8 minute read
I WALKED INTO A POSTCARD
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I STEPPED into
THE QUINTESSENTIAL ST LUCIA TRIP
by OTTOCINA RYAN | Photographs by KENNEDY WILLIAMS
a POSTCARD
I pull back the net canopy surrounding the bed and walk a few strides into the infinity pool, within the comfort of our hotel room. Resting on the ledge of the pool, I watch billows of smoke expand in the distance, where a volcano just erupted on St Vincent. How many times in your life do you see a volcano erupt? Yesterday, my friend Kennedy and I arrived at Jade Mountain Resort on St Lucia—think the sophistication and architecture of the International Space Station, dropped in the jungle. Upon arrival, our major domo (butler) leads us down a pathway, past koi ponds, across a private bridge, to a place I can barely describe. Jawdropping superlatives don't do it justice. We have stepped into a postcard and on it I want to write: this is it, I’m never coming home. Our room, or should I say retreat, is one of 24 open concept sanctuaries. In lieu of a fourth wall is an infinity pool and a view of the pitons (volcanic spires) so perfect even glass would be sacrilege. The visibility from the jacuzzi tub, shower, and toilet measure up as the space also lacks interior walls. We feel immersed in the beauty of the island without stepping foot outside the room. We are promptly presented with a water gun to squirt the birds that fly into the room searching for room service, and a brick phone with one number in it—our major domo. We dub it the burner phone, and use it throughout the trip to call for another passion fruit margarita, a shuttle to the beach, dinner reservations, and massage appointments at Kai en Ciel Spa. We make ourselves at home as the major domo prepares our itinerary. I quickly adopt a new hobby of shooting birds; Kennedy does pilates on the in-room exercise mat. So, how did the trip come about? With the recent surplus of time to mull over what you want to do in life, completing my scuba certification bubbled to the top of my list. Ideally in a tropical climate. With endless options, travel restrictions and entry requirements, I decided to leave the planning to the experts. My travel agent at Santa Barbara Travel Bureau suggested Jade Mountain in St Lucia—a renowned honeymoon destination yet perfect for an active girls’ trip. I wanted to scuba dive while Kennedy was drawn to the beach bar and immersive cacao offerings. Jade Mountain offers the best of both. Over the next week, the trip unfolds as so much more than a check on my bucket list. I start each morning at Anse Chastanet Beach, at the resort’s dive center. The blue, green, and red building is surrounded by palm trees and filled with equipment I’d studied in the online portion of the PADI (Professional Association of Diving Instructors) course. Carmen, the Adventure Sports Manager, puts me at ease, loans me gear and helps me get situated. We make a schedule for completing the five confined water dives and four open water dives required for the certification. Over the next week I learn everything from how to identify fish to how to respond calmly in worst case scenarios, like
Irunning out of air. I had originally come to St Lucia for the flourishing reefs and warm water, but that is soon secondary to the thorough, patient, and enthusiastic instruction I get from Carmen. Our dives amaze me. We see glistening opalescent parrot fish, glowing purple sponges, coral swaying in the current, crabs hiding in crevices of reefs, barracudas, and eels with orange spots. Carmen unfolds a chart of fish from her pocket and identifies the ones we see. A school of hundreds of creole wrasse fish swirls around us. “There’s a whole world under the surface and every minute is a surprise,” she says once we ascend. The last dive of the course, we’re on the dive boat with a few groups, headed to a site called Jalousie. Everyone is pumped for the dive, joking around and grazing on platters of cookies and fruit. The sun illuminates the water and 60 feet deep we are mesmerized by a gathering of lionfish, only to look the other way to a green turtle launching off the reef. Upon completing the course, the entire boat cheers. One diver kids, “Welcome to the expensive club; now you have to buy all the gear.” I feel accomplished; it’s been a while since I’ve had a tangible achievement. It seems like lockdown is a distant memory and forward progress is attainable again. On the way back to shore a pod of dolphins springs out of the water, trailed by a flying fish gliding alongside the boat, a creature I had been half convinced was mythological. I return to our sanctuary, ready to relax. Kennedy has a room service fruit plate waiting for me and tells me about her morning—a waterfall hike with mud baths, followed by a cacao tasting and chocolate bar making
class. We spend the afternoon, as all afternoons of the trip, lounging on the beach, ordering ceviche with plantain chips on repeat. We’re convinced the hotel must think our bill is a mistake as ceviche comprises half of it. Thank goodness SB Travel Bureau crafted an all-inclusive package for us.
