CASTRIES, St. Lucia (7 Feb 2009) — After night falls, terrible sounds fill the night air around the Jalousie Plantation. The peaceful wooded hills come alive with hoots, howls and blood-curdling screams as God knows what emerges to devour God knows who. Just what these assailants and victims might be is difficult to say, because Jalousie is all sweetness and light by day. The odd mannerly gekko scooches by, tropical squirrel-type creatures forage cutely here and there, while exotic birds proudly plume their feathers. But there's no clue as to who's causing all that racket when the lights go out. And frankly, I don't care, because life is pretty good for the plantation's human residents. A former Hilton resort that's recently fallen into local hands, Jalousie has a location that can't be beaten. The entrance off the bumpy road that winds north from the airport at Vieux Fort doesn't look all that promising, but as you make the steep descent towards the sea, a spectacular vista unfolds before you. Nestling in the Val des Pitons, Jalousie is a lush, 192-acre expanse of accommodation and rainforest flanked on both sides by St Lucia's most distinctive landmarks: the Gros and Petit Pitons. These overgrown, precipitous and forbidding-looking mini-mountains are extinct volcanoes, and they add to the Jalousie plantation's sense of wildness and exclusivity. There's only one way in here and one way out, so apart from the boatmen who chirpily hawk sightseeing trips along the beach, residents can be sure of having the resort's coastline and facilities to themselves. One of the unique selling points of Jalousie is that its accommodation is set out villa-style, with homely bungalows dotted up the hills and connected to the hotel proper by a squad of obliging minibus drivers. On the plus side, this means privacy and quiet -- apart from the nightly bloodbath in the woods. On the negative side, you can feel a bit cut off at times, and worried that you might be missing out on the action. However, as I mentioned, the minibus drivers are at your disposal, and a phone call will summon them in minutes. If you're the adventurous type, you can even walk. Most of the villas are five to 10 minutes on foot from the reception, restaurants, pool and beach, and strolling down to breakfast or dinner can be very pleasant. But the walk back is tougher, because the Jalousie hills are good and steep. When we arrive, the heavens have just opened and a torrent dances on our villa roof throughout our first day and night. We go to bed fretting that our time here will be like Ireland with the rain warmed up, but the plantation is transformed the next morning. Bright sunshine has turned Jalousie into a riot of colour, and St Lucia's metronomic weather -- 29 degrees and sunny -- remains constant for the rest of our stay. What the resort offers in abundance is that most precious of holiday requisites: peace. All you'll need for a blissful week or two in this idyllic spot is a pile of books and your appetite. The food is good and -- for an all-inclusive joint -- reasonably varied, with dinner alternating between two seafront restaurants and a slightly grander venue in the main building (which alienated me permanently by objecting to the fact that I was wearing flip-flops). There's very good snorkelling along the side of the Pitons, and adventurous walks and climbs higher up. Indeed, even if you never left the resort during your stay, you could still depart feeling relaxed and happy. But St Lucia is a beautiful and comparatively unspoilt island, and worth investigating. St Lucia is one of the Windward Islands and, like all of its Caribbean neighbours, was once a slave colony. The lush and fertile island was fought over bitterly by the British and the French, who each ruled it seven times. It was the British who ultimately prevailed, though the locals clung to Catholicism and French remains a big influence in the local patois. Independence finally arrived in 1979, and since then tourism has become an increasingly vital part of the island's economy -- more important, even, than the banana plantations that dominate the steamy interior. Just 44km long and 22.5km wide, St Lucia is a smallish, mountainous, tropical island bounded on the east by the Atlantic Ocean and on the west by the milder, warmer Caribbean sea. Like most of the bigger resorts, Jalousie is on the west side, mid-way between Vieux Fort airport and the capital, Castries. One way of getting around is by the ubiquitous minibus taxis, which take you on hair-raising rides at breakneck speed along roads that snake their way perilously through the interior, usually to the loud and unreassuring accompaniment of ragga music. Those of a nervous disposition would be better advised to see the island by boat. | | Free scuba diving anyone? One of the best things about a holiday in St. Lucia is that if you stay at one of three beautiful Sandals resorts, you don't have to pay to go scuba diving off the best dive boats in St. Lucia. We dutifully tore ourselves away from the hypnotic lure of the sunbed for a catamaran day trip up St Lucia's west coast. As we set sail, a malcontent Englishman complained to the captain about the loud, fast ragga music (there is no escape) that would apparently be the soundtrack of our trip. He was rewarded by 20 minutes of Enya and the eternal enmity of his fellow passengers. We stopped beyond the Pitons at Soufriere, a charming little town with a beautiful 18th-century church and square, and visited a working cocoa plantation and the famous sulphur springs, the hum of which makes the Ringsend sewage plant seem like a ballerina's bouquet. As we ploughed north, we passed beach after idyllic beach and paused to admire the splendour of Marigot Bay, where we were also allowed to dive in to the deep water for a swim. At Castries, we descended briefly but reluctantly, for I have unhappy memories of St Lucia's capital. The last time we were here, I managed to dive head-first into the side of a swimming pool, busting up my nose. I then spent a long afternoon in the emergency department of the Castries hospital, my only companion being a restless chicken. In the north west there are clusters of resorts, especially around Rodney Bay. Some of them are tasteful and unobtrusive, others worrying signs of a brashness that could easily ruin the island's rustic charm. Which makes you appreciate the low-key ambiance of Jalousie all the more. There are all sorts of activities on offer here, from scuba diving and aqua aerobics to kayaking, sailing, windsurfing, beach volleyball, tennis and, for light-sensitive bar flies, pool. I even got involved in an impromptu game of cricket between the guests and the staff. But more important than all of that is the unhurried sense of hush that pervades Jalousie, for this is one of those rare resorts that leaves you feeling well and truly rested. There are quibbles here and there. Some of the villas are a little too rustic for a five-star resort and in need of restoration (this is apparently underway). And like all resorts laid out this way, it could be accused of lacking a focal point. But Jalousie's ambiance and stunning location more than compensate for any of this, and make the place a little slice of paradise. Independent travel promotion
by Paul Whitington |
