The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
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Mariella Frostrup enjoys oligarch-level luxury at Soho House’s new island outpost in the Caribbean
Over a refreshing Soho Mule (a variation on the classic Moscow Mule), in a thatched open-air bar, eyes ablaze, intoxicated by his topic rather than his cocktail, my companion Charlie is listing the Soho House destinations he has previously visited.
For a 28-year-old resident of Los Angeles, who by his own admission hadn’t ventured abroad until he became a member of the UK-bornnow-globally-famous lifestyle brand and began his grand tour of their international clubhouses, it’s pretty comprehensive. He describes with dogged devotion country clubs like Babington House and Soho Farmhouse, speaks nostalgically of party nights at clubhouses in Barcelona and Miami, and with equal enthusiasm about becoming a shareholder when the company recently went public.
It’s thanks to converts like him that this once minuscule British membership club, birthed in 1990s Soho, has expanded into a global, brand-loyal community. Little details: the silver engraved pots containing “goodies”, the ubiquitous Cowshed toiletries and the availability of nursery staples like mac and cheese wherever you are in the world, are just some of the totems of their “sleepover” experience. Even so, Charlie’s level of proselytising is bordering on the cult-like.
When I tell him I am acquainted with the owner (or should that be cult leader?) Nick Jones, he grasps my hand and begs me to pass on that Soho House has changed his life. His only gripe is that they don’t sell branded clothing and merchandise so he can wear it on his chest.
Breaking off for a moment, Charlie looks over his shoulder to see if the barman is listening, but he’s too well trained in discretion for that. Turning back, he whispers conspiratorially: “You don’t mind me talking to you, do you? I know we’re not supposed to approach members we don’t know without an invitation…” In fact, far from being part of a buzzy throng, we are the only two occupants of the bar, at the tail end of a global pandemic. Fans of Apocalypse Now will understand why I’m starting to think I’ve stumbled on Captain Kurtz.
In fact, we’re among a handful of residents at the newest Soho Beach House, on the tiny island of Canouan in St Vincent and the Grenadines. Hitherto, and slightly inexplicably, it has always been the bridesmaid and never the bride to better-known neighbours Mustique and Bequia. Canouan seems finally to be having its day. Along with this barefoot beachclub, a Mandarin Oriental, a worldclass golf course, a brand-new marina deep enough for superyachts, a runway fit for international flights (and the biggest private jets), it’s an easyaccess destination for those for whom cost is not in the equation.
Catering to a 21st-century clientele of metrosexuals and international entrepreneurs, Soho House has generally chosen urban hotspots for its proliferation of members’ clubs, lifestyle stores and work spaces. The Canouan Beach House is a surprising departure. Members will be relieved to hear the Wi-Fi works brilliantly, unusual in this part of the world, but it’s the only nod to the needs of today’s digital nomad. Instead the seductively simple rooms are desk free, and in classic clapboardrow houses painted in the freshest shades of white and chalky blue with verandas facing an Insta-perfect white sand beach. There is nothing else to distract the eye and the business of total relaxation is clearly the enticement. Beach golf is the most demanding activity on offer (perfect after a long lunch, putt-ing crafted fish-food balls into the ocean and adding levity to the luxury). A South Pacific-themed reception area, restaurant and bar with signature lounging areas, hanging wicker chairs and double beach beds complete the picture.
For the 99.9 per cent of the population without a private jet, scheduled flights are set to start direct from London to neighbouring St Vincent and this once overlooked and hard to reach backwater, a medley of jungle-covered hills dotted with colourful wooden cabins, looks set to become a brandnew destination. It’s also a perfect base to pop over to Mustique’s famed Basil’s Bar for lunch, sail along the St Vincent coastline to see the volcano or pop down to Tobago Cays to snorkel with the protected turtle population.
While fandom on a par with Charlie’s may be rare, it is all too easy to be seduced by the Soho House signatures; welcoming staff, superking beds that are vast oases of their Frette collaboration bed linen, the softest pillows and international menus all bestowing oligarchal-level home comforts wherever you roam. Combining those staples with lazy days on the beach followed by balmy evenings with soft music in a bar where all the seating is squishy and a gentle sea breeze caresses your body is enough to turn even the most discerning traveller into a gushing disciple. I suspect Charlie and I won’t have it to ourselves for long.
Brilliant Wi-Fi is the only nod to the needs of today’s digital nomad