Antigua

• Nelson got it wrong, Antigua is fab! - Antigua
• I don’t like Antigua. I love it! and so will you! - Antigua
• My Millionaire Week - Bahamas
• The Bond hotel to die for - Bahamas
• Join the stars in the sun - Barbados
• Short Cut to Paradise - Barbados
• My Adventure on the wild side - Barbados
• How to find the bed of your dreams - Barbados
• My Barbados Love Affair - Barbados
• The Urban Spice Man - Grenada
• The island that time forgot - Nevis
• Heaven, no news for a week - St Lucia
• The Spice Island girl - Grenada
• Slow Time! - Grenada
• Star Grazing - Necker Island, Antigua
• Where Nelson won his spurs - Nevis
• Chill Out Caribbean - Spas
• Chicville-sur-mer - St Barts
• The Most Exclusive Island of All? - St Barts
• Spring into the Caribbean - St Barts
• Frightfully Fabulous - St Kitts
• I Love Lucia! - St Lucia
• So you want to live like a millionaire? - St Vincent & the Grenadines
• My perfect Martini - Turks and Caicos
• The plot thickens in Antigua - Antigua
• Sun, rum and my Mum - Caribbean
• Call me Anneka Spice - Grenada

A FEW YEARS AGO, going through a divorce, I decided to treat myself to a proper break. I knew that if I didn’t take myself off somewhere relaxing, I would probably fall apart.

I have fond memories of going to health farms years ago in England. You know the sort: gorgeous old country houses that have been turned into spas, where you shuffle around in white fluffy robes and slippers, curling up on squishy sofas with a great book, moving only when necessary – for your daily steam and massage, for meals and, if you absolutely must, for the odd exercise class.

At the time I was living in Connecticut and everyone said I had to go to Canyon Ranch in Massachusetts.

As soon as I got there, panic set in. Where were the tinkly music and flickering, scented candles? Where were the people in fluffy robes? Where were the squishy sofas? It was full of neurotic New Yorkers running through hallways in exercise gear. My time there was perhaps the most stressful five days of my life.

Since then I’ve remarried and find myself a wife and mother of four, and stepmother to two more. We are the modern Brady Bunch. We are very bad at taking holidays and permanently exhausted.

Spectaular views

‘Any chance of a honeymoon?’ I asked my husband, Ian, after our wedding in March.

‘Of course, darling,’ he replied. ‘Where do you want to go?’ I knew what that meant – it was never going to happen.

Then, with my latest novel, Girl Friday, due for release, my UK publicist called me, bubbling over with excitement .

‘What do you think of the idea of book clubs on holiday?’ she asked. ‘What does that mean?’ I responded dubiously.

‘Book groups travel together on holiday, there is an organised talk by the author, and they can meet other readers who have read the same book in hotels that support it.

‘We want you to do it in Antigua – so how would you and Ian fancy a honeymoon?’ ‘Book groups on holiday?’ I shouted. ‘Brilliant idea! Sheer genius!’

‘Two hotels!’ she said. ‘Both with spas!’

I had only ever been to Antigua to hop over to other Caribbean islands – but when I returned this time, the first thing I realised was just how beautiful it is. Lush and hilly, tropical and green. There are rainforests, through which you can traverse, ziplining from tree to tree. There is Stingray City, where you can feed stingrays in the water as they brush against your shins. Best of all, there is little else.

Our first hotel, the Verandah Resort and Spa, is a new all-inclusive resort, built adjacent to a nature reserve and perched high on a cliff. There are spectacular views, and its Spa Tranquility is the perfect place to relax .

The staff were superlative

As I entered the spa, I felt my heart-rate slow down immediately. This is more like it, I thought. No crazy New Yorkers, just quiet people shuffling around in robes. My masseuse led me into a quiet room where tinkly music was tinkling and ylang ylang and lavender was wafting.

‘How is the pressure?’ she asked, gently rubbing my back. ‘You can go a little bit harder,’ I responded.

It was the best massage I have ever had.

I went on to sample facials, manicures and pedicures. Every morning I would look out of the window and if there was a cloud in the sky I would decide it was a perfect opportunity for a spa treatment.

During my stay, I met Rob Barrett, chairman of Elite Island Resorts, which owns the Verandah. He is a big bear of a man, an American who has been in Antigua so long that even the Antiguans think of him as a local. His staff’s pleasure at working for him is apparent, as is their pleasure at pleasing you.

After a few days at Verandah, it was time to start the true honeymoon portion of our holiday and we moved to the other side of the island, to Galley Bay, which is also run by Elite Island Resorts.

Giorgio Armani has a house here, high on a cliff overlooking the bay and the beach. It is a low-slung villa with cascades of red flowers tumbling from oversized window boxes. He is a man of excellent taste and if I were to build a home in Antigua, I would say the spot Mr Armani has chosen is probably a pretty good place to start.

The bay is exactly as you hope it will be: clear, turquoise water, white sand and palm trees.

At the resort’s Ismay’s Restaurant, I tried the ital pumpkin stew – pumpkin and lentils, simmered gently with spices in coconut milk – and sampled some excellent fish at the Gauguin restaurant. As at the Verandah, the staff at Galley Bay are superlative. Manager James Lane joined us one night as we were discussing chocolate. American chocolate, I’m afraid, is just not the same as English, and we were discussing the merits of particular bars. I confessed to a secret passion for Crunchies, and how much I miss them now that I live in the United States.

On our final day there were four Crunchie bars waiting in reception for me. James had actually spoken to someone flying to Antigua from England and had asked them to bring me some.

Although none of the beaches in Antigua are private, the only people who bother you are the bartenders asking if they can get you another lime squash (even better with vodka added), or the man who runs watersports activities, seeing if he can tempt you on to a boat.

We allowed ourselves to be tempted.

It was perfection

We were dropped off at the secluded and beautiful Pinchin Bay with a cooler containing a lobster salad picnic lunch, a bottle of champagne, snorkelling gear and a mobile phone to let the boat crew know when to pick us up.

We lay in the sun, strolled up and down the beach collecting sea urchin shells, and snorkelled around the rocks looking at the fish and the lobsters, lazily waving their tentacles at us. It was perfection.

More so was the Spa Indulge at Galley Bay. Ian and I had a massage in an open treehouse, with white gauze curtains blowing in the breeze, and the only sounds were treefrogs and crickets in the surrounding forest.

I came back after a week feeling I had been away for a month, and having learned three things about myself: I need to take more holidays; the next time I need a spa, I won’t have to fly back to England, I can just pop over to Antigua; and I may have to go back to Canyon Ranch just to work off the Crunchies.