December 6, 2024

I’ve never been much for the cabana experience. Frankly, I just never saw the point; I mean you’re already paying to stay at a resort on the beach – why would you pay even more for what amounts to little more than a pup tent with a day bed? Yet the trio of miniature beach shacks at Four Seasons Resort Nevis struck me as far too inviting to not finally break down and give it a try. Each architecturally detailed bungalow comes fully loaded: couch, dining table, flat screen tv, wi-fi, iPod dock, fruit, stocked refrigerator, loungers on the deck, loungers on the sand, loungers on your own stretch of beach, and best of all, a butler. I had no idea what I’d been missing. Happily ensconced after breakfast in my little home away from home, I didn’t want to leave. So I didn’t. I read a little, I slept a little, I listened to all six hours of Wagner’s Götterdämmerung while navigating between the three levels of lounge chairs at my disposal. I swam, I snorkeled, I got spritzed with Evian and cooled by soothing mint-scented towels just as the beads of brow-sweat were becoming an irritant. When hunger hit, a feast was delivered. So, too, a crisp bottle of Chateau D’esclans Whispering Angel rose. In fact, every time I had passing thoughts of some thing that I might like, the butler was there with a toothsome smile and one treat or another, be it the aforementioned spritz or a mid-afternoon mango smoothie. The phrase “treated like a king” gets bandied about these days with far too much frequency, so let’s just say I was duly recognized as the reigning royalty of my little shake-shack. Alas, time passes far too quickly when you’re being coddled. Before I could truly appreciate it, the sun was setting over the Caribbean and I was draining the last dregs of rose – raising a glass in toast to the purest day of wanton leisure I’ve had since I was 10 years old.

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