Marie Galante
Everyone my husband and I spoke to demanded that one would need at least a week to fully understand the pace of island life on Marie Galante, an hour ferry ride from Point-a-Pitre.
We opted to rent bikes instead of a car, which might have been a dangerous choice because drivers there are pedal to the metal at all times (where are they going so fast? the beach?) and roads are narrow and winding. We found a few bike trails through the forest, mostly leading to nude beaches with dangerous undertow, but mainly we were content to ride down the palm-lined roads on the southern half of the island, stopping to pick bananas once in a while, and ending up at the yellow sand beach. (by the way, the beaches are more secluded on MG but not as pristine as on Guadeloupe's main islands. the water and sand are rougher and you have to clear your own spot amidst the driftwood and seaweed).
We stopped for a late lunch at the internet cafe on the beach in Saint Louis. I didn't actually see any computers but I was really only looking for food, which was prepared and served by a smashed Frenchman and his Dominican lady companion. We were the only customers and had to wait about an hour for the fishing boat to drop off the day's catch before the chef could even begin preparing our octopus but at least we knew that it was fresh. Down the road, we stopped for the night at a peculiar tourist village inhabited by wild dogs and a handful of French tourists.
After two days, I think we understood the pace of island life pretty well: rush to where you're going so when you get there you'll have more time to relax. You won't have to hurry until it's time to go somewhere else. And why would you go anywhere else if you're already at the beach, kicking back with your rum, your bananas, and your wild dogs?