If you’re bound for Mustique or Canouan, then chances are you’ll be arriving in your own private plane. Part of the archipelagic Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, these two pretty isles are so renowned for their exclusivity that they now function as international bywords for billionaire escapism. There are superyachts in the marina, the most upmarket of hotels rubbing shoulders along the shoreline, a championship golf course, powder white sand, long coral reefs and, most important, not a paparazzo in sight.
If, however, you’re a mere millionaire, you might change planes in the island of St Vincent before you head to its smaller neighbours. This is the route many take without a backward glance at Vincy, as it’s known to its friends, but they’re wrong to do so: St Vincent is, you see, one of the Caribbean’s most authentic and magnificent islands.
I visited recently and was stunned by its wild volcanic landscape, carpeted in such lush vegetation that you’d hardly bat an eye if King Kong sauntered out from that dense and mysterious green. It becomes less mysterious, though no less surprising, when explored.
There are numerous hiking trails on the island – to the top of the volcano (active but currently quiet) or the appropriately named Vermont track (mountains don’t get any greener than this) – and it was while hiking the latter when I was enlightened by the encyclopaedic rainforest knowledge of my guide, Elroy, who pointed out sensitive plants that curl up at the touch, and a leaf so waterproof that a droplet becomes a shimmering diamond on its surface.
We climbed to the top via haphazard steps, hoping to see the rare Saint Vincent parrot – and, when he was not to be found, headed instead for the SVG Botanical Gardens, where several of his stripe live happily among the rare specimens and exotic plants collected by Dr George Young, the first curator of the collection. Founded in 1765, the gardens predate not just Kew but every other botanic garden in the Western Hemisphere.
Driving onwards, we passed a funeral procession, the mourners singing in joyful unison as they climbed the hill to the graveyard. Donkeys, belonging to the small remaining Carib population, grazed at the roadside, beside stalls selling perfectly ripe mangos and star fruit. Scarlet-flowered flame trees formed yawning canopies over gardens.
In one particularly colourful garden, I found the Bush Bar. The creation of Zen – a Rastafarian with sun-bleached dreadlocks – it’s an open-air bar, restaurant and art school, built by hand with stone and bamboo and full of Zen’s own paintings. Her food is vegetarian, a local favourite known here as ital, a mixture of rice and local vegetables served with plantain chips and homemade pineapple wine. The mountain breeze here is cool, the vibe gentle, and it’s the ideal place for relaxing – or, as it’s known here, limin’.
As St Vincent is a volcanic island, the beaches are black – unless you are at Sandals, where white sand has been imported from Guyana. The adults-only, all-inclusive resort chain is, of course, a long-standing institution in the Caribbean, opening its first hotel in Jamaica in 1981, and continuing across seven more islands (and 17 resorts) to date.
But its most recent outpost has been something of a game-changer for the fortunes of pretty, overlooked St Vincent, now shedding its reputation as a mere stopover and stepping at last from the shadow of its glitzy sisters.
There are elements at Sandals that are reminiscent of a kind of luxury cruise: a variety of restaurants (steak, Japanese, Italian, seafood, pizza); parties and rum tastings (St Vincent produces the 84.5 per cent proof Sunset Rum, among the strongest in the world); a choice of pools and beaches; a spa, a gym and fitness classes; all kinds of water sports.
You can even have your very own butler. In fact, I had three – Clecia, Jude and Lukal – who collectively ensured that I’d not once lift a finger, working round the clock to make restaurant bookings, provide unexpected snacks, ferry me around in a golf buggy (that sun is hot), arrange sunset cruises or candle-lit dinners on the beach or simply set me up for a day of relaxing by the heart-shaped pool or on the beach (with a tented cabana and a cool box, naturally).
If you’re not inclined to lounge on the beach every day, you can add on an excursion or two: a cruise in search of dolphins and whales, a rum tour, a short boat ride down the coast to a Pirates of the Caribbean film set or a day at a nearby reef for snorkelling and diving.
There are trips, too, to the nearest Grenadine islands – though you can also take the local ferry, on which it takes around 35 minutes to reach neighbouring Bequia (pronounced Beckway). Less famously upmarket than Mustique or Canouan, Bequia nevertheless has plenty of yachts bobbing in its perfect natural harbour. Boats were always a big part of this island’s history, and have been built and repaired there for centuries. Bequia’s most unlikely maritime sideline, though, is whaling.
Established by Old Bill Wallace in the 1870s, the whalers used Moby Dick-style harpoons and traditional wooden sailing boats. They still do. Allowed to catch a maximum of four whales every year, in practice, they rarely catch more than one and, given the dangers – not to mention present-day views on whaling – it’s unsurprising that young Bequians are not keen to continue the tradition. The word on the Bequia street is that the hunt will soon disappear and whale-watching excursions will take over.
This is a quiet island, with lovely beaches, warm blue water and pleasant walks along coastal paths or up to Fort Hamilton (named for Alexander, whose father, James, lived on the island) for panoramic views over Admiralty Bay. There’s a local market, a famous model-boat shop owned by the Sargeant Brothers, a maritime museum and plenty of diving and snorkelling around stunning coral reefs.
At Jack’s Beach Bar, it’s all about the local fish (barracuda a speciality) and the setting. It’s positioned just above Princess Margaret Beach, a sandy stretch that earned its name when the eponymous HRH visited on her honeymoon – aboard the royal yacht Britannia in 1960 – and decided to go for a swim. This may be in sleepy little Bequia, but wherever you are in the Grenadines, it seems you’re never too far from celebrity.
Essentials
A seven-night stay for two adults at Sandals Saint Vincent and the Grenadines (in a Bamboo Palm Room with Balcony Tranquility Soaking Tub) costs from £3,059 per adult, all-inclusive, with international return flights and resort transfers. Based on a June 30, 2027, departure. Book via Unique Caribbean Holidays Ltd on 0800 597 0002, or visit sandals.co.uk.