The idea is to be in French Guiana sometime Monday by crossing the Maroni River on a barge that runs between Suriname and France on the oddest schedule you have ever seen. The fact is the Guyanas are weird, they just are.
Even the ferry service between these two countries operates on a Mickey Mpuse schedule you wouldn’t believe so here it is. In French only of course and the best thing is it changes every week.
The river is less than two miles wide with customers and immigration on each dock and the ferry runs back and forth during the hours specified, some days morning and afternoon and some just half a day but never on weekends. I think that’s weird.
Sunday afternoon we spent disassembling our six week long home and putting it into our home. Both of us are looking forward to being back aboard GANNET2 but the heat isn’t going to let up for quite a while. I miss the cool livable air of the pacific coast. 
Rusty has enjoyed his break in the a/c.
Squared off light pole.
Our neighbors are gardeners.
Rainy season is closing in with distant rolling thunder.
Breadfruit. Excellent in curry sauce.
Sunset papaya tree silhouette.
Goodbye Paramaribo. We enjoyed you.
So far we have found limited communication between Guyana and Suriname, partly no doubt because the cost of crossing on ferries doesn’t help but there just doesn’t seem much curiosity about what lies next door. With no ferry on weekends if you had a inkling you might like to spend some time off in French Guyana where there are actual beaches you could only do it leaving on Friday and coming back Monday. Ironically the land distances are not huge. Three hours should see even us, slowpokes, at the ferry and four more in the other side should get us to our apartment rented outside the capital Cayenne.
We’ve given ourselves five days in French Guiana but there are some tourist things to do, visit the European Space Agency launchpad, take a tour around the infamous Devil’s Island prison and some other stuff Layne is looking up. If you read the novel or saw the movie this is “Papillon” country, which gives it an anchor that Suriname and Guyana lack in the public imagination.
I doubt I will ever return to this corner of the world, anymore than we will return to South America after we drive back to Mexico, probably next year. Malaria prevented us seeing much of Guyana
but we have spent far too much time as a result in Suriname and yet I could stay longer. It’s easy here and I suppose it’s as well rainy season is encroaching. 
A final collection of photos from Paramaribo, the city spread out like a suburb.
I speak French so leaving Dutch behind will be a relief but France runs on 220volts so no more easy American style plugs to use with our appliances.
We will be driving on the right again and from what we can tell there is some camping culture in French Guyana. They have “carbets” (kar-bay) which from what I can figure are tiki huts, some with picnic tables where it’s often possible camp for the night if we need to do that.
French Guiana is an overseas department of France and sends a representative to the French parliament. It isn’t in the customs zone of the European Union known as the Schengen area, named for the treaty that created it but European travelers have no immigration barriers.
I was reading about French Overseas territories and I learned that French employees who choose to live in their colonies known as overseas departments get extra pay and also get doubled pension contributions, which is great for them but for visitors prices are said to be sky high.
Indeed our air bnb rates in Cayenne were nearly a hundred bucks a day where our fantastic place in Paramaribo was $40.
So these are some of the considerations going through my mind as we get ready to cross the Maroni River. I’m looking forward to it.
Pirenjaweg 19. It took me weeks to be able to pronounce our address.
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