Mustique Island, an emerald charm in the Grenadine bracelet, is a superlative of Caribbean magic. Privately owned and meticulously maintained, the lush island offers solitude, security and serenity for visitors with refined and discriminating tastes.
Savoring the last of my rum punch, I let out a deep sigh and watched from our verandah as a new patch of orange splashed across the evening sky. Every so slowly the tropical sun sank toward the horizon and the three of us held our breath --- There it was! The green flash!
"Did you see it?" I excitedly asked my companions. "Just as the sun disappeared?"
"Yes, I think so," Bethany said. "What is the green flash exactly?" Matt asked. "A mirage? An optical illusion? I mean, is it real?"
"I don't know. I mean, we saw it, right? That makes it real,"
I said as I turned to see the sky burst into another new pallet of colors and the sea deepen to a mystical violet. The hillsides of Mustique slowly released the golden light of the day and sank quietly into a hushed silence. Gradually from the darkness rose the sound of crickets and the gentle slap of waves on the shore.
"Then again," I said, rethinking the green flash. "Think of the incredible villas we saw today. The beaches, the ocean, the hills. Pinch me, I'm not sure if anything on Mustique is real."
Earlier that day, the three of us arrived on Mustique via air direct from Barbados. We'd claimed three of the six seats on our tiny plane in Barbados and enjoyed a spectacular flight low over the vast expanse of the blue Caribbean. Our final approach to Mustique revealed stretches of white sand and clear, China blue bays embracing green, rolling hills. The airport, with its array of bamboo buildings and thatch roofs, was postcard perfect. Clearing customs and immigration was as easy as the tropical breeze and we made the short trip from the airport to our villa using the local form of transport -- a golf cart.
