St. Martin

"Please fasten your seat-belts and return your trays to their upright position," the voice of a Stewardess speaking over the P.A. system awoke me from my nap. Rubbing my hand over my eyes, I looked out the oval window and down at the turquoise-colored water below. In a few monents the tires of the jet touched the concrete runway and I could hear the increase in noise as the thrust reversers slowed down the plane.

"On behalf of the Captain and crew, I wish to thank you for flying Continental Airlines and hope you have a pleasant stay in Saint Martin/Sint Maarten," the young woman finished the spiel that I had heard countless times before and I rose from my seat, allowing some of my fellow passengers to move by, before stepping out into the aisle myself.

"Good bye," one of the Stewardesses, a sexy blonde with wide, green eyes and a cute, upturned nose said with a professional smile as I stepped through the door and into the enclosed ramp. Within a very short moments my luggage was in the trunk of cab and I was settled in the backseat of the sedan as it drove away from Princess Juliana International Airport and headed towards the French side of the Island.