I am a beach bum for two weeks. May seem like an odd time to travel to our digs in the Turks and Caicos Islands when the Canadian climate is more predictably on the sunny side of its bi-polar disposition. But we unplug here in a way that we don’t seem able to north of the 44th parallel.
I overheard my youngest daughter say ‘look mama, handsfree’ and it didn’t have a thing to do with Bluetooth. She was on her sister’s shoulders and had rummaged up the courage to let go. Seems we all have this week.
I am definitely dialed off work and will admit I am on my third bellini at 2:30 in the aft. But in my mid-day haze, I am reveling and recalling the view of our last week. Not just out our condo doors which is impossibly lovely and slow but everywhere. Beauty abounds here. It does everywhere, I will concede. But I guess I don’t give in to seeing it in the same way when life isn’t on pause.
In and amongst our diving and golf, core fusion (a must if you ever find yourself near an EXHALE spa), pool play and champion sand sculpting, we eat. A lot. Dinners are events here and rarely disappoint.
Heaps of pleasure in the food, yes, but it is the setting that always blows me away – the little things are never lost. I just find these moments fully and completely feed every sense. Here are a few of my favorite spots on Provodenciales:
Lemon is like a page out of some Arabian nights fantasy. Hidden among multiple stalled developments (it is the islands – one speed here) is a box with windows that hinge open upwards. The ceiling is draped in yards and yards of gauzy white linen. Banquettes abound, fluffy with brightly coloured cushions. Lanterns suspend randomly, candle lit. Slightest hint of fragrant jasmine as the breeze comes and goes. And the authentically Moroccan food is insane. Complete sensory fulfillment.
Da Conch Shack is far less intentional. We watched a storm roll in here earlier this week and felt like belongers (that is what locals call themselves). It is typically Caribbean with its candy-coloured clap boards, sleepy white walls, steel drum beats and all too easy rum punch but just out of the way enough to feel authentic and local. And you better like conch because it is the star of this show here. If you aren’t sure, this is the place to have it if you’re curious. From sea to plate, you are looking at all of 15 minutes. Freshiest freshness indeed.
Ignore the plastic furniture and just look up at Coco Bistro. Really. Buried inland, this oasis is like a tall drink of water with its tiny twinkle light wrapped towering palms and is insanely romantic despite our ever present little ones. The cuisine is modern Caribbean and consistently yum. But the real satisfaction comes with dessert. Their coconut cream pie is my heaven.
I do love me some food and some ambiance but am full is so many ways courtesy of this little hiatus from life. Spirit and belly round, we will be back to life all too soon. Bring it.