St. Anne

In front of the marina in Le Marin is a popular beach, where people like to anchor. To get there, no one has to anchor in front of St. Anne, you can also take bus line A from Le Marin, the stop is right at the rear exit of the marina. I recommend the use of the regular bus, because the anchorage is - mmmh - a little bit too busy.

Anchor in front of St. Anne

I don't want to dig my anchor here in the sand. It's too cuddly for me. The bus line A lets us out at the bus station, there we get into a minibus that takes us to the popular beach “Les Salines”.

A brief thought about visiting a beach bar evaporates, we walk along a shady path on which the cars are parked on the left and right, as in the south of France. The Frenchman himself likes to go to the beach, the way to the car must not exceed 100 meters, after which the distance would be unreasonably long. After all, almost everyone has to carry a heavy cooler bag.

Beach in Les Salines

At some point we come to a barrier that prohibits motorists from passing through. We continue walking, the beach immediately becomes noticeably empty.

Beach beyond the parking lot

There is a distance of around 500 meters between the two pictures above. You don't have to believe that, but it is so. The French are really sick with their feet. We are not, continue walking the coastal path. The wide path that can be driven by vehicles becomes a real path. We meet fewer and fewer people.


On the one hand, it's pretty much impossible to get lost. We always have the sea on the left, and scrub on the right. Nevertheless, the path is well signposted, and there is no lack of distances and sights. For example, we expect to see a chapel at a headland. It is not a real chapel, but it is dedicated to Peter.


There is also another optical compensation for the ascent to the steep coast. A great view of the bay we walked along in the last hour.

Beach. Lonely as in the travel brochure.

The vegetation is of course very different from that in the south of France. The frequent rain makes it very green when I compare it to Corsica in autumn. And there are no cactuses of this size either.


Somehow Martinique feels like a small foreign body in the Caribbean. It's all so French. And yet it is Caribbean. I don't really know where to put that in my head now.

The French here also work differently than those in Europe. In Europe it is not a problem to speak French to the French as a foreigner. Here, in my opinion, they switch to English far too quickly when a tourist stands in front of them.


But if you leave out the locals and only speak the landscape, the Caribbean feeling is back.

Stupid selfie in Martinique

So we hike on, there are still a few kilometers ahead of us and the last bus of the day leaves at 6:30 p.m. French standards.


The trail is lined with mangroves. They are the first mangroves that I see in the wild. The pond is also a breeding ground for all kinds of mosquitoes, which spare us in the marina or at the anchorage. You don't fly for a meal for miles, but take the people who live right outside your door.


There is also a larger heron colony in the shallow waters, which are not connected to the sea, but are only filled up using rainwater.

Before St. Anne we find a beach bar after the hike. We were only six or seven kilometers away, but at temperatures around 30 ° C that's enough. So we refresh ourselves with an orangina and then we take the last bus of the day back to Sissi in the dark. A beautiful day.

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