The people are also lovely. Most folks, if they have any English, will make an effort to speak and understand it (unlike, say, in Paris). And the folks I've spoken to have been very patient with my pathetic French. Though, after a few weeks in Martinique and Guadeloupe it is improving . . . though, probably not as much as I think it is.
Whenever I'm ashore without Sten, I get hit on, which I'm pretty sure has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the culture. The men here can't help but flirt. They are French. But it isn't the aggressive, macho, come-on style of the southern islands (St. Lucia, St. Vincent), which used to make me very uncomfortable if I was out by myself. In the French islands, it is a friendlier, gentler approach, which always makes me laugh. A little flirting is so very good for the ego. I could easily spend a season just in the French islands, though by the end of it, Sten probably wouldn't be able to live with me and my outsized ego.
An unexpected bonus from a squally sail up the coast of Guadeloupe - the most spectacular double rainbow either of us has ever seen