From the tiled patio outside my room, I look out at swaying palms and the long stretch of beach edging bright aquamarine water. A couple riding bicycles appears: They are standing up to pedal, smiling and giggling ¯ and wearing bathrobes. Welcome to Jumby Bay.
A small island just off the north coast of Antigua, Jumby Bay is home to an exclusive collection of private residences and an extraordinary all-inclusive resort. The excellent service begins the moment you step aboard the plush motor launch for the eight-minute hop to the island. As I settle into a captain's chair, the smiling, attentive mate presents a premium rum punch. Rudi Schoenbein, the resort's general manager, greets every guest at the dock. He explains that Jumby Bay's all-inclusive, never-have-to-sign-for-anything concept was created ''for your convenience.''
My suite is a luxurious island retreat enclosed by louvered wooden doors that let the fresh sea breeze flow through the room. A bottle of champagne sits on ice, and the small fridge has a selection of beers and sodas. A king-size mahogany four-poster bed swathed in mosquito netting sits just a step up from the rest of the room. The huge bathroom opens to a private atrium. At night, turndown service includes a small watercolor print placed on your pillow in lieu of a mint.
Breakfast is served on the open-air Verandah Terrace restaurant or delivered to your room: eggs or crab cakes, pastries and fresh fruit. Spend your afternoons relaxing on the main beach, sipping cold drinks brought to your lounge chair.
There are no cars here, only bicycles and golf carts. You can tour the 300-acre island on a winding path, walking or biking past the private residences with names like Banaquit ¯owned by British author Ken Follet ¯ and the sprawling five-bedroom house that Robin Leach just sold for $7.5 million.
The elegant great house has sweeping views of the bay and Antigua. A small bar on the second floor sets out hors d'oeuvres, and guests sip martinis or glasses of an excellent house wine. When you're seated for dinner, a musician plays softly as couples get up to dance. I deliberate between the chef's special menu, the N.Y. strip or linguini with fresh seafood, but I can't resist the Blue Mountain coffeecake for dessert.
I tell myself I can work it off tomorrow in the lap pool or at the open-air fitness center. But as I sip cognac on the great house balcony, gazing out over the twinkling lights of Antigua, I think maybe I'll just get up early, put on my bathrobe and take a morning bike ride around the island.
Posted online 04/10/02.
