Marigot

Before Europeans arrived, the island was home to Arawak and later Carib peoples, who called it something like Soualiga, "land of salt", for the salt ponds on the southern shore. Archaeological sites show settlement thousands of years old, and finds from digs are displayed in the Musée de Saint-Martin. Christopher Columbus sighted the island on 11 November 1493, the feast day of Saint Martin of Tours, and gave it that name.

Spain claimed the island but did little with it until the Dutch, needing salt, built a fort in 1631 at what is now Philipsburg. The Spanish seized the island in 1633 and abandoned it in 1648. That year, French and Dutch settlers, who had been living side by side, agreed on a division in the Treaty of Concordia. A popular legend says the boundary was set by a Frenchman and a Dutchman who walked in opposite directions from a point on the coast, and that the French got more land because the Frenchman, fuelled by wine, walked faster than the Dutchman, who stopped for gin. The boundary has held ever since, and 11 November is Concordia Day on both sides.

The French side grew sugar and cotton with enslaved labour, and later salt. Marigot became the main French settlement and port; the French built Fort Louis in the 1760s to protect it. Slavery was abolished in the French colonies in 1848, and the island's economy shifted to small trade, fishing and salt. By the 20th century, Saint-Martin was poor, and its main trade was smuggling and small-scale farming.

Tourism transformed the island from the 1960s. The Dutch side became a duty-free port and built an airport, the French side developed resorts and restaurants, and the population grew. In 2007 Saint-Martin became a separate overseas collectivity of France, no longer attached to Guadeloupe. The island suffered a severe blow in September 2017 when Hurricane Irma damaged most buildings, and reconstruction has been steady since.

For a visitor the shared history is visible in small ways: French road signs and Dutch ones, euro and guilder prices, a boundary monument by the main road, and the fact that you can cross from one side to the other without stopping. It is one of the few places in the world where two countries share an island with no border control.

Marigot is small enough to learn in a morning. It has four parts: the waterfront market and ferry pier at the southern end, the Boulevard de France along the bay, the marina of Port La Royale to the north-west, and the shopping streets of Rue de la République and Rue de la Liberté behind. Fort Louis stands on a hill above them all.

The waterfront is where the day starts. On Wednesday and Saturday mornings the market fills the front with spices, fruit, sarongs and crafts. The ferry terminal for Anguilla and Saint Barth is beside it, and cafés on the boulevard offer coffee and croissants. By midday the sun is strong and the crowd thins.

Port La Royale is the marina area. Terraces face the boats, boutiques fill an arcade and the light is best in the late afternoon. It is the standard lunch stop, and a good place for a slow evening drink.

Beyond Marigot, the French side has several distinct areas. Grand Case, six kilometres north, is the island's dining street: a row of French, Creole and Italian restaurants and simple barbecue stalls (lolos) along a calm beach. Orient Bay, on the east coast, is the busiest beach, with water sports and beach clubs. Friar's Bay and Happy Bay are smaller, quieter beaches near Marigot. Anse Marcel is a resort bay in the north-east.

The Dutch side is a different mood: Philipsburg has duty-free shops, cruise ships and a boardwalk; Simpson Bay and Maho are lively with bars, casinos and the airport, where planes land low over the beach. Most visitors use both sides, and the two-side mix is a large part of the island's appeal.

A practical way to use the geography is to sleep where you want the mornings and dinners to be, and to treat the rest as taxi rides. Marigot suits travellers who want to walk to the market, the marina and the ferry; Grand Case suits those who want the beach at the door and dinner a short walk away. Neither suits people who plan to see everything on foot, since the island is hilly and hot.

The French side has a good claim to be the best place to eat in the Caribbean, because it combines French training, Caribbean fish and a supply chain that includes French cheese, wine and bread. In Marigot the choice runs from a five-euro baguette sandwich to a long bistro lunch on the marina, and in Grand Case to some of the island's best restaurants.

Start the day at a boulangerie: croissants, pains au chocolat, baguettes and quiche, with coffee. The waterfront market adds crêpes made to order, fresh juice and fried snacks such as accras (salt-cod fritters) and johnny cakes. It is a cheap, quick, cash-only breakfast that many visitors prefer to the hotel.

For lunch, the marina terraces and the bistros on the Boulevard de France serve fish of the day, salads, burgers and Creole dishes such as colombo, a curry that came from India by way of Guadeloupe and Martinique. Lobster (langouste) is priced by weight and worth agreeing before it is cooked. Lunch runs from 12:00 to about 14:30, and many places then close until the evening.

Dinner is the island's big meal. Grand Case has dozens of restaurants, from simple tables to formal French rooms, and the lolos, open-air barbecue stalls that serve ribs, chicken and fish with rice and beans. Book ahead in winter and take a taxi both ways. Many restaurants close on Sunday evening or in the low season, so check.

Drinks reflect the two sides. Rum punch is the beach classic, guavaberry liqueur (made from a local berry and rum) is the island's signature drink, Carib and Presidente are the local beers, and French wine is widely available and often good value. Tap water is treated, but many visitors prefer bottled water. Prices are higher than on the mainland, so a bakery lunch and a lolo dinner are the best value.

