Saint Martin/Sint Maarten is about 90sqkm and has around 70’000 residents; 44’000 on the Dutch and approx. 26’000 on the French side. Double that over the winter tourist season. Compare that to Grenada which is about 350sqkm with about 110’000 permanent inhabitants. Saint Martin is not considered a 3^rd world country despite the appearance of some neglected neighbourhoods. 

The majority of residents are expats from other Caribbean islands. Both sides of the island have proper minimum wage legislation, social services, mandatory insurance and labor protections laws. Because Sint Maarten has no customs duty importing any kind of goods can be done within a reasonable cost. The stores are well stocked with all kinds of consumer goods and luxury items. In fact, Sint Maarten is a shopping destination for consumers from many other Caribbean islands and not only popular with the cruise ship crowd. 

The island features two main cities, Marigot on the French side and Philipsburg on the Dutch side, along with several smaller towns like Grande Case on the north-east leeward side. The town is a jumble of crumbling, dilapidated Créole houses next to new, modern shops; dirty, narrow alleys and crumbling sidewalks along water front boutiques and restaurants, catering to the tourists and locals alike.

Our friend Pierre introduced us to Lolo’s, a sprawling, busy Creole eatery with picnic tables seating a couple of hundred people right on the water front in Grand Case. The large bbq’s in a haze of greasy smoke were laden with ribs, chicken and fish. A loud, fun place and the prices were decent. The four of us ate and drank for 85 Euros. Ten percent tip included. 

Marigot, the French capital, is built around the harbour front where scores of multi-million-dollar yachts are docked. Ferries from here serve other close islands like St. Barts and Anguilla, both of which can be seen on the horizon. There is a small market offering beach wear and souvenirs and a row of cheap eateries catering to locals and tourists alike. We had a good lunch of crêpes at Sandy’s. 

Philipsburg is home to the international airport and cruise ship docks. A wide waterfront boulevard with beach bars and hotels fronts the harbour, also home to a dozen superyachts. There are two parallel shopping streets, one row back from the waterfront – the first one high-end and closed to traffic, the other one not so much. Both streets were lined with side-by-side tourist stores offering the same gaudy T-shirts, beach wear, souvenirs and luggage along with the usual name-brand fashion outlets and at least a dozen jewellery stores. Obviously catering to the cruisers. We were kind of disappointed. The only redeeming feature were some of the older buildings with Creole style ornamented facades. Philipsburg also has some residential high-rises which is the first thing we noticed while flying in to the island. Multi-storied 4 and 5star hotels and casinos, reminiscent of the other Dutch island, Curaçao, extend towards the Simpson Bay Lagoon and the airport. It looks more like Miami Beach than a small Caribbean island. 

The French side has hundreds of villas and condos spread along the beaches and bays and up the rocky inclines which are overgrown with impenetrable, green, thorny scrub. Both jurisdictions feature large supermarkets, box stores and malls and dozens of hotels and resorts. There are no gardens on the island because there is no water. Water is supplied from a desalination plant, not suitable for watering anything except the toilet and washing machine. 

In 2017, Hurricanes Irma and Maria devastated the island. Ninety percent of all infrastructure was affected, much like Carriacou in 2024. The island is still dotted with ruins that bake away, crumbling in the eternal sunshine.

Cars are forced to drive on potholed island roads with no curbs while pedestrians dodge along parked cars without sidewalks and parking is at a premium. Kamakaze motorcyclists weave in and out of traffic at frightening speeds, many with no helmets or protective gear despite countless speed bumps.  

It is a busy, sprawling island and we have to dig whatever French we know from the recesses of our old brains. C’est la vie. Mind you, most everybody speaks some English, especially on the Dutch side.  Restaurants are expensive and the tourists are mainly American. They are easy to spot.

If you’re a foodie, St. Martin is after all French. Think baguettes, croissants, Camembert, duck breast, pâté foie gras and of course French wines. No taxes, no duties. For example, a box of 18 bottles of 1664 beer is € 7.30 or US$ 8.40. The same goes for cigarettes or cigars. 

We were lucky to have a local friend who drove us around and showed us the local spots like Marcel Beach and the Little Beach. Pierre also had access to a couple of kayaks which we used frequently, paddling out to a couple of small islands in the Étang de la Barrière, on the north side.

It’s hot here, every day. There are mosquitos but not overwhelming. One of the main worries is the Sargassum seaweed that floats in large matt-like masses and clogs up the beaches and waterways. While decaying, it releases stinky and toxic hydrogen sulfide gas, causing health issues and forcing people to vacate their fancy beachfront homes during Sargassum blooms. They occur mostly during the summer months but earlier every year.

I would recommend Grenada over Sint Maarten/Saint Martin, simply because of the vibe, the friendly local people and the fact that it has plenty of water and is therefore lush and colourful. Also, St. Georges has a historic waterfront around the carenage that is both picturesque and authentic.