There’s something kind of thrilling going to an island off-season, off radar. Gone are the crowds, the lines snaking around the hottest restaurants, the cars crawling into town. There was no traffic, no rush to find a hidden beach, no clamour to get anywhere.

True, we didn’t sunbathe, swim or sail. But we were busy. On the first day we bike rode along some of the island’s 35 miles of bike paths, past roads with suggestive names like Old Quidnet Milk Route or Burnt Swamp Lane. The paths were so empty that one woman waved us down to ask if she could take our photo. She worked for a local realtor and was writing a blog about biking on the island but could find no bikers. Until we came peddling along…

When we got back to our hotel-  the old world, charming  Wauwinet 

That night we went into town and ate one of the best meals that I’ve had in ages at Nautilus.

The concierge at the Wauwinet told us she doesn’t even bother trying to get guests reservations at Nautilus during the peak summer months. People line up at noon to book a table a month away. But in October, it’s a different story. The casual restaurant with its popular bar scene was packed and buzzy on Friday night. We were seated  within half an hour with no reservation.

The tempura east coast oyster tacos, crispy marinated calamari and grilled lamb chops were heavenly.

Chef Liam Mackey is one to watch…

As we were paying we asked our waiter if there was anywhere to dance on the island.

Sure, go to the Chicken Box. It’s the only place on the island.

So we did.

And we danced alongside lots of locals to an enthusiastic band called Buckle and Shake. Again, no line, a $10 cover fee,  and all ages bogeying on the spacious dance floor, while others played pool in the back.

The next morning it was raining. We headed to the Whaling Museum. There we listened to a dramatic story teller recount the tragedy of the Essex, a sea voyage so harrowing and rich in detail, including cannibalism, that the story inspired Herman Melville to write Moby Dick.

When the skies cleared we grabbed a taxi and headed to remote and lovely Sconset on the eastern part of the island. We hiked about 6 miles starting in Sconset, past the Sankaty  lighthouse,

past deserted beach houses – some in mint condition, others less so…

and then down onto the beach itself… Apart from a flock of seagulls and a single seal that slithered by, we were alone.

Nantucket has 82 miles of coastline. We have 80 left for our next visit. About half of Nantucket’s 30,000 acres are under conservation. Take a drive down Milestone Road if you want to see Nantucket’s version of the Serengeti.

It was a short trip, a direct 45 minute Jet Blue flight from JFK. We were gone for 48 hours, but it felt like a week.

PS. Thank you Anne Hardy for all your Nantucket tips. You were absolutely right when you texted:

Wauwinet is going to be lovely and compelling and hard  to leave…  Sconset is delightful!

The Wauwinet closes for the season this Sunday (Oct 28) and reopens April 18th.

See you there.

October, 2018

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Mommy, why is my panini taking so long?

My youngest is 18, but when Julia gets hungry, an uncomfortable, alien feeling for her, she reverts to her grumpy four- year-old self.

Julia, it always takes this long, comforts her older, wiser sister Kate.

The three of us (son Thomas is stuck in NYC working) are at a shoebox size Italian deli called Kiki é Mo’s on the Caribbean island of St Barth’s, a deli that we have been to countless times over the years. The service has always been wishful thinking, the paninis forever over-priced, and yet, we always come back. Why?

Nostalgia is a dangerous thing. I could easily get buried alive in memories. It’s a slippery slope.

This Christmas I had to stop myself from telling my boyfriend Stretch all about how great St Barth’s used to be.

See over there? I point out the car window to a distant corner of the airport runway, “that used to be where the landing strip was with one bench under a tree for people to sit on.

I quickly point again.

See that chic looking restaurant? That was where this hip beach shack called Chez Francine was. Chalkboard menus, fantastic lobster, everyone just wore bathing suits to lunch. The island was soooo different.”

We drive a bit further past the village of St Jean of Nikki Beach fame, way too nouveau for me. I’m in full-throttle flashback to the disco eighties.

See that house on the point, up there, that was Autour du Rocher, the only nightclub, if you could call it that, really just a deck with music. So fun!

I glance at Stretch. Stretch is quiet. I am quiet.

That’s when I made my NY’s Resolution. This year, 2017, is all about looking forward, embracing change, going for it.

So on that note – here are some new spots I like in St Barth’s now. Reader beware, like Chez Francine (I’m not reminiscing here, just giving you a reference point), the places I like are chilled, low-key, discreet.

