Sara Macefield's Impressions of World Travel Market 2011

Times may be tough but, as always, the Caribbean Village shrugged off the industry’s woes with its irrepressible partying spirit that injected colour and glamour into this year’s World Travel Market. However, there was no disguising the signs of the global economic squeeze – and resentment among some exhibitors at the high cost of exhibiting at ExCeL. St Lucia had opted for a smaller stand than previously while, for the first time I can remember, Sandals didn’t take a stand at all, preferring to base itself with various tourist boards.

But, despite this, the village not only retained its optimism in the face of the increasing APD burden, but came out fighting with news of continuing investment and new developments determined to keep the Caribbean at the forefront of travellers’ minds. Work has already started to expand Antigua’s VC Bird International Airport, one of the region’s main hubs, while St Kitts is forging ahead with some major tourism and residential developments.

It was encouraging to see new badly-needed life being injected into Tobago’s hotel scene with the former Tobago Hilton becoming the Magdalena Grand and government initiatives to encourage further hotel developments on the island. But, to my mind, it was left to Sandals – one of the region’s most innovative companies – to come up with the most exciting news; that work will finally start next April on the Caribbean’s first over-water villas. This is a development bound to prompt much interest and promotion which should hopefully help to draw attention to the region as a whole.

Having visited the Caribbean on cruise ships this year, stopping in the Bahamas, Grand Cayman and Jamaica and, more recently, staying on Barbados and going off-the-beaten track in the Dominican Republic, the beauty and culture of the Caribbean continually leaves me entranced. And it’s this that makes me optimistic for the future.

The Caribbean has much that rival destinations can only dream of and with new developments and extra products coming on-stream, it has plenty to shout about. As a Caribbean specialist writer, there are plenty of stories I am hoping to tell through Definitive Caribbean. With its unparalleled breadth and depth of knowledge, the relaunch of this website promises to strengthen Definitive Caribbean’s position as an informed and independent authority – and most importantly, one that users can trust.

Families at Cotton Bay Village in St Lucia

Jane Anderson met with their Director of Marketing, Michael Bryant, at World Travel Market 2010...here’s what she found out...

Cotton Bay Village likes to promote itself as ‘life in full colour’. Take your family here for a week and you’ll certainly feel the rosy hue of a luxury hotel that really understands what families need for a successful holiday.

For starters, this small property in the north of St Lucia has a great range of two, three and four-bedroom villas with designer kitchens, en suite bedrooms throughout with flat screen TV’s, private pools and gardens, all perfect for families or even two families holidaying together, which works out very economically. Villas come in an eclectic range of styles from colonial to South Beach and can be booked self-catering, á la carte or half-board. There’s great attention to detail as re-visiting families find a photograph of themselves in a frame in the entrance hall.

But it’s not just about accommodation. Cotton Bay Village has taken the trouble to devise father and son programmes such as playing cricket with the locals, deep-sea fishing or diving, whilst mothers and daughters can head to Heaven spa for some quality girl time. All programmes are tailormade to family requirements.

For active families there are two good stables next door to the hotel and it’s possible to ride along the sand and take the horses into the sea. Quite a magical experience - especially for children! Families with older kids might like to try kite surfing on the beach. Three-hour tuition sessions cost US$300 to get you started. There’s also an 18-hole championship golf course right behind the hotel. Whale and dolphin watching or zip line adventures can also be arranged.

The Hummingbird Kids Club offers mums and dads a little freedom. The Hummingbird Crèche takes babies as young as six months, up to the age of three years. Staffed by Montessori trained nannies, parents can rest assured their little ones are in good hands. The crèche is free of charge for up to two hours daily. Parents are also entitled to one free night’s babysitting during their stay. If they want extra one-on-one assistance, a nanny can be hired for US$20/hour.

The Hummingbird Club caters for children from four to eight years and is open daily for a varied activities programme with kite flying outings and picnics a speciality. Joanna, one of the Hummingbird carers takes youngsters on beach-combing expeditions where kids return laden with beautiful shells and driftwood to transform into collages and the like. There’s also a cinema room with beanbags for times when kids need a rest out of the sun, along with computers, a Wii and a ‘dirty room’ for painting.

