Guadeloupe: My French Caribbean Paradise

We sailed into Pointe-à-Pitre at sunrise and the first thing that hit me was the smell — fresh baguettes and diesel mixed with frangipani. The cruise terminal is modern but the second we stepped outside we were in proper France: gendarmes in kepis, women on scooters with actual baguettes in their baskets, and every second shop a patisserie. I almost cried when I bit into a still-warm pain au chocolat before 8 a.m.

We grabbed a taxi straight to Sainte-Anne beach and I'm not exaggerating when I say it's one of the prettiest beaches I've ever seen — swaying palms, powder-white sand, and water shading from turquoise to sapphire. The beach was lively with French families and a few cruisers, kids building sandcastles, old guys playing dominoes under coconut trees. We rented loungers under a sea-grape tree and snorkeled right off the shore: massive brain coral heads, schools of sergeant majors darting around like yellow bullets, a 3-foot porcupinefish that puffed up when I got too close, and a small hawksbill turtle (maybe 2.5 ft shell) the color of mahogany gliding through the seagrass.

Lunch was at a beachside bokit stand — fried dough pockets stuffed with codfish accras, spicy sauce, and lettuce that somehow stays crisp in 90° heat. Then the best ti' punch of my life: agricole rum, lime, and just enough cane syrup to make you forgive every bad decision you've ever made. Afternoon we drove to Pointe des Châteaux — the wild eastern tip where the Atlantic smashes against red cliffs and the wind tries to blow your soul clean. The cross at the top has insane 360° views; I stood there watching waves explode 50 ft into the air and felt ridiculously small.

Back in Pointe-à-Pitre we wandered Marché Saint-Antoine for spices in rainbow piles and bought a jar of colombo powder that still makes my kitchen smell like vacation.

The pros: genuinely French food and beaches without European prices or pretension, and locals are warm once you attempt a bonjour.

The cons: most signs are only in French, and some beaches get busy with locals on weekends.

Practical tips: Learn three phrases — bonjour, merci, and s'il vous plaît — and doors magically open. Bring euro cash; many small places don't take cards. Reef-safe sunscreen is mandatory here — they're serious about protecting the coral.