Top on my list is new hotel Villa Marie in Colombier, the fifth pearl in Jocelyne and Jean-Louis Sibuet’s string of charming French hotels. The décor is warm and inviting, blending French Colonial with ethnic Caribbean with a dash of Parisian joie de vivre. The 18-bungalow hotel is decorated with mahogany fans, bamboo egg chairs, vintage rattan furniture, antiques, sea shells

and jazzy pineapple-themed cushions,

plus lush trees and plants galore and some resident parrots by the pool. This is a hideaway hotel, ideal for couples – Julia and me, trés romantique!

For families with young children I like Le Bartholémey over in Grand Cul de Sac with its enticing pool by the sea, terrace restaurant for lunch and holistic spa boasting an eco-friendly nail bar. How forward-looking is that?! We saw lots of families with young children running around so this spot is best-suited for those in that toddler-loving/surviving mind-set.

Just down the beach is toe-in-the-sand, yummy lunch spot La Gloriette (a bit like Chez Francine in a facing-forward 2017 kind of way).

For those who don’t want to rent a villa or stay in one of the swankier, pricier hotels on the island, the minimal, stylish Emeraud Plage on St Jean beach offers a peaceful, pretty, convenient option.

Stroll down the beach and enjoy lunch at La Plage with its new chef, David Sendron. Or check out Le Papillon Ivre, a wine bar in St Jean where the locals like to hang. Pizza lovers should head to Gustavia for a slice at  L’Isoletta.

Bon Appetit and Bonne Année!

January, 2017

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Some background – my three kids and I, plus another family of five were spending New Year’s week in Nicaragua, by way of Florida. We had spent the first night in clicking, clacking Miami, where everything is white and bright and loud.  We then flew the two and half hours from the city of DJ’s and roller blades to peaceful, lush, undeveloped Nicaragua. Known as “the land of lakes and volcanoes”, Nicaragua is nestled between the Pacific and Caribbean waters to the west and east and Honduras and Costa Rica to the north and south.

We landed at dusk and traveled two hours on a new road passing everything from old yellow school buses that serve as regular buses to horse-drawn carriages to a few wandering bulls. (Note to urban dwellers – Nicaragua is teaming with wild life. I’m not talking about some stray bruisers, but jaguars, boa constrictors, sting rays and more  (all of which feature later).

We stayed at the pristine  Mukul Resort on Nicaragua’s Emerald Coast, the brainchild of Don Carlos Pellas, patriarch of Nicaragua’s richest family. Pellas wants Nicaragua to take a leaf from Costa Rica’s tourist success story and is hoping that the four-year-old Mukul will spur things on. The luxury boutique hotel and spa in Guacalito de la Isla boasts four miles of white-sand beach and rugged coastline, seven and a half miles of nature trails,  a groomed 18 hole golf course (tee time)

and a heavenly spa where privacy and space reign.  The staff seem genuinely happy in their jobs. Nothing was ever too much trouble.

The resort is near two popular surfing beaches – El Gigante and San Juan del Sur. I’m not going to lie- the Insta opportunities – me as newbie on surf board, then me as a backflipping prodigy on surf board – did cross my mind.

But turf before surf. Day One I arrive early at reception for the 9am Nature Walk. I want to get the lay of the land having arrived at the hotel in the dark the night before.  Cap, sun block, insect spray, tick, tick, tick. I look around for the group. Turns out, I am the group. Everyone else is asleep. Or not into nature. Or walking. My guide Juan Carlos shows me some dramatic coastline, and I give him some helpful photography tips.

Stand back Juan Carlos. No, further.

My group said they weren’t ready to hit the waves until their base tan was just right. Did I want them to burn?

I did convince them to accompany me to Granada, a colourful colonial town an hour and a half away. They were pretty  excited for that.

I told them that there are some great churches and a pretty main square to explore. They grumbled a bit (nothing new there), something about feeling caged in.

Then we made a gelato pit stop …

and everyone cheered up…

Granada can be scorching so avoid doing what we did: Sight-seeing in the middle of the day.

Back at the hacienda, I was starting to fret.  It seemed everyone but us was hitting the waves. (I don’t drink and drive or surf in solitude) The hotel beach below.

My group wanted to chill just a bit longer so I distracted myself at the Mukul Spa, which is very distracting and I highly recommend it. I especially liked  the Yamuna Experience led by therapist Yamuna who was trained in India and has a real gift. He blends massage, meditation and  Eastern therapies. His wise advice is on target and  life-changing.