A great innovation is ‘Bring the Baby not the Baggage’ which allows parents to pre-order practically anything they need for their baby such as Johnson’s baby products, cots, highchairs, Pampers nappies and waterwings. Mums no longer need sacrifice that extra pair of shoes for baby’s paraphernalia and this also helps massively with current luggage restrictions imposed by airlines.

Carseats and babyseats are all ready and waiting when the hotel car picks families up from Hewanorra Airport and DVD players with videos of your choice entertain little ones on the one and a half hour drive north.

When it comes to fussy eaters, the Beach Club 1461 caters for most tastes. Think oversized armchairs on the sand and lots of kiddie favourites on menu such as fresh pasta and gourmet fish fingers. Children Under-12 eat free from the 1461 children’s menu every day and under fives are not charged an all-inclusive supplement when a family elects to go all-inclusive.

Bruschetta is a lovely deli open daily, which sells fresh produce from bread and fruits to coffee and wine. Sandwiches and pastries are made fresh on the premises and can be home delivered. There’s also a local supermarket close by, but if you don’t feel like lifting a finger, you can pre-order with concierge.

Butler service is offered, but you can have as much or as little done for you as you like from unpacking your luggage to private dining – a real treat for parents. Life in Technicolor I’d say!

For more general information about the hotel please see Definitive Caribbean’s Review of Cotton Bay Village.

Hurricane Tomas, a unique insight from Brigitte Maronie at Villa Caribbean Dream

Here we publish an email from one of our friends on St Lucia, Brigitte Maronie, owner of Villa Caribbean Dream - 'a fascinating insight illustrating how everyone was caught out by Tomas - and the chaos it caused', Sara Macefield, travel journalist.


For those of you who did not know:

Hurricane "Tomas" hit us very hard on Saturday October 31st. It was very stressful, because we were completely unprepared. On Friday it was said that it would be a tropical storm and it would be heading out to the open Atlantic. But then in no time it suddenly came straight toward us and changed into a hurricane category 1 and later category 2. The eye passed through St Lucia and St Vincent with a wind speed of 150 km/h but the forward speed was only 10 km/h. That is why it took sooooo long (24 hrs.). It was pouring down rain all this time and everywhere was flooded. I was very stressed out and completely exhausted afterwards. We did not have electricity for 4 days and everything in my fridges and freezer was spoilt! Our telephone lines were not working and after 4 days we could use cell phones, but the internet only came back after 6 days.

Last Friday I had to work my German airline CONDOR - not expecting any arrivals. But they still brought 65 passengers who did not know what had happened here!! More stress again for me, because most of the hotels were closed and the roads were not accessible between Vieux-Fort and Castries and also Vieux-Fort to Soufriere. A lot of bridges were broken. So we had to organize little aircrafts for those people in the night and shuttle most of them to the north, where the damage was not so great. Anyway, we tried to handle it the best we could.

The island is devastated - especially the area around Soufriere. We have NO water in most areas up to now. But people are working feverishly to get things back to normal. We get quite a lot of aid from overseas and also have a lot of international volunteers helping with bringing in goods and fresh water as well as helping with the clean up. The roads are in a deplorable state, but also that is tackled speedily and hopefully things are running much more smoothly by next week. The country will be receiving tourists from November 12th again. Hopefully we have a good high season!!! We need it!

Anyway, just for you to know... I am ok, Noelita and Louis as well as To-To and Lu-Lu are also fine. Our house had only little damage (thanks God!!), but the garden looked like a mine field! We are still cleaning up and do repair works. My next guests will be arriving on November 16th. Until then everything hopefully will be alright.

My heart goes out to the relatives of people who lost their lives and to them who lost all their belongings! It was a very frightening experience for me after living here 31 years and I never had seen something like this. Thanks god, we are still alive. All my friends are ok too. It could have been worse.

