The Herald - The Herald Magazine
St Vincent and The Grenadines: Chain of jewels offers beauty, drama, and sun
THERE’S something so invigorating about the Tropics. All my senses are awakened. Every natural phenomenon is more extreme and dramatic. The downpours are sudden and torrential to which the lush vegetation responds eagerly in its fight for light and growth. The stars are stark, the sunsets stun and the water catches the eye as it glints and glistens.
St Vincent and The Grenadines is an archipelago of 32 islands. Nine are inhabited of which some are private. They stretch some 44 miles like beads in a rosary, like a chain of divine jewels.
And they’re a paradise for yachties: they’re perfectly spaced with land forever in sight and no island over three hours away, with trade winds blowing at a steady 15 knots and harbours home to great restaurants and bars.
The islands were settled mainly by Scottish families, mariners and shipwrights with names like Macintosh, Stewart, Mitchell and McQuilkin.
The island of St Vincent has its own dense rainforest, its own Sunset Rum and Hairoun beer and no traffic lights. Dogs enjoy the heated tarmac, chickens literally cross the road and goats nibble on the playing fields.
There are banana plantations, coconut groves and a bamboo forest. Gingerbread houses stand on stilts and customarily get repainted at Christmas.
Up in the north, where the Caribs still live, there are mountain trails, waterfalls and wildlife along with heliconias, giant ferns, palms and blue mahoes. I loved the bustle of Kingstown’s fruit market and the heritage of the Botanical Gardens. At the Wallilabou Heritage Park all is vibrant and brimming with abundance. Tarzan-swinging ropes make way here for the film set of Pirates of the Caribbean with a museum containing its props and backdrops.
For the perfect place to adjust from a flight to a very different climate, and only 20 minutes’ drive from the airport and 10 minutes from the capital, I loved Beachcombers Hotel. “Fish of the day: Barracuda,” said the waitress and I knew I had truly arrived. Ten of its cosy, cottagey 57 rooms (with prices from $120 in low season) have ocean views.
Through lush tropical gardens enlivened by birds, lizards and bees and besprinkled with frangipani, hibiscus and bougainvillea, I reached Ada restaurant where there’s broad decking below the high white rafters of this vast ambient open space yards from the shore. It has Anatolian fused with Caribbean flavours. Indeed, the wonderfully contemporary menu is sourced from the local volcanic soil.
What divine inspiration dreamt up the island of Bequia?
Pronounced Bekwey and meaning island of the clouds in ancient Arawak, it’s a sevenmile expanse which developed less from sugar as from sea-island cotton and indigo, from boat building (especially schooners), whaling and merchant seamen. Nowadays 70% of the economy comes from tourists the more adventurous of whom are blessed with fantastic conditions for sailing and wonderful snorkelling, kayaking and hiking.
Right in the heart of the island’s action is Bequia Plantation Hotel. Dating from the 1950s and on the site of the island’s first hotel, the central building has broad verandas decked with old mahogany tables, rattan sofas and plantation chairs, a traditional, cultured feel for the discerning guest.
It’s set back from a lovely stretch of beach and water with gorgeous grounds with mango, guava and breadfruit trees
and the spongiest of grass. The tranquil, duck-egg blue gingerbread-style square cottages are beautifully spaced. Their exteriors have pretty fretwork. In their fresh, airy interiors blue-and-white contemporary decor mirrors the central plantation house.
I loved my daylight trail from the cottage around the headland to Princess Margaret Beach, and my evening wander along the well-lit Belmont Walkway, past restaurants to the stalls and the harbour in Admiralty Bay.
Even on a small island it’s worth going the extra mile. Discretely tucked away on the island’s edge and truly sublime is The Liming. With the word being local lingo for “hanging around, usually in a public place with friends, enjoying the scene”, the hotel certainly encourages its own motto of “the art of doing nothing”. It’s a boutique
hotel and a perfect treat for honeymooners. Creams and whites blend with tree-trunk tables, wicker mats and vast rustic gourds. It’s so nourishing because everything is in harmony with nature.
Spread across well-kept gardens that include silver Bismarck Palms are the nine soft yellow villas (to become 23 by September). Their solid square interiors reminded me of David Hockney’s with his white furnishings, still ferns, open white shutters and plunge pools.
The incredibly spacious restaurant, under its vast dodecahedral roof, is the ultimate indoor-outdoor pavilion and has views of the surrounding islands. The cuisine, with Garry the Glaswegian chef, is fresh and delicious and the rum punches are quite a knock-out.
It all conjured up James Bond and Ursula Andress as the odd twin otter descends excitingly low over the pavilion roof to the
airstrip beyond allowing celebrities to land for lunch as do passing yachties that moor on the jetty. Often luxury requires space. It’s never felt crowded and I even had the beach to myself as I came back with a day-pass that gave me lunch and use of the beach.
As the islands get smaller, so their charm intensifies. I arrived at night via the Jaden Express ferry. I changed at Union Island and I couldn’t take my eyes on its jagged peaks. They forever changed shape just like the dramatic approach to Mo‘orea in the South Pacific. I reached the spectacular Petit St Vincent.
AS I stepped onto the resort’s powerful speedboat I knew instantly I was in the lap of luxury. With all the stars shining bright there was all the joyful expectation of the morning’s discoveries to come as dawn unwrapped the island like a glorious present.
The resort has as its mantra “relaxed Caribbean charm with a touch of elegance”. All the elements are combined: rock and wood, Atlantic air, seawater and rain and fiery heat from the sun.
Each of the 22 stone beach cottages look out to an island. They blend with nature with their neutral earthy tones, their vaulted ceilings, their teak furnishings and sliding doors. The daytime Beach restaurant menu is effortlessly enticing with its chunky organic-shaped wooden tables under its swaying palms and almond trees.
The Main Pavilion restaurant, perched up high, offers a different menu every night using its organic produce from its extensive garden.
Courtesy of the resort, I spent the day out sailing in a boat called Beauty. Past Mopion, the famous sandbank used for the rum advert, I reached Tobago Cays Marine Park to swim with turtles and snorkel for bright pretty fish. Then back to the hammocks and swings. No TV sets. Instead, birdsong and croaking frogs with the clearest crystalline seawater, white powdered sands and tropical woodlands.
It is enchanting and magical; truly is a treasure island.