Come evening, we board a sunset sail with Captain Mervin at the helm. He points the 37’ sailboat towards the emerald cliffs in the distance. A warm breeze fills the sails and the first mate serves us hors d'oeuvres and locally brewed Piton beers. The couple joining us delivers a steady supply of raunchy jokes, keeping us laughing until the pink sunset fades and we disembark.
We conclude the day at Jade Mountain Restaurant, on the top level of the hotel. Panoramic views reveal the pitons silhouetted against the starry sky. The dinner menu changes nightly to reflect fresh catches and harvests. Our entrees are abundant with garden vegetables, artfully interwoven with local seafood. The full page of chocolate options on the dessert menu, however, is a constant. Kennedy makes her way down the chocolate menu, while the mango baked Alaska becomes my go-to.
Our appreciation for the dishes is enhanced when we visit Emerald Farm, which supplies Jade Mountain’s restaurants. We hop out of the car and the Plantation Manager, Damian, is walking up the hill carrying a couple papayas and branches of curry leaves he just harvested. He cheerfully introduces himself and Chef Valerio, who is loading up his Jeep with fresh vegetables to take back to the hotel restaurants. Chef explains that 70% of the produce used by Jade Mountain, and adjoining parent property Anse Chastanet, grows in this garden. From all of the cacao, to the edible petals atop our daily ceviche. We chat about fermented foods and their beer production for a few minutes, then Chef is off and insists that Damian show us his favorite cherry tree. Damian leads us into the farm, which resembles a well-manicured jungle. Walking through rows of herbs, microgreens, lettuce, and pineapples segues into ducking beneath ginormous mango trees and cacao trees draped in vanilla vines. He excitedly plucks leaf after leaf for us to smell—citrus bay leaves, tulsi basil, anise. He’s more ecstatic about the process of extracting cinnamon from a cinnamon tree than I’ve seen people about their firstborn. Through the
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overgrowth I spot a beekeeper walking towards us. He hands a chunk of honeycomb to Damian who slices off pieces for me and Kennedy. The honey oozes down my fingers and as we walk through the garden I notice everyone is just as intrigued by their messy treat.
The only day diving isn’t on the itinerary, I wake up slowly to soft morning light and a symphony of birds. We cancel the 6:30 a.m. piton hike (I’m playing by Kennedy’s rules) and order room service. Enjoying breakfast perched on the ledge of the pool makes the vegan banana brûlée pancakes that much sweeter.
A day of wandering Anse Chastanet’s jungle and the neighboring beach concludes with a jazz cruise. Rum punch and champagne flow freely. We chat with friends we’ve made over the course of the trip, facilitated by the intimate property. We motor past the town of Soufriere; its pastel colonial architecture in shades of pink, yellow, and blue nestled into the jungle is simultaneously majestic and ramshackle. The sun sets below the pristine water, ruffled only by a local speed boat.
When it’s time to head to the airport, we gather the bikinis drip drying from every bar in the bathroom, pack up, and say goodbye to our major domo.
I came to check a box, a means to an end. Yet it was an unforgettable experience. Diving. Caribbean culture. Local cuisine. I’m happy I trusted the experts at SB Travel Bureau. I’m leaving with a new skill to take with me anywhere in the world, but with the friendly people, flavorful food, and lush setting, let’s be real—I’ll be returning to Jade Mountain on St Lucia. After all, I will never wake up to a better view. *
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