I now look forward to welcoming new guests for the high season and hope that we do not get any bad weather within the next few weeks again. It would be great to see some of you again soon too!!! (Editor's note - We believe the best way to support Brigitte and her fellow islanders is to book a holiday now! Please see a review of her property - Villa Caribbean Dream!)

P.S. If you would like to look at some videos check on Youtube. There are lots. Here's a link to one by Mr Arnold Henry - The Aftermath of Hurricane Tomas in St Lucia:




Love to you all .... and let's stay in touch!

Very sunny greetings from St.Lucia!

Brigitte

Hurricane Tomas - St Lucia and Haiti Fight On...

It’s the time of year when the Caribbean islands breathe a collective sigh of relief as the hurricane season draws to a close. But this year, it has come back to bite them with devastating results.

Tomas emerged with little warning on the cusp of Halloween to rampage through the Caribbean, causing death and destruction just as islanders started to relax. However, what few outsiders will appreciate is that most islands will have been left unscathed as Tomas concentrated its force on those in its path – namely St Lucia and Haiti. Islands on the periphery of the storm course – notably Barbados, Jamaica and Cuba - also felt its affects, but thankfully to a lesser extent.

Even on St Lucia, it was a trail of two halves with the northern part of the island taking less of a battering while the southern section – around Soufriere – took the full force of the hurricane winds and lashing rain, with roads and houses swept away in the ensuing landslides. Tomas has been declared the worst storm in the island’s history, destroying its lucrative banana crop, and putting the country’s main dam, which supplies the population with fresh water, out of action. Properties such as Ladera have temporarily closed and the race is on to mop up and get back to normal in time for the peak Christmas/New Year holiday season.

As for Haiti – how much more can this poverty-stricken nation take? Earthquakes, cholera and now Tomas but, and you have to take comfort from this glimmer of hope, it could have been so much worse. Tomas is the sort of natural disaster that spares no-one in its path and West Indians are resigned to the fact that such devastation is the price they pay for living in one of the most beautiful corners of the world.

Yet few communities are more adept at recovering from such setbacks. The clear-up operation begins instantly, swinging into action and often resulting in the destinations emerging phoenix-like with a new lease of life.

You only have to look at Grenada, Jamaica and Antigua and others which have emerged refreshed and reinvigorated after such tumultuous events. In these circumstances, many in the tourism industry turn adversity to their advantage by taking the opportunity to upgrade and renew. And it’s with this in mind that those worst affected by Tomas can look ahead and realise that no matter how tough things seem, the strength of the Caribbean islands and their people will shine through.

*Anyone wishing to donate to the ongoing relief effort in Haiti should go to www.redcross.org.uk

Farewell to Lord Glenconner by Stephen Thorpe

The Caribbean lost one of its great characters last week. Not a sportsman, statesman, comedian nor entertainer, but someone who defied formal categorisation and remained rather indefinable - an eccentric indubitably, and a true Brit born not just of the silver spoon but with the whole tea set intact. Yes, Colin Tennant, aka Lord Glenconner was one on his own for sure, the last of a breed in the West Indies who bestrode Mustique, south west St Lucia and a few other places besides for nigh on half a century. In 1959 he acquired that Grenadine backwater, a scrub covered, mosquito ridden Mustique for a song, then spent years and half a fortune developing its infrastructure having given Princess Margaret a few prime acres for her wedding present.

After Royalty, the new aristocracy followed - rock stars, media moguls and socialites, in search of escape and hedonism alike which Colin was more than happy to facilitate over the next twenty years. After various management and financial wrangles he decamped to another gilded piece of paradise between the Pitons in St Lucia, importing Bupa, a pet elephant, for company. More trouble ensued over land development and Colin eventually settled for a relatively quiet life running his small estate centred on the Bang bar and latterly selling off plots of subdivided land. I first became familiar with him in Barbados in the 1970’s through his son Charlie who enjoyed bejewelled teenage years in Mustique before sadly dying young; family calamity became a theme but Colin somehow maintained a stiff upper lip throughout.

