrobe could provide, and it does surprisingly adequately provide.

The staff at Club Med tends toward friendliness and politeness with the exception of the Bureau of Beach Towels. Located in the central lobby near the pool, the Bureau of Beach Towels staffs a person to give out two towels per room number.  Without fail, each time I approach the bureau, I am told my room number is not on the list. Then a rather terse interrogation begins about the length of my stay and towel usage. I rename the Bureau, the Bureau of Bitchies because honestly this little game gets annoying fast. In fact, I decide to avoid the Bureau of Bitchies completely by promenading to the Zen area of the Club where towels  live unmonitored in spiritual harmony. 

In stark contrast,  I am treated like a queen in the dining room. One server whose food station I particularly like starts to call me "my cherie" so pleased is he by my appetite for his creations.  I expect a marriage proposal the next day.

Here are some views from the coastal hike Bill and I took. A much harder  hike than anticipated, one younger cousin's hand kept me upright during the rocky uphill climb in my Jazzercise shoes.

At Club Med in Guadeloupe- oh la la la la la la

 The back story:  September 2024 :  I am eating  an early lunch with my cousin in Manhattan who happens to mention that his family is planning a trip to Club Med Guadeloupe in January. My eyes light up.  I can't help myself. It's Club Med in Guadeloupe!!!  Since childhood,  my dreamy fantasy is to  experience Club Med: comfortable lounge chairs, intriguing people, fun activities: No planning, no shlepping, no trains to catch in the wee hours of the dawn. Just relaxation and bliss.

My cousins reads my mind. "Why don't you come?" Does he mean it? I ask him to send me the details feeling sure he will never remember to do so. He does. His sister sends me an encouraging text. So they do mean it. Okay.  Let me check airfares. Not only do I experience sticker shock during my initial airfare  search, I feel certain the fantasy trip ends here. Moreover, the estimated time to get to Guadeloupe clocks in at about 48 hours. 

Another dilemma named "Would Bill go with me?" looms large.  Do I want to travel all that way alone? How would I fit in with these cousins whom I rarely see and don't know that well?  I decided to let it be for a while. I would take a sneak peak at air fares now and again only to be continuously horrified. My cousins inquire periodically about my decision. Everything depends on airfares I report choosing  not to share other misgivings.  After a couple of months, airfares begin to drop. Misgivings do not. But Club Med... But Guadeloupe where French is spoken and palm trees abound. I decided to discuss this situation with son  Daniel who astutely asks me repeated questions about how badly I wanted the Club Med and Guadeloupe experience. He strongly feels I should not go alone, suggesting asking  Dad/Bill one more time. Amazingly, Bill says yes. 

Our  reliable dog sitter puts Maggy on her calendar.  Bill and I  finally get out our laptops to book. As it makes sense to visit Michael and Erin after Guadeloupe, my trip would be 10 days longer than Bill's. He would fly home earlier to be with Maggy. 

Packing for a tropical vacation  followed by January in New York City feels daunting. I decide to prioritize  summer dresses, swim wear, exercise clothing, then compression bag my favorite cozy sweater, light weight winter coat, a soft  black cardigan , and heavy tights.  My red hat and scarf are already waiting for me in Brooklyn as well as a pair of winter boots, a gray turtleneck, and a warm night gown courtesy of Amazon. 

We take a very long overnight flight to Miami and meet up with our  East coast cousins at the gate for the flight to Pointe a Pitre, Guadeloupe in the morning. An airline that will not be named keeps us waiting on the ground for two hours as late comers are permitted to make the one and only flight to Guadeloupe that day. Our cousin group consists of five people over fifty, four youngsters in their twenties and one 18 month old baby who keeps saying no indiscriminately. His mother is about six months pregnant. Luckily, patience seems to be a family trait.

Arriving at the Pointe a Pitre airport, we find ourselves in a party atmosphere.  Miss Guadeloupe 2024 who will be on her way to compete in the Miss France competition in 2025 is in the house. Surrounded by Miss Guadeloupe  dancers and cheering fans, we perk up a bit after our long voyage.  But with all the extra crowds and noise, we struggle to find the Club Med representative. A very nice airport rep calls the club for me , then leads me to the Club Med desk.

A shuttle transports all of us and our luggage to Club Med. En route,  I notice large billboards in French which are not usually done in France. Guadeloupe is a French overseas territory. The people speak  a Creole dialect of French (challenging for me to understand), use euros, drive cars with French license plates, vote in French elections, and eat a French diet with a Creole twist. 

As we pull up onto the Club Med  property, about twelve Club Med GOs  (gentils organisateurs) greet us with big smiles and enthusiasm. This tickles me, reminding me of some TV show whose name I have long forgotten. We get our club bracelets not to be removed until the end of our stay.  It opens our room due to some nifty technology and allows us access to the dining area, the beach, and  all Club Med activities. More on how Club Med works in my next post. Below enjoy some of our initial  views of Guadeloupe.