Searching for John Reed on Ile de Re

When John Reed, the head of what was the world’s largest financial institution exited Wall Street in 2000, he hightailed it to an island off the coast of southwest France. Interesting, n’est pas?  I mean, John Reed could have moved anywhere in the world but this Master of the Universe chose Ile de Re. Why?

For years, I wondered about that. But I never managed to actually get to Ile de Re to find the answer - which is strange since as islands go, it is very accessible. It is connected to the mainland by a bridge and is only 15 minutes by taxi from La Rochelle airport.  But finally, my chance arrived when friends generously offered their house over the Easter school holidays. And so we went. With years of built-up expectations, would I be disappointed?

Hardly. This island is as good as its reputation. Elegant but relaxed, popular but unspoiled, charming but not pretentious. Granted we were there off-season. That has many benefits and a few drawbacks. It was way too cold to go in the water but it didn’t stop the die-hard surfers who were having a great time. Many restaurants, shops and activities were not yet open. On the other hand, the restaurants that were open were thrilled to see us. Our seafood lunch at L’Ecailler in La Flotte was particularly memorable. We could ride bikes along 60 miles of deserted bike paths, down empty streets and across lonely marshes filled with wildlife. We walked for hours on the beach without seeing a single soul. We drank the local wine and were the only folks buying oysters at the morning market in La Porte so we received a breakfast of free samples and an amazing lesson in how to open them. It’s so much easier than you think.

Here’s what we didn’t find – crass commercialism, tear-downs, McMansions and all the other nightmares so often seen when too much money is chasing too little real estate. Chapeau to you residents of Ile de Re. You’ve kept the commercial and bad architecture beasts at bay and the island is all the better for it. Long may it last.

Anyway, I am sure the atmosphere of this very special place changes dramatically when its population (20,000 in winter and 220,000 in summer according to Wikipedia) increases  10 fold but basically, I’m not worried. It’s like this. I now understand why John Reed likes to walk the beaches and mess around

in boats and ride bikes and play tennis here. This is a lovely, interesting island Believe the hype – it’s wonderful and by all means, go.

Happy Lord Howe

In his 1933 novel Lost Horizon, James Hilton immortalizes Shangri La, an earthly paradise where humans and nature live in perfect harmony – a utopia one never expects to find in the real life. But it exists.

Lord Howe, a tiny island in the vast Pacific about 600 km northeast of Sydney Australia is just such a place. I was there recently with my husband, daughter and two nieces. And here’s the thing. From the moment we stepped off the plane, we never uttered a cross word nor did we hear one. We never made or received a phone call because there is no mobile reception. We never needed a car because everyone rides bikes. Remarkably, in the 5 days we were there, we never had an unpleasant moment.

Every inch of the island is gorgeous and much of it spectacular. The wildlife seem to know they are protected - like the large turtle who spent a lazy morning swimming with my girls in the lagoon. And even though Lord Howe is idyllic, it is hardly precious. Instead, the vibe is super relaxed and friendly. Everyone knows everyone and after a day or so, they know you too. Everyone on the island, whether walking, biking or in a car, waves.  Snorkel equipment lies around in a hut at Ned’s beach and is based on an honesty system. The fish swim right up to you in the hopes of being fed and are way too smart to get caught by young girls with fishing poles.

The harmony that is Lord Howe owes much to the fact that it was one of the last islands on earth to be discovered. Uninhabited until 1834 (so no displaced humans), the real natives of Lord Howe are birds, fish and plants, many of which are found nowhere else on the planet. With a limit of 400 licensed tourist beds and an airstrip that restricts flights to 36 seat aircraft there is little humans can do to destroy this earthly paradise.  But there is still tons of stuff for humans to do and everything seemed easy to organize. You can swim, surf, dive, hike, climb, bike, fish, golf, lawn bowl and play tennis. (There is not a decent tennis ball on the island so be sure to bring your own.) Or you can happily do nothing.

As for food and accommodation, there are three main resorts: Capella, Arajilla and Pinetrees and an assortment of apartments and guest houses. We stayed at Arajilla and recommend it highly. We loved the location nestled in a banyan tree grove steps from the beach.  The staff is some of the nicest and most accommodating people I have encountered. The food was consistently excellent and I loved the fact that the owners were present and engaged in our having the best possible time.

Down the road from Arajilla is Pinetrees, operated by the same family since 1848 and the original place to stay for generations of Australians coming to Lord Howe. Capella Lodge at the other end of the island looked very smart but our girls enjoyed being closer to the “action” at Arajilla.

But no place is perfect, right? If there is a fly in the ointment on Lord Howe, it is the question of price. No Crowds does not often endorse really expensive travel experiences because the folks who tend to go to terribly expensive places are often not much fun. Well, that’s not the case on Lord Howe plus some things are worth the expense and I would argue that it is far better to save up for Lord Howe than to go somewhere else. Never has the notion of no crowds been more delightfully delivered than on this happy, harmonious island.

