Imagine an unspoiled holiday haven without poverty or crime, where the locals are ultra-friendly and, wherever you turn, you are confronted with stunning views
Actually, you don’t have to imagine it, because it’s real — and just an eight-hour flight from the UK. Welcome to the French Caribbean island of St Barts, a secret paradise previously known just to the wealthy, who have made it the richest nine square miles in the world. What attracts them is the place’s exclusivity, but also its laid-back French style. Increasingly, though, it is luxury available to anyone who can afford to splash out on a fairly up-market package — and with the courage to brave the flight in between two sheer mountain peaks.
Reverend Charles Vere Nicoll
If the mark of true class is simplicity, then St Barts is in the premier league. Take the church service I attended. Conducted by the Reverend Charles Vere Nicoll, an Old Etonian, who sipped iced tea with his congregation before going off to tend the flock in his other holy haunt — his beautiful seafront hotel, the Isle de France, a jewel in the bay of Anse des Flamands.
‘You can’t get a seat in my church in high season,’ boasted the reverend mopping his brow. It is only October, but the heat is searing and it’s humid, although it gets drier as winter progresses. It probably was a lot drier when Rod Stewart popped in for a spot of worship with girlfriend Penny Lancaster last year. I can’t see Penny putting up with her dress sticking to her legs, however long they are.
Where New York and Connecticut meet St Tropez and Notting Hill
While the congregation are silently saying their own prayers, I wonder if they’re secretly asking the Almighty to make sure there’s enough money in their bank accounts to pay their hotel bill. Back at the Isle de France pool Rev Charlie swaps his clerical robes for a simple linen shirt with a pack of Marlboros in the top pocket, and changes the Communion wine for a chilled chardonnay. It is easy to see why the rich Americans who come here love him.
His manners are impeccable, his English accent cut-glass and his character droll. The guests also love his eccentric wife, Mandie, who drapes her pencil-thin figure in diaphanous shifts. And, when she is not topping up her walnut tan on the beach (or her office as she calls it), she is sending her three dogs into the surrounding bush to sniff out any paparazzi. Well, she does need to protect her high-season, high-profile guests.
Let’s face it, during the hot winter months this is where New York and Connecticut meet St Tropez and Notting Hill. It is also why the Isle de France is very understated – and as one of just two five-star hotels on the island it can afford to be. There is no sweeping driveway, neon sign or majestic foyer. Just a simple New England white and Notting Hill blue façade, surrounded by twitching palms. Guests check in at reception, where they plop onto a sofa and are handed a chilled glass of champagne.
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Eccentric fusion of British, French and Caribbean influences
My bed, draped in soft netting, was the size of a studio apartment. The huge bathroom had marble floors and walls, a showerhead the size of a dinner plate, and a bath big enough to scuba dive in. It all led on to a covered balcony with table and chairs, which extended to an outdoor balcony overlooking the pool and beach.
The seductive enchantment of St Barts is its eccentric fusion of British, French and Caribbean influences. The local supermarket and little roadside stalls sell the best French wine in the world. There are more than 30 restaurants and, in the trendy beach village of St Jean, you will discover dozens of little boutiques offering the sort of individual fashions you normally only find in Paris or St Tropez. Some of the rich and famous who flock here sail in on their yachts. Others land their private ‘his and hers’ jets on the tiny airstrip they call an airport, and rent secluded suites and cottages.
It is best to hire a car because taxis are expensive. Take the plunge and tackle St Barts’ dodgy road system. It is worth it. Round every steep bend of crumbling rock a stunning panorama unfolds. You don’t have to lock the car if you want to get out and have a wander, as even the locals are well-off here.
For a different, wilder experience, drop in at the Guanahani hotel, along the coast, on a delightful peninsula between Marigot Bay and the Grand Etang. This is where the rooms are built as pretty little pastel Caribbean houses. There is a fantastic beach bar where you can lounge in oversized wooden chairs or dine on sushi, lobster, pasta or hamburgers at the alfresco restaurant. From here, you can watch the windsurfers wrestle with their boards and scuba divers kit up to explore the deep. This is the spot to be if you want to pursue boat trips or do some gentle snorkeling.
Unfortunately, the weather defeated my planned snorkeling expedition to Colombier Beach just along from the Isle de France. I had heard it was great for spotting turtles and exotic fish. I had my picnic, thoughtfully packed by the hotel staff, and was set to make the 15-minute hike along the beach, but one of those pesky tropical rainstorms got in the way. But, however inclement the climate can be, it’s a price well worth paying to enter this private paradise.
Accommodation at Hotel Isle de France, St Barts, from £2,790 per person, based on two adults sharing. Price includes seven nights’ accommodation in a Tropical Garden Bungalow, continental breakfast, return transfers and economy flights with Virgin Atlantic and shared charter. Details from Elegant Resorts, tel: 01244 897516 or visit www.elegantresorts.co.uk
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