There were no bags to fetch, I carried everything I needed with me in a tiny handbag. We were able to stroll through the pretty town centre towards the quays, along the harbour to the ferry terminal. Roni stopped off at a deli and bought us some sandwiches for the trip. There was a gust of wind and it blew my hair up as I stood and looked over the sparkling blue sea and watched the various boats and ships traverse the bay. The warm wind wrapped all around my body, between my legs and I felt embraced. How had I not considered coming here before? I knew about this place, dimly I suppose but some reticence prevented me from exploring further. And yet it was fantastic here.
An archipelago of beautiful islands. St. Jeanne awaited but St. Colette itself was stunning and so welcoming, being naked was liberating, it was not a restriction as I had lazily assumed. Far from it being something on the debit side of the column, something you had to weigh against the myriad positives about being here, some compromise we women would have to endure in order appreciate the many benefits of these island. Far from that, it turned out, it was the first thing on the credit side of the ledger. Les Trois Soeurs, where if you are lucky enough to be female, you get to be naked and utterly free the whole time you are here.
I skipped across to Roni and we made our way to the terminal. Roni checked us in and we waited for the boat to come to shore, I could see it on its way, its deck full of eager naked passengers. Colettas returning home from who knows what exciting adventures, some of them with guilty secrets to keep from their men no doubt, others with exciting tales to tell. And Jeanettes visiting their sister island, a few of whom no doubt inclined to sample some of the burgers on offer here.
There was a lower deck of cars, bikes and trucks too. I was reminded that this ferry was a main artery between the two islands. There were commercial ships for most trade between the islands as evinced by the stacks of shipping containers just visible around the corner alongside the commercial port but the ferry provided a vital transport link, particularly given that the only airport was on this island.
When we eventually boarded, Roni led me by the hand to the uppermost deck. We stood looking back at St. Colette but when we got moving we would be facing towards the open sea and eventually I would get my first sight of St. Jeanne. It didn't take long for everyone to board and I felt the ferry unmoor and slowly reverse out of the dock. I looked around and all I saw was naked female flesh. I hadn't arrived on St. Jeanne yet but in another sense I had.
Everyone on board was naked, everyone was female. All shapes, sizes, colours, ages. I saw two teenage girls bickering, one of their moms deliberately ignoring them and looking out to sea while her wife played peacemaker. They weren't the only family travelling and I remembered that St. Jeanne, though all female, was a full society with every household type you would find elsewhere. I had this pleasant sensation of sisterhood, it was instinctive, I felt a sort of warm glow inside. Roni turned to me and winked, raising her eyebrow as if to say "See?"
The crossing didn't take long and I savoured the mild sea breeze, the crystal blue waters. I felt at ease with the world. London had been my home and I enjoyed living there but I never felt relaxed. There was always something to disturb that sense of peace of mind. I just knew that would not be the case here. I hadn't even started work at Jeanne Tech yet, I hadn't even landed on St. Jeanne but I felt more and more that I wasn't just trying out something to see if it fit me. I felt like this was a new chapter in my life. I had left Outremer a very short time ago but it felt distant to me now. Here, on the sea, travelling from St. Colette to St. Jeanne felt like real life, vivid, meaningful in a way that much if my time in London did not.
St Jeanne's hills hove into view. So verdant. It was a brush of vivid green even through the heat haze, set off by the sparkling sea and then the glinting white cubes of houses, villages and a denser massing of St. Jeanne-Ville, our destination. My heartbeat quickened. I was finally arriving. I looked around again and I remembered that I was leaving the world of men behind and yet this was almost an afterthought. A few weeks ago I couldn't have imagined living somewhere entirely bereft of men but now it didn't bother me in the slightest. On the contrary I was eagerly looking forward to seeing what this place would be like.
The island loomed bigger and I made out buildings, windows, people, palm trees, vehicles. The hustle and bustle of Jeanne-Ville carried on, blithely unaware of, what to me personally was momentous, my arrival on the island. We docked and Roni turned to me.
"Let's go, I cannot wait to show you St. Jeanne."
She led me by the hand down the gangplank and to the harbour, my feet touched the cool slightly damp stone of the paving. My reaction must have been noticeable. Ronu clarified
"Barefoot comfort is paramount on Les Trois Soeurs but particularly here. Stone choice, shading, irrigation, and regular cleaning ensure we can walk anywhere in the town in comfort and without worry."
We walked along the quay from the ferry port and the beauty of the town took my breath away. It was so pretty and elegant. Little shops with awnings projecting out, cafes, restaurants and houses in between with myriad potted plants on the paving outside. Roni took me to a cafe just around the corner on Le Cirque, the main "square" of Jeanne-Ville, though it was circular in shape, entirely ringed by buildings with stucco facades and then parallel to that, just past the seating areas for the restaurants, an inner ring of palm trees. It was stunning.
There was a fountain in the middle that was set flush with the pavement with huge jets of water that would momentarily pause and crash to the ground immediately draining away. Teenagers were slaloming through it on their skateboards and skates, timing their route to coincide with the pauses or causing ripples of laughter when they were soaked by the water jets. All around observed by a pleasant mix of locals and tourists. Everyone, teenagers, tourists, locals, families, urban professionals, waiting staff, passersby alike, was female and each one of us was nude.
Roni and I sat down at the edge of the seating area under a tall palm. We had a great view of Le Cirque and silhouetted beyond, Jeanne-Ville's gentle tree lined hills dotted with white cubic houses. Beside us was a pair of blonde girls chatting, hair tied into high ponytails. I didn't need to look too long to determine that their friendship was platonic, sisterly even. Something about their body language gave it away and this was then confirmed when they were joined by a tanned brunette who beamed from side to side as she arrived.
Her curly chestnut hair hung loose but, without any deliberate action on her part, seemed perpetually shy of concealing her breasts. She had this lovely casual air about her. The way the first blonde looked at her and the way this look was returned I knew straight away that there was burgeoning romantic connection between them. She pulled up a seat beside the blonde and there were countless instinctive comings together, hand to thigh, shin to calf, toe to toe. Something about this reunion affected me. I envied them. I don't remember a time when I felt such a connection with anyone, certainly never with my supposedly current boyfriend.
I sipped my café cortado and took in the sights, near and far. It was heavenly here and I must have had a big smile on my face.
"So what do you think?"
"Oh, it's lovely."
"You haven't seen the half of it yet!"
We dallied a little and soaked up the vibe and then it was time to move on. My new apartment was not far and Roni was keen to show me. We walked past the pretty streets to a section of more industrial looking buildings. Big handsome brick structures with large steel framed windows.
"This used to be the industrial part of town up to thirty years ago before they completed the Park of Science and Industry. It used to be a run down part of town but artists moved in and it became trendy. Then the developers realised that these warehouses and factories could be converted to shops, galleries, workspaces and apartments."
And I could see bakeries, restaurants, galleries. There was this huge mural on one gable wall. St. Jeanne rendered in a sort of retro-1930s style. Naked, gleaming, eyes looking out to a distant star, a futuristic moonscape behind her enveloped in a huge glass dome. Roni beckoned towards it.