Caye Caulker – Better than Magaritaville

As our boat pulled up to the dock at Caye Caulker, a tiny island lying 21 miles off the coast of Belize City, a skinny, toothless smiling man straight out of central casting picked me out from the dozen or so people disembarking. “ I can tell from the look in your eyes that you are Katherine Hedges and that you want to go to the Iguana Reef Inn. I am Frederick and I will take you there.” Frederick then hoisted our backpacks into the basket of his bicycle and off we went. “Here you can eat – very economical, there you can wash your clothes. This lady will do your hair. Where are you from? My favourite book is I Buried My Heart at Wounded Knee. I have read it many, many times but I lost it. Have a nice time on Caye Caulker. See you around.”

Indeed, Frederick was the perfect introduction to this care free island. With the decline of the fishing industry over the years, islanders have come to depend more and more on tourism, but the place still feels relaxed and un-commercial. Most accommodations consist of guest houses, there are no cars but a comfortable amount of aging golf carts, no golf courses, but easy access to spectacular snorkelling, fishing and diving and plenty of laid-back restaurants serving super fresh seafood. On Caye Caulker, dressing for dinner means putting on a shirt.

Knowing that Jeff’s tolerance for rediscovering his non-existent hippie past was limited, I booked us into the only truly grown-up hotel on the island, the Iguana Reef Inn which has beautifully decorated rooms, air conditioning (important), a delightful sandy beach on the water, good swimming and a first class bar. While the Iguana Reef does not have a restaurant, they serve an ocean-side breakfast with homemade yoghurt, fresh tropical fruit, cinnamon rolls and pots and pots of steaming and very good coffee. Probably the best place on the island to watch sunsets is from the beach at Iguana Reef where the photo above was taken.

There are plenty of very informal places to eat on Caye Caulker. Our favourite was The Sand Box by the front dock where tables are set in the sand, both inside and out. The portions are generous and service friendly, although Jeff did rather shock our waiter when he asked him where he could buy one of those great Haile Selassie shirts he was wearing. Really cheap, really deeply fried and really good take-away food can be found at Pirates. We almost ate at Rasta Pasta based on its cool name, location and reputation, but they had had a big party there the night before, en-route to resupply them the drinks distributor was hijacked and so there was nothing to drink. We went elsewhere.

There are lots of great things to do on the island: snorkeling, diving, wind surfing, fishing, boating, you name it. We did none of that. We did manage to rent bikes and ride around, we walked on the beach, but mostly we dozed on the beach, read books and drank beer. Occasionally, Jeff would wander off to check his email at the internet bar. We took leisurely lunches. It was perfect. Go quick before tourism or a hurricane or both wash this laid-back idyll away.

Iguana Reef Inn
PO Box 31
Caye Caulker, Belize
Tel: 501-226-0213
Fax: 501-226-0087
Email: iguanareef@btl.net
http://www.iguanareefinn.com/

The Sand Box
on the beach, near Front Dock
Tel: 501-226-0097

Rasta Pasta Rainforest Café
Front Street
Tel: 501 226 0358 or 501 206 0356

Nantucket - Great Off Season

For good reason, Nantucket is the hideaway of choice for America’s investment bankers and captains of industry. The island is gorgeous, in that Ralph Lauren kind of way, removed, but not too far, and blessed with several charming towns, lovely heaths and moors and 50 miles of beachfront. You can choose from a surfer’s beach, a children’s beach, a nude beach and scores of others with waves ranging from tiny to titanic. There are golf courses, tennis and yacht clubs, bike paths, stables and plenty of gourmet food. But do not visit this magical paradise in summer. During the high season of June, July and August, traffic and parking are a nonsense and prices are insane. By contrast, Nantucket in the off-season offers a premier US holiday destination for the independent traveller who loves to travel but is highly allergic to tourism.

However you come to Nantucket, once you arrive, you will begin to relax. For me this feeling results from the smell of ocean and scrub pine, the sound of waves and birds and an old-fashioned scruffy Yankee ethos that even the island’s new money enjoy imitating. Old but cool cars, dogs with bandanas, bleached red trousers and beat-up shoes are the order of the day.

Although flights are quick and easy, I prefer the romance of arriving by boat. The ferries (http://www.hy-linecruises.com/ or http://www.islandferry.com/ ), which depart from Hyannis, Massachusetts, have gotten faster over the years. It now takes just an hour, except for the car ferry which takes just over 2, although sadly the ships have lost some character. The cell phone brigade keeps calling their offices and the interior seats and tables resemble fast food furniture. Still, there are fun moments that remind you that you are off to a far away place. The crew look weather beaten and speak with a Massachusetts accent so thick it almost begs for subtitles. On my last passage from Hyannis to Nantucket, I saw a team of high spirited girls with lacrosse sticks returning to the mainland after a game on the island. I thought at the time, “This sure beats getting on a school bus.”

Perfection is carefully managed on Nantucket and for an island full of marauding capitalists, the town fathers have taken quite a socialistic approach to community living. No matter how much money you have, your house can not be seen to mar the good taste of the island. You may not change either the colour of your window trim or the shingles on your roof without permission. Anything built today is clad in cedar shingles and creeping roses are everywhere.