His trademark outfit of white cotton pants, white cotton shirt and hat never seemingly changed, and I can truthfully aver that I never saw him in anything else throughout our acquaintance. Sometimes he’d misplace the hat and get cross. He was a patriarch, with a loyal staff and following in rural St Lucia and prone to the occasional tantrum when things went awry. Once, in some down at heel shop in Soufriere, he overheard me mention I had to go to Castries the next day and kindly offered a lift (this in the days before a properly surfaced west coast road existed); he collected me in the morning in a battered jeep and we set off on a journey scheduled to take two hours. It lasted eight. At every wayside halt, for every fruit seller, fisherman or higgler in Anse La Raye or Canaries he had a friendly word, or they for him. Chats turned into discussions, long ones; at one stage, just as I thought we were getting somewhere, he drove into a deep drainage gully, almost writing off the vehicle. Four Rastas hauled us out, and we repaired to a rum shop to thank them. The Laird of Lucia I called him, which he quite liked.

Another time I found myself in some smart hostelry, which was unusual in itself, when suddenly Princess Margaret walked in unannounced, clutching her customary bottle of Famous Grouse (half empty as I recall), followed close behind by Colin and his wife Lady Anne, the Princess’s Lady in Waiting. We were introduced, and chatted briefly. A while later I felt a light touch on my forearm. It was Colin, whispering over my shoulder: “Stephen, Her Royal Highness has requested you accompany us to supper”. Lawd God Almighty, I was dumbstruck for a moment. What could a poor boy do? I’d never had the Royal Command before (then or since), me dear ol’ monarchist Mum back in Rochdale would have been proud. As a vehemently (dis)loyal subject of the Crown, I suppose I had no choice, and dutifully accepted. Besides, I was bloody hungry. Later in a memorable evening Colin lifted an eyebrow disdainfully when I failed to rise as Marj briefly excused herself from the table for a fag. As I told him later - I wasn’t going anywhere, so why bother getting up. He despaired.

Only last Christmas, he learnt that a London psychotherapist Joshua Bowler was his illegitimate son from more than fifty years ago by Henrietta Moraes and, true to form, gladly accepted him into the family fold. I bumped into Colin a year ago in late afternoon on an isolated beach at unfashionable Laborie on St Lucia’s south coast. He was taking his evening stroll miles from home, alone in his thoughts at 83, a ghostly figure in the gloaming, in the twilight of a life well spent. We shared a pot of tea. He seemed tired, something in his pale blue eyes said this would be the last time I’d see him. And it was. Many will miss him.

Accents Galore - An Amusing Look At Caribbean Language

It’s one of those quiet pleasures of travelling the Caribbean. To hear, in the speech of West Indians, sounds that you are sure originate elsewhere. Well, they might, anyway. Accents are notoriously difficult to pin down. As soon as you think you have caught one within the lovely lilt of West Indian, it evaporates into other sounds. The harder you try the more they seem to get away from you.

It’s only English accents I am referring to, as they are the ones I know. I believe that old Breton can be heard in the French spoken by the natives of St Barths and no doubt regional traces can be heard in the creoles of the Spanish and Dutch islands too. And there must be affects from all the African languages that newly arrived slaves would have spoken.

They say that Shakespearean English is probably more similar to the English spoken in Harlem than to that of current day England. And on a good day I’m certain you can hear Irish in the speech of Montserratians. In fact it’s not that illogical there, in the Caribbean’s ‘Emerald Isle’. Montserrat was known as a place friendly to English-speaking Catholics in the mid 1600s and the telephone book is full of names such as Ryan, Farrel and Daly. But then the same thing happens in Anguilla. Supposedly as a result of a shipwreck. You can be standing on a beach, rum punch in hand - it helps in this endeavour, I suspect - talking to a man and you’ll find he addresses you in, well… Oirish. It’s almost Caribbean craic.

If it is mostly befuddling – Dominica and St Lucia have obvious French tinges - Trinidad has a slightly comic edge. People swear you can hear Welsh laced into Trini speech. But consider this. It’s a fact that people have trouble with a Welsh accent, and all too often they slip into an Indian/Pakistani accent by mistake. With so many Trinis from the Indian subcontinent, who knows which is which.

