Rum, blue skies and 365 beaches: Antigua was the tonic to my pre-Christmas blues
It’s not overindulging on rum cocktails that has us stumbling around looking for our rooms on our first night at the Inn at English Harbour in Antigua, to the accompaniment of a mocking cacophony of tree frogs. Honest, we had just one, having realised – at first sip – that there is madness in the measures. It is, rather, the absolute and disorienting darkness that envelops the island once the sun sinks beneath the horizon. There is no gradual lessening of daylight here, no hazy in-between. From its clear blue, the sky blazes, all pink-gold drama; by 6pm, it is black as pitch.
Having arrived late afternoon and made our way down to the bayside Reef restaurant to feast on mahi-mahi as we witnessed the spectacle, we have not yet established the lie of the land, and the intensity of the night is remarkable. The rooms, when we eventually happen upon them, are more than worth returning to, featuring dark wood floors, canopied beds and shuttered doors leading out on to vast verandas.
It is from this vantage point that I survey my surroundings, now gilded by early sun, the next morning. The pool and a swathe of perfectly manicured grass lie between me and the beach, but I have only one goal in mind: the sensation of warm sand under foot and the joyful, buoyant, literally uplifting feeling of floating in warm, salty water. If it was an experience for which I was grateful at the time – mid-December, when London moved to Level 3, and then to Level 4 – I am even more appreciative now, with the entire country back into full lockdown.
I thank my lucky stars that this trip was shoehorned into that window of opportunity. As, previously, one of the few destinations not requiring quarantine on return, it’s my hope that Antigua will be back on the radar of possibility for British travellers soon. Goodness knows, now more than ever just about everyone could surely do with a break so joyfully restorative.
Oddly enough, despite industry reports estimating that Antigua and Barbuda has lost more than a third of its GDP because of the travel crisis created by the pandemic, I encounter a palpably cheerful optimism on the island, which is far removed from what I am accustomed to encountering. We have to produce evidence of a negative Covid test on arrival, are frequently asked to proffer our wrists for temperature readings, and are reminded to wear masks (mandatory in most spaces) but the prevailing attitude is one of calm competence. Maybe sunshine does that for you.
“I bet you’re glad things are getting back to normal,” I say to the waiter who brings a seared tuna salad to my deckchair, as I gesture down the beach, on which around a third of the sun loungers are occupied.
He scrunches up his lips and cocks his head. “Yeah – it’s good,” he admits. “But it’s hard, too. It can be tough enough coming back to work after a weekend… this, after months and months of downtime… it takes a while to get back into it when you’ve been so relaxed.”
Downtime? Relaxed? What is this downtime and relaxation of which you speak? Have you not been rocking and keening in a corner like the rest of us? Apparently not. According to more than one islander I speak to, people simply tightened their belts and looked for other ways to sustain themselves, growing and sometimes selling produce, for example – or, in the case of Captain Shamel and his son Reef, who take us out on an Adventure Antigua boat for a day of coastal exploration, fishing. Additionally, as one local explains to me, up to four cannabis plants can legally be cultivated per household – “so we’re generally pretty chill.”
Chill, perhaps, but – at least in the case of Adventure Antigua – consummately professional. Captain Shamel takes us through a comprehensive safety briefing and reminds us in a matter-of-fact way that no rum punch will be served until the day’s swimming and snorkelling activities are over. It’s a far cry from the all-day circumnavigation I did with a different outfit a few years ago, when loud music drowned out any instructions and we were directed to the bar long before being shown the life jackets.
As we scud across the bright turquoise water, Reef circulates between groups, imparting information about various wildlife and landmarks with a quiet authority that belies his relative youth; when asked how he has come by such a breadth of knowledge, he tells us that respecting and listening to your elders is an important part of island culture. It was already apparent that Captain Shamel was proud of him; hearing this, it’s even easier to see why.
Arriving at Hell’s Gate, a rocky island to the northeast, we jump overboard and swim towards the jagged bridge that reaches from it to extend above the water. Some of the group choose to scramble up the rocks, climb through a cave and cross the narrow span; others bob blissfully below. Later in the day, we arrive at Bird Island and walk to its modest peak to observe the blowhole from which, when conditions allow, seawater blasts; we don’t get to witness this, but we do, thanks to a rustle and Reef’s sharp eyes, see an Antiguan Racer Snake, one of the rarest snakes in the world and only recently saved from near-extinction.
Equally exciting is a glimpse of a shy sea turtle on the nearby reef, after which the captain takes us snorkelling above towers, petals and folds of coral, pale behind the busy vibrancy of darting fish. Comfortable and well-equipped as our catamaran is, it is no match for some of the vessels moored at Nelson’s Dockyard, a Unesco World Heritage site within English Harbour.
That said, those few are no match for the superyachts I saw here on my last visit, which happened to coincide with December’s annual Antigua Charter Yacht Show. Then, it was abuzz with visitors of every nationality, and Seafood Friday – the weekly, buffet-style event put on by the Copper and Lumber restaurant – spilled out on to large tables set out on the lawn, alive with a communal feasting that seems, these days, unthinkable. Now, other than a family relaxing on board their yacht, we spot no one as we wander the grounds and tour the Dockyard Museum, which, as well as providing insights into the island’s naval history, offers glimpses of the work that has been done since 2010’s Hurricane Earl.
Covid may have put the kibosh on Seafood Fridays for the time being, but the island is coming back to life in more contained ways, including the legendary sunset parties at Shirley Heights, held each Thursday and Sunday. Worth a visit for the views even without the street food, steel bands and reggae music, the addition of these, plus the reassurance of knowing that a reservations system keeps a handle on numbers to maintain social distancing, makes the $10 (£7) entry fee a positive bargain.
For a more sedate vibe, head to Sheer Rocks, where tiered wooden pavilions are poised along a west-facing cliff face above the waves. Enjoy a cocktail from a daybed while the breeze tickles the white curtains, take a dip in the plunge pool, or sample dishes from the innovative menu – against a backdrop of ambient lounge music and sensational views.
Views are something I can’t get enough of when we move on to our next accommodation, Curtain Bluff Resort, located on the island’s south side. I admire the energy of players on the tennis courts, a pursuit for which the resort is renowned – indeed, I suspect that it inspired the setting for the beginning of Our Kind of Traitor, written by John le Carré, who died during my stay.
My hours are far less vigorous – a treatment at the spa, a coffee on my balcony, sleeping with my blinds flung open, waking to watch the sky pinken with dawn. Even the hours during which I need to work are pleasurable, albeit often disrupted by staring out to the horizon, or the sudden, urgent need to bolt out of my room and swim in that serene, warm, gin-clear water. Well, on the first day at least: after this, I discover that the beach is Wi-Fi enabled, and any Faustian-style industry/ indolence struggles melt away like the ice in the Aperol spritz that accompanies my sunscreen-sticky typing.
Working, while swimming, while topping up on Vitamin D… it’s a surfeit of riches that feels all the richer for the time during which it occurred. I had joked, before arriving, that Antigua’s much-touted “365 beaches: one for every day of the year” would need to become 1,073 for a year like 2020. As it turns out, just one is enough.
The details
The Inn at English Harbour (theinnantigua.com) offers half-board doubles from £450. For a full review and to book, see telegraph.co.uk/tt-innenglish
Curtain Bluff (curtainbluff.com) offers all-inclusive doubles from £570. To book, see telegraph.co.uk/tt-curtainbluff
Full-day boat trips with Adventure Antigua are priced from £85pp. See adventure antigua.com
Visit Antigua and Barbuda: visitantiguabarbuda.com
Overseas holidays are currently subject to restrictions.