While the style police seem to be holding back the tackiness tide on the micro side, on the macro side, the amount of building going on all over the island is disturbing. With 30% appreciation in real estate prices per annum, according to the Nantucket Island Chamber of Commerce, the pressure to build is immense. The beauty and special character of the place drives the understandable urge to own a piece of this paradise. But, one wonders, how much more can be added before one reaches the tipping point. I take comfort in the idea that Nantucket has been grappling with development issues since the whaling boom of the 1700s and can only hope that it will survive this boom as well.

With all this building going on, you still will be challenged to find affordable accommodation on the island. If you have followed my advice and stay away from high season, most of your troubles are solved as hotels, guest houses and bed & breakfasts are on offer at 50 to 60% less than the top rates. Good negotiators may be able to do better than that. The Nantucket Chamber of Commerce http://www.nantucketchamber.org/ is a good place to start narrowing down the type of accommodation and island location you prefer. All class and category are available from small and charming B&Bs to ultra-luxe hotels.

Incidentally, in the 20 years that I have been coming to Nantucket, I have never brought over a car. If you have a bike, bring it, or you can rent one easily at the dock when you get off the ferry. There is also a shuttle bus service and cabs are easily available if somewhat pricey ( From the ferry to an outer destination like Madaket is $15. Siasconset might be more.). Cars can be rented on the island as well. But my advice is to stick with the bike. There are wonderful bike paths to virtually any place you would want to go and even riding with small children is safe, easy and relaxing.

If you do bring or rent an off road vehicle, one of the surprising things you can still do, even though the island suffers from terrible erosion, is drive on the beach. And if you get stuck in the deep sand, Harry of Harry’s Towing, who has stapled his business cards onto little bits of driftwood and twigs in all the locations on the island where a car is likely to get stuck, will get you out. He can find you anywhere and strangely knows where you are, even if you do not. My friends on the island have all used Harry at one time or another. They love him, even if his prices are painful.

On Nantucket, food can be delicious but is always expensive. Even the grocery stores pack a wallop. We spent $45 for a (good) picnic lunch for 3 consisting of some chicken salad, guacamole, chips and drinks. Still, you can source fresh fish from local waters at fair prices that are terrific. Restaurants range from simple to ultra serious. The newly reopened Brotherhood of Thieves http://www.brotherhoodofthieves.com/ is a popular bar and restaurant downtown named after an abolitionist pamphlet attacking the Island’s clergy for not doing enough to free the slaves. The restaurant serves a good selection of informal fare and everyone in town is likely to be there. The SeaGrille Restaurant http://www.seagrille.com/ , located just outside of town and open for lunch and dinner year round is a great place to go for fresh and well prepared seafood.

For holiday makers who like activity, Nantucket accommodates with a full calendar of events. The day I arrived in early May, one could attend a “Dancing with Dogs” class advertised as a Canine Freestyle demo and workshop. During the same month, one could visit a chocolate tasting, listen to the University of Michigan Men’s Glee Club Concert, go on a Bird-a-thon walk and much more. Not bad for off-season.

But my final and most important advice for navigating this latter day Garden of Eden - be sure to watch the weather reports.

While my visit to Nantucket was near perfect, getting off the island became a drama of huge proportions. With a birthday and the university graduation of a son to attend on the mainland, I was asleep at the wheel as a large storm known as a “Nor’easter because of the direction of the strong winds, blew in overnight, shutting down all transportation on and off the Island. Even Captains of Industry and Directors of the Global Economy were stuck. As the weather worsened, the number of panicked people trying to get off grew, including nine guys with tickets to a Red Soxs baseball game for that night who were prepared to swim.

After 24 unsuccessful hours at the airport, I took the decision to go for the sympathy of the airline personnel. I tell them my story. Mother of four, who has travelled all the way from London to be at her son’s graduation, desperately needs priority handling to get off the island. The young man who made the mistake of sending my bag, but not me, on yesterday’s only flight out, (he went for the Red Soxs fans) has decided to take on my quest. And, when the first 10-seater plane arrives from Hyannis, I have Seat Number 1 and all the airport personnel cheer as I board the plane.

The wind is howling at 50 MPH and my pilot looks like Woody Allen. I like Woody Allen and his films just fine, but I would feel better if this particular pilot looked more like Harrison Ford. As we take-off, blowing first left and right and then up and down, I found religion. “I’m in God’s hands now”, I thought. In the end, we landed safely, I had an uneventful drive to New York City, made the graduation and had this story to tell.

Despite the departure travails, my off-season visit to Nantucket was holiday bliss. The residents were happy to see me which would probably not have been the case in high summer. The weather, glorious for most of the time, did take a dramatic turn for the worse but I’ve had that happen in plenty of places that had none of Nantucket’s charms. I was able to walk for hours on beaches and moors without seeing another human being, although I saw plenty of wildlife. I ate great food. I enjoyed the architecture, the cobbled streets, and the independent and very good bookstores. I love this island rich in history, tradition and natural beauty and I'll be back as soon as the summer crowds depart.