My tranquil state with Yamuna was disturbed when a fellow guest told us  about getting stung by a sting ray that morning. Then my son saw a fat snake outside his bohio. Then we heard about the jaguars who are very shy. (It only takes one outgoing jaguar …) Suddenly, I felt like I was on safari. To the spa I dashed. Yamuna, where are you??

The End

January, 2016

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Yes, Shelter Island is surrounded by water and there is no convenient connecting bridge, but it only takes about five minutes to cross from either Greenport to the north or North Haven to the south. North Haven is next door to touristy Sag Harbour which we cycled to for lunch. Sag Harbour is that close. Shelter Island is as serene and peaceful as the Hamptons is not.

About a third of the island is covered by the Mashomack Preserve, and the rest of the island is full of trees, starry skies and the occasional Osprey.

Here’s a beach we went to at lunchtime on one of the busiest American holiday weekends. I rest my case.

This is an island where people go to the post office to pick up their mail, an island without traffic lights, an island without traffic. Shelter Island is about 27 square miles with under 3,000 full-time residents, many of whom can date their ancestors here back to 1776. The island has a small-town, old-fashioned feel.

That either floats your kayak or it doesn’t.

Just because Shelter Island lacks the flash and splash of the Hamptons doesn’t mean that it’s dull. I went with my boyfriend Ken who is a planner with a capital P.

We went sailing, kayaking, biking. We cycled past farmers’ markets, Victorian houses and minimalist barns.

We squeezed in a few excellent pilates classes.

But I drew the line at paddle boarding. We listened to live jazz at the picturesque Ram’s Head Inn one night.

We even gave Andre Balazs’ hip Sunset Beach a whirl for dinner. It was fun, but I preferred it at breakfast. The eggs were delicious, and the crowds were asleep.

Our favourite dinner spot was the popular Vine Street Cafe. Don’t miss the heirloom tomatoes if they’re in season.

We stayed at the charming Chequit, the  newly  re-opened, 37-room boutique hotel, which first opened in 1872. During its heyday in the fifties the centrally-located Chequit is rumoured to have hosted Frank Sinatra, JFK and Miss Monroe amongst others.

No such celebrities spotted anywhere this time, unless you include Marie of the Marie Eiffel lifestyle brand, a real rags to riches local story. Marie came to Shelter Island ten years ago after a debilitating car accident requiring 13 operations left her penniless and addicted to painkillers. She went cold turkey, opened a tiny consignment shop. A designer leant her clothes to sell, Marie borrowed hangers from a dry cleaner and hung the clothes on nails on the wall. Racks were too pricey. Business was initially slow save for one kind customer who came in every Sunday night and  asked,

How’s business?

and bought enough to keep Marie going for another week. That lasted two years. Eventually, Marie got a bank loan, and now owns three shops on the island and one on Sag Harbour. As she says,

The rest is history”.

Marie works 13 hour days, seven days a week and has the biggest smile on the island.

After four action-packed, exhilerating days it was time to wave goodbye to Shelter Island and brave that long ferry ride back to another world.

July, 2015

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to the eye-catching surprises along the way, we were constantly entertained.

Here is Kate making a local friend in Bangkok.

And Elias Vere Nicoll hamming it up with a Chinese tourist in Siem Reap, Cambodia.

Travel takes you out of your world and wham bam lands you in another whether you like it or not. You meet people you’d normally never meet. See things you’d never see. And come home with a mind expanded that only firsthand experience can do.

My ideal: The stranger the better as long as there’s good coffee in the morning. Thailand delivers on the spicy food and gorgeous beaches,

but I warmed more to the less touristy Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam – especially southern Vietnam where the locals were incredibly warm. This happy Vietnamese couple have been together for about 60 years.

Vietnamese chef Tran Thanh Duc below with Cristina Vere Nicoll gave us a shopping and cooking lesson in Hoi An that I can only describe as utterly terrific and delicious. He’s going places.

Travel can also bring you closer to the people you’re with, shared experiences and all that. Melanie Vere Nicoll and me in Luang Prabang, Laos.

We traveled with Trufflepig, a Toronto-based travel group that I highly recommend. All you really need is good people, an open mind and the ability to laugh when things don’t go according to plan (which is a travel guaranty). 

I’ll be posting more on our life-altering trip in the coming weeks.

January, 2015

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