RE: Anguilla on $1000 a day - NYTimes
Wanna cut to the chase here? I don't think Jennifer Anuston is a cryptographer, and I got bored hacking my way through this reporter commiserating at being at a high-end clip joint. -TD From: Bill Stewart [EMAIL PROTECTED] To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Subject: Anguilla on $1000 a day - NYTimes Date: Sat, 26 Feb 2005 19:19:55 -0800 (PST) The NYT updates us on a favorite cryptographers' hideout http://travel2.nytimes.com/2005/02/27/travel/27high.html February 27, 2005 HIGH LOW High: Anguilla on $1000 a Day By JULIET MACUR N hour after arriving on Anguilla in early January, I was soaking in the hot tub at an exclusive resort, sunglasses on, eyes closed, sun warming my pasty Northeastern face. Ah, Anguilla, a quiet island that has recently become the next St. Barts, a hedonistic hideaway and magnet for members of the boldface set. At the northeast corner of this narrow isle, Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt spent New Year's in a villa on Captain's Bay. On its southwestern coast, Jay-Z and Beyonci had cuddled on the sands of Shoal Bay West. Down the beach from my resort, Uma Thurman had kicked back at a local bar. Just as I began to imagine that I, too, was a star on an escape-the-paparazzi trip, reality interrupted. A foreign object crashed into my hot tub and sent water slapping against my face. A small boy and his father were throwing a ball wildly. The father's next toss bounced off the boy's head and against a woman's forehead. The father laughed. The woman smiled. I growled and thought, This doesn't happen to Jennifer Aniston. I left in a huff because I had no time for distractions. This was serious business: I had to figure out how to get by on $1,000 a day. Related Feature Low: Anguilla on $250 a Day Though Anguilla is a relatively undeveloped island where goats might outnumber residents, $1,000 a day at a chic resort amounts to roughing it. At the Cap Juluca resort, the cheapest room in high season cost $936 a night, including the 20 percent tax. Malliouhana Hotel offered a garden view room on the first floor for $744. If my best friend, Rose, and I were to eat, drink and even think of going to the spa on my $1,000-a-day budget, the only high-end resort I could afford was the CuisinArt Resort and Spa, which sits near the island's southwestern end on Rendezvous Bay's beach, one and a half miles of flour-soft sand, blindingly white. The turquoise ocean water was as clear as Evian, and you could see fish near the sea floor. The cheapest rate, $550 plus $110 tax - but including Continental breakfast - would allow us to pretend we belonged at this beautiful place. The resort's grounds were simple and elegant. Eggplant-colored bougainvillea climbed the whitewashed stucco buildings that looked as if they had been plucked from a Greek cliff. In a nearby garden were trees heavy with guavas, fig bananas and star apples. As we looked from the lobby onto a series of rectangular pools cascading to the beach, a receptionist said we had been upgraded from the main house to a suite in one of the 10 three-story villas clustered along the shore. We hope you don't mind, she said, unaware that I was a journalist. No, we didn't, and certainly not after seeing the room. The upgrade, to a junior suite that would have cost $120 more a night, allowed us to hear waves from our patio. Our suite was a cheery, not fancy, single room, but at 920 square feet was nearly as big as my Manhattan apartment. A navy couch broke up the space into sleeping and lounging areas. Two double beds with wicker headboards faced the porch and a walkway to the beach. Paintings of Greek fishing villages and bright bedspreads splashed color against the white walls and tile floors. A brochure called the bathroom your own private sanctum, large enough for an oval tub for a honeymooning couple's bubble bath. But nothing was that private, considering one wall was made of warped glass. While on the outside walkway one day, I gasped when I saw a fuzzy version of Rose heading for the shower. At the resort's free reception on our first night (with food and drink), the manager, Rabin Ortiz, told us, Do not make plans for your weekend. We quickly learned why. There are no plans to make because, on Anguilla, there is basically nothing to do. And that's the point. At CuisinArt, stay away from the main pool (where ball-tossing children congregate). Instead, sit on the beach and take delivery of homemade lemon sorbet from waiters whose goal is to fill you with fruity rum drinks. After sundown, submit to spa treatments like the Anguillan coconut pineapple scrub, which smells good enough to eat, and the hydroponic cucumber and aloe wrap, using ingredients grown on the premises. It was the perfect place for us: upscale, but not one bit snooty. Night life is minimal. (At 10:30 on Saturday night, only one couple was at our resort's bar, where a trio sang Endless Love.) Sea kayaks, sailboats, catamarans and tennis courts were available and mostly unused. For casino or dance
