The palette of the hotel’s décor reflects what Grenada is famous for: its array of aromatic spices. The nutmeg, cinnamon, clove and bay leaf hues convey warmth throughout the property. The furnishings are smooth, dark and contemporary, with modern Dedon shapes creating a sexy ambiance.

DO forgive me if I am mistaken, or somehow expecting too much. But I think when there is a departure time, clearly stated on your ticket, then your plane should depart at that time or at least, close to it. I knew that I was heading to a resort that had recently received accolades, including Hotel of the Year, and I knew that I had only an overnight stay. All this I knew. What I did not know is that the poor desk clerk at my airline of choice was actually telling the truth when she explained that my delay was out of her hands. What I did not know is that very morning the powers-that-be decided that the Grenada airport would be closed, owing to emergency drills, effectively cutting my stay in half. I don’t take disappointment well; in fact it wells up in my chest, causing my chin to jut out and my voice to rise to a high squeak, dangerously brimming with wet frustration, and my maturity level to take a nosedive. Traveller’s frustration is a common enough malaise, and one that has no vaccination, but, thankfully, is rarely fatal. The only salve I have found is to focus on the result, put my journey back into perspective. And so I sat back in my notso- fragrant airport chair, closed my eyes and focused on the Spice ahead. I have painted this picture because it’s vital for you, dear reader, to envision my state of my mind when I arrived at the Spice Island Beach Resort, seven hours, two planes, threeislands and not a morsel of food or a drop to drink later.
Backdrop – steaming rain.

When I left the next afternoon, I could hardly remember my sour mood. The Spice Island Beach Resort washed it all away with a completely visceral experience. I walked through the courtyard and into the pumpkin- and saffron-coloured lobby, and gazed out at the expanse of blue water. As it was
Christmas time, there was a beautifully-decorated tree and soft reggae Christmas carols played. I was given an icy fruit punch and a cool towel to press to my forehead. I inhaled the citrus from the towel, the scent of nutmeg and pine on the breeze and started to relax.

The hotel itself has been through its own trials and tribulations, not least of all Hurricane Ivan, which nearly devastated the property and much of the island of Grenada. Sir Royston, instead of being broken by the tragedy, vowed that the hotel would be rebuilt, and better than ever. What stands today is a testament to his unique vision. The palette of the hotel’s décor reflects what Grenada is famous for: its array of aromatic spices. The nutmeg, cinnamon, clove
and bay leaf hues convey warmth throughout the property. The furnishings are smooth, dark and contemporary, with modern Dedon shapes creating a sexy, streamlined ambience. My suite was the ultimate in subtle luxury - a walledoff courtyard, with private plunge pool, deck and separate sauna. It almost felt like a mini private villa, with living room and huge bedroom overlooking my pool, carved fourposter bed and sumptuous Frette linens. The bathroom was all platinum marble, with Molten Brown amenities and a jacuzzi tub positioned ideally under a huge skylight.

Because of my late arrival, there was very little time to savour the resort in daylight, but with overcast skies and constant drizzle, this was not too much of a problem. Starving, I enjoyed a proper English high tea seaside, and listened to the lulling rhythm of the rain over scones, guava jelly and clotted cream. Back in my room, relaxing in my plush Spice robe after a quick sauna, I received an invitation. Honestly, seeing that it was the standard invitation to the managers’ cocktail party that evening, I almost tossed it aside. I chided myself for my cavalier attitude when I noticed that this function was different; it was to be held not at the hotel, but at the owner’s private residence, off hotel grounds. Sir Royston once remarked that the hotel was an extension of his own lifestyle, and this was a perfect example of that. Once a week, guests are bused up to the Hopkin home at sunset, to mingle over cocktails and canapés on the lawn, overlooking crashing waves. On the evening I attended, Sir Royston made a short speech about the importance of his staff, and then presented an employee of the month award. The experience felt as if we had been invited to stay at a family member’s fabulous home, not a hotel.

Afterwards, I dined at Olivers (the beachfront restaurant at Spice) and enjoyed a lavish six-course menu. The chef integrates indigenous ingredients to exotic dishes, and in an endearing touch, often includes mod versions of Sir Royston’s favourite childhood recipes, originated by the owner’s Grenadian grandmother. And so, in satisfied exhaustion, I
disappeared into the folds of my luxurious bed, with visions of sugar and Spice plums dancing in my head.

The next morning the sun came out in all its glory and I sat at Olivers’ soaking up the dazzling rays reflecting off the pearlescent sand. I indulged in eggs benedict and a pot of wickedly strong Grenadian coffee. This jolt of caffeine gave me just the energy I needed for a tour of the hotel, and a drive around the island, to see that Grenada is bouncing back from Ivan’s lashing with a steely determination. Later that afternoon, I was treated to a massage at Janissa’s Spa, a fullservice spa on the property. The spa director also managed to persuade me to try Dermalogica, the spa’s line of choice, to soothe my travel- weary skin.

That afternoon, upon checking out, I remembered a group of people who had gathered in the lobby the day before, as I checked into the hotel, in a bleary haze. They, too, had been victims of the dreaded travellers’ malaise, as their flight back to London had been delayed a whopping 24 hours, forcing them to return to the hotel for an additional night. However, they looked nothing like me - any trace of frustration was hard sought. In fact, they were overjoyed that their flight had been delayed. Forget any deadlines, responsibilities and
commitments that awaited them back at home. Their stay at Spice Island Beach Resort had been a deliverance from pesky life details. It is the attention to detail, the subtle luxury, the dedication and warm embrace of the staff that combine
to make this hotel a true great escape·