It has been said for years that Bajan speech is derived from West Country English. And there is a certain logic to this too. In the mid seventeenth century, when Barbados was being populated by the English, Bristol was the most important port in the West of England (Liverpool had not yet come into its own). And Judge Jeffreys had a part to play too, after the Pitchfork Rebellion in 1685 and his Bloody Assizes, in which many West Countrymen were deported. It seems a long time ago, but, sit on a bus in Bridgetown, and close your eyes and...fleetingly...you might almost be in Bath or Okehampton.

It hit home most for a friend of mine when she was visiting Harrison’s Cave, where she heard the guide say – ‘This here is a stalagtoite. And this, is a stalagmoite….’ She could, she decided, have been in Cheddar Gorge.

The Pitons By Chopper - A St Lucia Fly By

Helicopter travel is not that regular in the Caribbean, but it does happen. Choppers are used for sightseeing sometimes and of course they are useful for getting to remote places quickly, high into the mountains, for instance.

My only helicopter trip in the Caribbean was courtesy of LeSport in St Lucia, when as part of a BBC team I was flown from the international airport in the south to the north of the island, the location of the hotel. It saved a long journey by road and of course it is fun to do. And there was one exceptional moment during the trip. I expect the pilots love doing it, but as a passenger it was stomach-lurching as it was impressive and unforgettable.

Helicopters are always fun to travel in. We were sent forward by the hostess to the machine which was idling on the tarmac, dipping our heads as we came under the rotors. I blagged my way to the front seat next to the pilot and grabbed the headphones. The pilot talked briefly to the control tower and then tensed as he deliberately pressed the footplate and held onto his gear stick. The rotors ground into the air, the cage of the airframe shuddering, whining and screaming a hundred different mechanical complaints.

We lifted gradually and at thirty feet the pilot put the nose down and drove us forwards. His eyes were on the horizon, but I watched the ground pass away beneath us - tarmac, grass, perimeter fence, cattle, a rivulet, individual trees dotted in a plain, a village of red roofs along a serpentine valley, a car making its way along a half hidden road five hundred feet below us. And then the interminable green, with barely a visible human imprint, just an occasional plot cut into the steep hillsides. Otherwise it was simply the canopy, like a green blanket covering the steep valleys and clefts that ran across our path.

We climbed, steadily, keeping pace with the rising ground - six, eight hundred feet, a thousand, twelve hundred. The Gros Piton rose on our left, a massive lump. I can’t remember at what point the tip of the Petit Piton appeared, but gradually it imposed itself on the surroundings, a spike of stone soaring out of the greenery. We chugged on and gradually up, maintaining a position a couple of hundred feet above the canopy, the green sea of the forest.

I guessed what was coming, but there is nothing to prepare you for the gut-wrenching, utterly boggling moment when it happens. Suddenly we cleared the lip of the land. It was like a fairground ride. The carpet of green beneath us fell away five hundred feet in an instant and suddenly we were a tiny blob in a massive volcanic bowl, all of which was clearly visible in the glass bubble of the helicopter. A miniature tennis court, red roofs dotted in the greenery, tiny fluorescent windsurf sails on the beach far below.

To make it worse, the pilot began to descend at once – a touch more quickly that he needed to, perhaps - and my stomach was left a hundred feet above me. The blackened wall of the Petit Piton is so vast that it seemed just feet ahead and I wanted to shout at him to watch out – surely we were about to pile into it – even though intellectually I knew it was half a mile away.

But it was all in a day’s work for him. He calmly swung the airframe around to the left, swooping, down a thousand feet over the Jalousie Hilton (as it was then) and out to sea, swinging back into land and coming in to rest on their landing pad on the water’s edge. The other passenger got out and we continued our journey. We climbed and climbed and headed north along the coast, passing over the bays, beaches and towns. The Caribbean coast of St Lucia is exceptional in itself, but nothing can compare to a close up of the Petit Piton from a chopper.