A sensible plan for a first day is coffee and a croissant at a bakery, the market on a Wednesday or Saturday, a marina lunch with the fish of the day, an afternoon at a calm beach, and dinner in Grand Case by taxi. Vegetarians can eat well on salads, crêpes, cheese, pasta and vegetable plates; those avoiding pork should ask about lardons, sausage and ribs.

The sea is the reason most people come. Marigot faces west toward Anguilla, and the bay is calm, but the island's beaches vary from calm coves to long open strands. Friar's Bay and Grand Case have gentle water and are good with children; Orient Bay has waves and wind and is popular for kitesurfing, jet skis and paddleboards; Happy Bay and Anse Marcel are quiet.

Ferries connect Marigot to Anguilla, about 20 to 25 minutes away, and to Saint Barthélemy, about 45 to 60 minutes. Anguilla is a British territory with quiet beaches and simple seafood restaurants; Saint Barth is a French luxury island. You need a passport for both, and departure fees can be added. The crossings can be rough in winter swells, so take a tablet if you are prone to sickness.

If you plan two ferry days, do the calm-sea one first and keep the second flexible. Operators cancel when the wind and swell are high, and the last boat back is fixed, so read the return time before you commit to a long beach day on Anguilla.

Boat trips run from several bays: snorkelling at Creole Rock and Tintamarre, sunset cruises and glass-bottom trips. The islands off the north-east coast are part of a nature reserve, with rules against touching coral, feeding fish or anchoring on reefs. Use reef-safe sunscreen and follow the guides.

The sea also brings risk. Hurricane season runs from June to November, with the peak from August to October; storms can close ferries and flights and force hotels to shut. Swimming has its own hazards: currents on the windward beaches, sea urchins, jellyfish and occasional sargassum seaweed. Ask lifeguards, swim in marked areas and check the forecast.

One final tip: on the Dutch side, Maho Beach is famous for planes landing a few metres above the sand. It is a spectacle, and it is dangerous close to the fence because of jet blast, so stay behind the safety line and follow the signs.

The island's year runs on two clocks: the tourist season and the storm season. From December to April, the dry season, hotels are full, restaurants are open and events fill the calendar. From June to November hotels and restaurants thin out, prices fall, and a few close for repairs or a break.

Carnival is the biggest local event. On the French side it runs before Lent, with parades in Marigot, costumes, music and the burning of Vaval, a straw figure, on Ash Wednesday. Streets close and hotels fill, so book ahead. On the Dutch side, Carnival is held in April and May.

Concordia Day on 11 November marks the 1648 treaty, with ceremonies at the boundary monument and events on both sides. Bastille Day on 14 July brings parades and fireworks to Marigot. The abolition of slavery is remembered in late May on the French side, with a public holiday and local events (check the date).

The seasonal split also shapes the working year. Many staff arrive for the winter season and leave in summer, and small shops and guest houses may close for weeks after the peak. If you travel in low season, phone ahead for a specific restaurant, a boat trip or a hotel pool, and expect fewer choices but calmer beaches and lower bills.

The Heineken Regatta on the Dutch side in early March fills the island with sailors and their fans, and it is one of the region's biggest sailing events. Christmas and New Year bring lights and the highest prices of the year, and Easter is busy with local families.

For planning, the market days (Wednesday and Saturday) are the most useful weekly rhythm, and the most important annual date is the start of hurricane season on 1 June. Check the forecast, keep flexible bookings from August to October, and confirm that your hotel or restaurant is open in the low season.

Daily life on the French side is a mix of French habits and Caribbean pace. Shops open early, close for a long lunch and shut on Sunday afternoons; a bakery queue forms in the morning and cafés fill at 17:00. People greet with a bonjour when they enter a shop, and it is polite to do the same.

The population is mixed: families whose roots go back centuries, migrants from Haiti, the Dominican Republic and other Caribbean islands, French families who came for work, and long-stay visitors. French is the official language, English is common, and Creole and Spanish are heard at home. Many workers cross between the two sides daily.

Getting around is simple: a car or taxi is the norm, and buses run on a few routes. Roads are narrow and busy at rush hour, and the bridges on the road to the airport open for boats at set times, which causes delays. Locals plan around them, and visitors should too: leave a buffer on airport days.

Hurricanes shape daily life: buildings have shutters and generators, and people keep an eye on the forecast from August. After Irma in 2017, much of the island was rebuilt with stronger codes, and you will still see repairs. Ask locals about the day; they are usually generous with advice.

Sunday has its own rhythm: families go to church and to the beach, many shops and restaurants shut by late afternoon, and the waterfront is quiet. If you want the town at its liveliest, come on a Wednesday or Saturday morning; if you want it at its calmest, come on a Sunday and take a long lunch by the marina, then walk the boulevard as the light turns.

For a visitor the practical points are few: carry small euro notes, say bonjour, cover up away from the beach, use reef-safe sunscreen, leave nothing in a parked car, and check the currency of every price. The island rewards a slow morning and a long lunch.