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Mustique Getaway

Suzanne G., Villa Specialist

I awoke to incredible views of both the Atlantic and Caribbean Sea. Nearby, the soft rolling hills were dotted with tortoises crawling ever so slowly to their intended destination. The breezes here were constant and welcome.

It was the first morning in Mustique, the small island in the  Grenadines, only 2 square miles and very quiet. It is a private island owned by the Mustique company with only 100 homes on it and very exclusive, more so than St. Barths.  The wonderful staffs here will pamper you and make you wonder how you ever got along without one. This is where you go when you don’t want to be seen and simply want to relax and unwind.


We started our trip in Barbados, and after a 45 minute flight, arrived in Mustique at the most adorable airport I’ve ever seen. It was tiny, with bamboo walls and colorful flags waving in the breeze.

Our contact was there to greet us with her big warm smile. A couple of the staff from our villa were there to assist as well, including Mack the Butler. Five minutes later by mule, dodging the tortoises on the way, we arrived at our new hillside home for the next three nights, Villa Paradiso. Our mouths all but dropped as we approached our villa. The house and position were just incredible.

Entrance to the beautiful Villa Paradiso

My colleagues Michael, Jean and I each chose a room, each with their own theme. Mine was India on the 2nd floor with sunrise views, Jean’s was Portugal on the ground level with sunrise views, and  Michael’s was Morocco which was next to mine with sunset views. The staff went as far as to spell out “Welcome to Paradise” on our beds with flower petals.

After settling in, our villa manager came to welcome us to villa. Later we had cocktails and dinner at Paradiso, which our chef Wendy prepared perfectly.

Dining area at Villa Paradiso

Monday – July 17th

After my morning swim and breakfast, we were off to see 7 villas.

This afternoon we were in for a treat. Our staff set up a beach picnic for us at Macaroni beach. When we arrived, three of or our staff had set up a picnic for us under the gazebo with barbecue chicken, ribs, pasta and green salad, and cold beverages. Michael and I dared to swim despite the very large waves.

Dinner was at the Cotton House. We were one of the only three tables having dinner –it was off season in July – but the ambiance was lovely with glowing torches and dim lighting.

Cotton House, Mustique

Tuesday – July 18th

The next day off we went to see eight villas and have a tour of the Cotton House.

A spectacular view of Cotton House

After work we went back to Paradiso where our Butler Mack prepared a fabulous lunch of pastry wrapped chicken with curry, sushi, and salad. We followed this with a trip to the village for some shopping. I discovered that the island had a little more going on than I originally thought it did. It has a school, library, small food market and bakery, two gift stores, a fish market, and a bar, Basil’s. The original one is currently being redone so they had a makeshift Basil’s set up for thirsty visitors.

Just after 8pm, we made our way to the Mustique Company cocktail party at the Cotton House. This is similar to what we do on St Barths, at our Monday night cocktails in the winter. It was nice to see the island come alive with all these people – probably 100 there enjoying the cocktails on the hot summer night.

Followed for dinner was the only other restaurant on island besides the Cotton House, Firefly. It was tiny with rustic charm, and the meal was great, especially the garlic shrimp appetizer.

Wednesday – July 19th

The morning consisted of packing, breakfast, a last swim in the pool and a stroll out to the lookout gazebo with Jean, which had views down to the main harbor. Here I fed flowers to a tortoise and later found a sweet baby tortoise, about 3 inches long. We all fell in love with it. Hard to leave him. Hard to leave this place, but alas we were off. We’ll take the new knowledge of this place and the memories home.

Pool view of Villa Paradiso.



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