Ego- Ouanalao= Opposites.
An evening stroll over by where Brigantine used to be, there are tunes floating over the harbor. We stick our head in a little seaside building and see a small band playing away. There is Bruno, with a beer by his foot, smiling as he gazes over the harbor. We are an audience of two.
Another year we are at BAZ. A small ensemble is playing and then we notice the music changes and sounds more familiar. We look over and see Jimmy B is singing a tune we know well.
It used to be Saturday nights of the Bucket, the yachts were opened up for anybody to board and tour. Wine, champagne, appetizers and live music were offered. Believe someone said a while back this no longer occurs.
My wife standing at the surfs edge looking out at sea at Gouverneur Beach. A short stature gentleman comes out of the shrubs behind her. He is in perfect physical shape with a nice tan. He looks over and nods a Bonjour, with a twinkle in his eye, and Roman dives out into the water for what must be a daily swim.
Who are the people walking and dining among us that own or lease those huge yachts berthed in the Gustavia harbor each year? No one knows or cares.
Members of the Middletons come with regularity to Eden Rock. Sir Paul makes his appearances at different times. Owners of the island hotels mingle with their guests.
We are all the same-equals- on this earth. Ouanalao is always here.