Abundant Beauty: Exploring the Tiny Caribbean Island of Bequia in St. Vincent and the Grenadines

The turboprop plows through pink clouds, revealing the island below: bottle-green hills, miniature sand crescents, Caribbean jade shoals, wooden shacks and houses. And a rolling coastline.

Bequia, half an hour by plane from Barbados, is a prized hotspot in the archipelago nation of St. Vincent and the Grenadines, which includes billionaire hideaway Canouan and celebrity magnet Mustique.

Our plane hits the cricket ground airstrip with a ‘Wow!’ of the white knuckles on board. The winding south coast road to the hotel is steep and bumpy. People wave at bus stops, goats graze on the roadsides, and the air smells of hibiscus.

The last time I came here, about eight years ago, the Caribbean veterans were already heralding Bequia (‘bek-wy’) as the next big thing in the Windies. So I’m a little nervous. Has changed? Or is it still intact, unhurried and unpretentious?

Fortunately, I am delighted to find that the boutique Bequia Beach Hotel, with its ocean view balcony suites and cabanas, is still family friendly.

The genial Swedish owner, Bengt Mortstedt, welcomes newcomers, helped by his daughter or son and daughter-in-law. The grounds are filled with palm trees and flowers bright as a paint box, while the mostly happy returning guests are never too old to spin to the calypso sounds of the DJ. After a dip in Friendship Bay and an evening rum punch, I dine on jerk chicken and grilled amberjack at Bagatelle, the hotel’s restaurant, overlooking the surf.

Mortstedt pulls up a chair, and as the wine flows, so does the talk, from discussing the island’s precious rainwater reserves to the rise of its super villas.

Case in point: Grenadine Hills, a trio of new palatial stacks to the north along the sands and part of the hotel. With tourmaline-blue private plunge pools, elegant St. Vincent hardwood fixtures, and al fresco dining, at over £2020 a night for ten guests, they’re Mustique-worthy—and much more affordable.

Mortstedt says Bequia will never be a mass market. There is the lack of space, water and air transport. I don’t see any money coming in to build a longer runway, although they’ve already repaved the San Vicente International Airport, which opened six years ago.

Relations with the mainland, home to Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves, are a topic of conversation in Bequia.

Raising a local eyebrow or two, his son, real estate developer Storm, has secured land for a huge development, including 50 luxury villas and a 100-room hotel in the small east coast community of Spring. Billed as the world’s first bitcoin community, it made international headlines when it launched in 2021, but construction had yet to begin.

The next morning I visited the capital, Port Elizabeth, using Gideon’s taxi service, who kindly bills your room, picking you up and dropping you off anywhere. The cab is open, the ride is windy and towns flash by as bright as Dolly Mixtures.

Port Elizabeth is a riot of colour, with a bright blue and white Anglican church, St Mary’s, and rainbow fruit market stalls. There are views over yachts and catamarans, reminders of Bequia’s maritime heritage: sailing, boatbuilding, fishing, and even whaling, with an official limit of four a year.

It is a wonderful place to walk. In an alleyway, I discover Threadworks, which makes beautiful, sustainable island fashions and oozes initiative.

“We’re still feeling the repercussions of Covid,” says Jessica, the store manager. “He highlighted the fragility of our economy and the need to diversify our offerings.”

For a more local flavor, Jessica takes me to nearby Cheri’s Rooftop Terrace, a current island favorite with expats and locals alike, with shabby-chic tavern decor and more “West Indian tapas,” as Cheri calls them.

I eat small plates of guava chicken, sour mango conch fritters, and chutney-poached lobster as Cheri tells me how she built her restaurant on the roof of her house because the rent was too expensive.

Harvesting rainwater, growing food: Bequians are super resourceful. I also eat well at Jack’s Beach Bar, which is pale and modern, like something from St Tropez.

Picking at coconut prawns and conch croquettes, I notice BBC chef Matt Tebbutt (Saturday Kitchen) is there.

To find it, follow the atmospheric walkway from Port Elizabeth south along the waterfront and around the headland to Princess Margaret Beach.

Named after an apocryphal visit by royalty on their honeymoon, it is the best beach on the island, with calm, pond-like waters. I’m actually lying: Lower Bay, further south, is even more beautiful. It’s effortlessly laid back, shaded by trees and loved by locals and visitors alike.

The new place to meet the islanders in the Lower Bay is Provision, which works magic with local produce.

I speak to Chris and Lou, from Manchester, who moved to Bequia to open a bijou B&B, The Lookout, on a hill above the sea.

We share Asian-flavored delicacies including irresistible cold noodles with chicken skewers and they insist I must return for next year’s Bequia Music Fest (‘a reggae, soca and soul riot’), which takes place over the last week. from January.

Bequia no longer needs to be the next big thing. It is what it is and those who know it come back again and again.