Anguilla on $1000 a day - NYTimes
The NYT updates us on a favorite cryptographers' hideout http://travel2.nytimes.com/2005/02/27/travel/27high.html February 27, 2005 HIGH LOW High: Anguilla on $1000 a Day By JULIET MACUR N hour after arriving on Anguilla in early January, I was soaking in the hot tub at an exclusive resort, sunglasses on, eyes closed, sun warming my pasty Northeastern face. Ah, Anguilla, a quiet island that has recently become the next St. Barts, a hedonistic hideaway and magnet for members of the boldface set. At the northeast corner of this narrow isle, Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt spent New Year's in a villa on Captain's Bay. On its southwestern coast, Jay-Z and Beyoncé had cuddled on the sands of Shoal Bay West. Down the beach from my resort, Uma Thurman had kicked back at a local bar. Just as I began to imagine that I, too, was a star on an escape-the-paparazzi trip, reality interrupted. A foreign object crashed into my hot tub and sent water slapping against my face. A small boy and his father were throwing a ball wildly. The father's next toss bounced off the boy's head and against a woman's forehead. The father laughed. The woman smiled. I growled and thought, This doesn't happen to Jennifer Aniston. I left in a huff because I had no time for distractions. This was serious business: I had to figure out how to get by on $1,000 a day. Related Feature Low: Anguilla on $250 a Day Though Anguilla is a relatively undeveloped island where goats might outnumber residents, $1,000 a day at a chic resort amounts to roughing it. At the Cap Juluca resort, the cheapest room in high season cost $936 a night, including the 20 percent tax. Malliouhana Hotel offered a garden view room on the first floor for $744. If my best friend, Rose, and I were to eat, drink and even think of going to the spa on my $1,000-a-day budget, the only high-end resort I could afford was the CuisinArt Resort and Spa, which sits near the island's southwestern end on Rendezvous Bay's beach, one and a half miles of flour-soft sand, blindingly white. The turquoise ocean water was as clear as Evian, and you could see fish near the sea floor. The cheapest rate, $550 plus $110 tax - but including Continental breakfast - would allow us to pretend we belonged at this beautiful place. The resort's grounds were simple and elegant. Eggplant-colored bougainvillea climbed the whitewashed stucco buildings that looked as if they had been plucked from a Greek cliff. In a nearby garden were trees heavy with guavas, fig bananas and star apples. As we looked from the lobby onto a series of rectangular pools cascading to the beach, a receptionist said we had been upgraded from the main house to a suite in one of the 10 three-story villas clustered along the shore. We hope you don't mind, she said, unaware that I was a journalist. No, we didn't, and certainly not after seeing the room. The upgrade, to a junior suite that would have cost $120 more a night, allowed us to hear waves from our patio. Our suite was a cheery, not fancy, single room, but at 920 square feet was nearly as big as my Manhattan apartment. A navy couch broke up the space into sleeping and lounging areas. Two double beds with wicker headboards faced the porch and a walkway to the beach. Paintings of Greek fishing villages and bright bedspreads splashed color against the white walls and tile floors. A brochure called the bathroom your own private sanctum, large enough for an oval tub for a honeymooning couple's bubble bath. But nothing was that private, considering one wall was made of warped glass. While on the outside walkway one day, I gasped when I saw a fuzzy version of Rose heading for the shower. At the resort's free reception on our first night (with food and drink), the manager, Rabin Ortiz, told us, Do not make plans for your weekend. We quickly learned why. There are no plans to make because, on Anguilla, there is basically nothing to do. And that's the point. At CuisinArt, stay away from the main pool (where ball-tossing children congregate). Instead, sit on the beach and take delivery of homemade lemon sorbet from waiters whose goal is to fill you with fruity rum drinks. After sundown, submit to spa treatments like the Anguillan coconut pineapple scrub, which smells good enough to eat, and the hydroponic cucumber and aloe wrap, using ingredients grown on the premises. It was the perfect place for us: upscale, but not one bit snooty. Night life is minimal. (At 10:30 on Saturday night, only one couple was at our resort's bar, where a trio sang Endless Love.) Sea kayaks, sailboats, catamarans and tennis courts were available and mostly unused. For casino or dance club action, it's a half-hour ferry ride to St. Martin. Still, after too many games of boccie and gin rummy - or perhaps not enough gin and rum - we searched for some fun. Down the beach was Dune Preserve, a delightfully mellow bar inside a wooden shack owned by the local reggae legend Bankie Banx. A CuisinArt
