This was it. We had one shot, one opportunity; we couldn’t miss our chance to blow, to seize everything we ever wanted. So we asked ourselves: would we capture it, or just let it slip? Despite our palms being sweaty, knees weak, arms heavy — maybe even a smidge of evidence of mom’s spaghetti — on the surface we were calm and ready to take on our final full day in France. Yep, that just happened.
Read MoreIt was a random Sunday in July when my traveling companion and I decided to write down a number of countries we might want to visit in the next year or so on little scraps of paper. We proceeded to toss said scraps of paper, maybe a couple dozen, into a Red Wings beanie. We then shook them all up and fished out three just to see what we’d get. We told ourselves beforehand that none of this was binding, but then gave each other simultaneous side-eye glances after saying so, as if to indicate that maybe we kinda wanted it to be, that perhaps maybe it was.
Read MoreAs you might remember, it began with an airplane — more specifically, the kind that flies right over your head as you stand on a tiny beach. That phenomenon, if you will, was what brought us to Saint Martin, an island in the northeastern Caribbean Sea comprised of territory belonging to the Netherlands and France.
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