02 May 2024

Antigua

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Me and my boys on ash cloud nine

Piers Morgan picks Antigua for his first holiday with just his sons – and enjoys a bonding bonus thanks to that volcano.

Antigua - Palm fringed perfection at Jumby Bay

Antigua - The elegant and luxurious Jumby Bay

1 My true heaven, Jumby Bay 2 Palm fringed perfection 3 The elegant and luxurious Jumby Bay

IT WAS A MOMENTOUS decision to have my first-ever holiday alone with my three sons. No family members to help me out. Just me, 16-year-old Spencer, Stanley, 12, and Bertie, nine. My chosen destination was familiar to us, Antigua.

We’d been there many times, entranced by the gentle pace of life, the intimacy (only 80,000 inhabitants) and the happy character of the locals.

The resort I picked was new to us. Jumby Bay, a Rosewood Resort, is a 300-acre private paradise on a tiny island off the northwest tip of the main island. We’d sailed past a few times, and been intrigued by what looked to be the ultimate desert island retreat. It’s where Sir Paul McCartney has spent New Year.

The plan was for me to fly in from America, where I was filming America’s Got Talent, and the boys would come out from England.

Anyone with sons this age will know the biggest threat to their safety would come from themselves in this situation – there was a high risk of one clubbing another with a food tray over the Atlantic!

FRIDAY: I flew in to Antigua from Orlando and was met at the airport by a white-suited team from Jumby Bay.

Within ten minutes I was in the lobby of the resort, after a two-minute taxi ride and six-minute boat trip. I was greeted by Andrew Hedley, the quintessentially British new managing director of Jumby Bay.

I knew Andrew from his previous job running another luxurious Antigua resort, Carlisle Bay, and was curious as to why he’d moved.

The ultimate desert island retreat

‘You’ll see,’ he smiled. Jumby Bay has recently had a £20million refurbishment. It features just 40 suites, with a further 50 privately-owned lavish homes on the island, some of which can be rented for short stays.

As I was driven in a golf buggy to my suite, my first thought was space. Endless manicured lawns. And lots of bikes. Everyone gets around by either bicycle or buggy. My room, or the Rosewood Estate Suite to be precisie, lay in a quiet corner of the island. I opened the main door and found myself in a large flower-festooned stone courtyard with sprinkling fountain.

To the left was an office – all rooms have free high-speed wi-fi – and a kitchen with giant fridge and all the mod cons you’d need for any self-catering you might fancy. Ahead was a door to a vision of opulence – a sitting area with a vast L-shaped sofa, a 50in plasma TV, iPod docking station, Bose sound system and another well-stocked fridge.

The perfect lads’ holiday screening room! The main bedroom housed a glorious four-poster mosquito-netted bed and a second TV, walk-in wardrobe and bathroom with walk-in shower, and a second, smaller courtyard containing an outdoor shower and Jacuzzi bath.

Outside was a patio overlooking a stunning private infinityedged pool, less than 100ft from the sea, and a perfect beach. This had to be one of the best hotel suites I’ve ever seen. The next-door connecting suite was available, so the boys had that.

SATURDAY: The boys arrived safely and unharmed. ‘Oh. My. God,’ they whistled, in rare harmony as they entered the suite. ‘This is soooooo cool.’ ‘Let’s go for a bike ride,’ I suggested, banishing thoughts of my last bike ride, in California, which had ended with me breaking ribs.

Experience freedom and exhilaration

We set off round the island and after ten minutes I began to experience a sense of freedom and exhilaration that I haven’t had on holiday for years.

Snaking up and down tree-lined paths with my sons, wind in our hair, sea air in our lungs, laughing our heads off.

SUNDAY: A quiet day was enlivened by the arrival of a giant, foot-long crab in the suite, greeted with screams of terror from the boys and eventually removed with a collection of shoes and cushions.

MONDAY: As a little surprise for the boys, I’d contacted Carlisle Bay and arranged for their two favourite boat guys, Hugh and Prince, to come and pick us up for a day’s fishing and snorkelling.

TUESDAY: When it rains in Antigua it doesn’t just pour, it torrents. But the boys just carried on swimming, fishing, biking and fighting as normal, allowing me to sit under a large thatched umbrella on the beach and read a John Grisham thriller.

WEDNESDAY: Keen Arsenal season ticket-holders, we saw our team lose to bitter rivals Spurs. But our misery was diverted by latebreaking news from Iceland that an erupting volcano had started spewing ash into UK airspace, which could mean flights being cancelled. ‘GREAT!’ cried my sons in unison.

THURSDAY: The boys have been fishing off the end of Jumby Bay’s jetty for a few hours every day.

Today they hauled in a host of snappers and groupers, which we ate for dinner. The volcanic-ash drama is escalating, with all flights cancelled in and out of the UK.

The boys discover the last time it erupted, in 1812, it carried on for a year. ‘Does this mean we’re going to have to live in Antigua for a year?’ asked Bertie, hope blazing in his eyes.

FRIDAY: The boys’ flight home tomorrow has been cancelled, with no word on when it may fly. I bumped into an old friend, London society king and Liz Hurley’s best mate William Cash.

In true Brit style, we sought solace from this natural disaster in champagne cocktails under twinkling stars and palm trees.

SATURDAY: ‘Fancy some sailing?’ asked Andrew Hedley. ‘Weather forecast is pretty good.’ At English Harbour, we boarded the pretty 40ft Ondeck Ocean Racing Beneteau sailboat and floated out into calm seas and blue skies, my boys excitedly taking turns at the wheel under the watchful eye of Antigua’s only female captain, the delightful Nicky.

But shortly after I took the helm, the waves got bigger and a torrential downpour began. The boys fled to the cabin, leaving me, Andrew, Nicky and Marshall, the deckhand, to handle the storm.

Once your head registers that it’s virtually impossible for the boat to flip over unless the waves reach 40ft (ours were abouy 10ft), then guiding it through a squall was actually great fun.

As it eased and the boys returned on deck, I could definitely see a look of rare genuine admiration in my sons’ eyes.

SUNDAY: I’d been visiting the gym but it didn’t show. The problem with Jumby Bay is that all meals, champagne and cocktails are included in the price.

I can’t imagine many better than Jumby Bay

There are two main restaurants, the Verandah (informal) and the Estate House (slightly posher), and the food is seriously good.

My guilty pleasure was the beach bar, where matriarch Elaine has been in charge for 20 years. I explained we were trapped by a volcano. ‘So you’re stuck in paradise?’ she replied. ‘And you’re COMPLAINING?’ She had a point.

MONDAY: By late afternoon it was revealed that flights were due to start from Tuesday night.

My filming was to begin again in New York on Wednesday, so I had no choice but to leave Antigua with the boys and then get them home from there, ash permitting. In terms of a place to be trapped through a volcano eruption, I can’t imagine many better than Jumby Bay.

And in terms of father-son bonding, it was the best ten days of my life. ‘I never thought Iceland could bring so much pleasure,’ observed Stanley.

The other nodded their agreement. Then we got back on the bikes and shot off round the island again.

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