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Setting foot on Jumby Bay is like stepping through a portal into a parallel universe of pure self-indulgence, where I needn't lift a finger, yet have everything I could possibly want. Within minutes the everyday hustle and bustle melts away and I surrender to complete relaxation.
Elegant palm-lined pathways lead to the Estate House, the resort's centerpiece, which was converted from a 230-year-old sugar plantation home. Here I meet up with manager Peter Bowling, who tells me, "There is a special soul to this island." Maybe he's referring to the playful spirits rumored to inhabit the area, known as jumbies, or maybe he means the mellow atmosphere created by the friendly staff. Either way, there is no doubt that this island is a unique and luxurious place.
Like most guests, I've come to Jumby for its physical proximity to -- and psychological distance from -- the real world: The resort is just minutes from Antigua's international airport, yet it can be reached only by boat. On this private island hideaway, distinguished travelers don't ride in limousines or vie for prime tables in bustling restaurants. They ride bikes or stroll on paths narrow enough that they brush shoulders with fellow guests, and they dine by torchlight in the laid-back, open-air comfort of the Verandah restaurant.
With 300 acres of colorfully landscaped grounds, three beaches and an average of 80 guests at any one time, I find that I can be as private or as social as my mood dictates. When I'm feeling talkative, I can chat with Vernon "Stratty" Joseph as he brings a frosty cocktail to my beach chair, or join fellow guests in the Estate House, where we savor gourmet meals accompanied by the smooth sounds of Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington and Ira Gershwin. When I crave solitude, I can arrange a private picnic on the secluded Pasture Bay Beach or order room service with the touch of a button.
Whatever I want, whenever I want it, the staff is here to please. Bowling says the resort's intent is to "de-stress you from the real world." This philosophy begins the second visitors arrive on the island. There are no keys, so there's no need to check in or out at the front desk. Guests are whisked straight to the comfort of their suites or villas, where they are welcomed with soothing music and a gentle breeze slipping through a wall of louvered doors. Carrying cash is another unnecessary evil; the daily rate covers all meals, drinks and tips, along with most activities.
When the rigors of lounging on the beach wear me out, I amble back to my suite. It's time for dinner, and I'm anticipating another exquisite meal from the kitchen of chef Alex Chen. Getting ready for an evening of fine dining is as enjoyable as the meal itself. I can wash up with designer toiletries in the oversized shower or soak undisturbed in the outdoor tub.
That's the magic of Jumby Bay. It's the kind of place that merges the sophistication of a swank country club with the casual flip-flop-and-swimsuit comfort of a day at the beach, without a trace of pretension. It's a place where staff members are quick to greet me by name with a smile and a cold drink. As fellow guest Paul Weichselbaum observes, "They put their money in service, not attitude."
It's midnight, but I'm still not ready to turn in. I want just one more walk along the island paths, past swaying palms and warmly lit buildings. Once more I gaze up at an endless sky of stars, drinking in the ocean air, luxuriating in one more peaceful night. The playful spirit of the jumbies and restful soul of Jumby Bay have enchanted me.
Posted online 03/23/04.
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