There are some places where, as soon as you arrive, you might as well have walked straight through the pearly white gates.  There are others where, even if only instinctively, you feel fire.  St. Barth is both.

My flight to the French West Indies happened, true to form, rather spontaneously: I woke one morning a week before my birthday, and realized that I still wasn’t sure how to properly celebrate… but I was sure that sunshine and a seashore wouldn’t hurt matters.  Decision decided.  I promptly packed my sandals and swimsuits while imagining a posh, gloriously gorgeous getaway, perfect for balancing out my small business stressors (as any biz owner knows, it’s not all smiles in entrepreneurship).

This was my first time to St. Barth; it always seemed like too much trouble to get there.  But that was before, when all I focused on were destinations.  It was before I knew about the ride.  Before I had journeys instead of trips, and fantastic friends in fun places.  Before I knew that bus, boat and taxi transfers can lead to unexpectedly interesting conversations as you ride from Point A to Point B.

It was one of those conversations that started my holiday, as I shared a cab with a beautiful French woman in her 60s, traveling from Paris.  Coincidentally, she was also a lawyer, and she was determined to experience any corner of this world that her wings would take her.  She couldn’t talk fast enough about her wanderlust, and her joy therefrom bounced off of her like light shining on water.

This, my friends, is one of the treasures of travel.

When you meet like-minded souls who share your longing for discovery, and your secret belief that so much is so possible, it’s like finding an old friend from your past and discovering that you still like them.  It takes a notable degree of optimism and blind faith to jump into a geographic adventure and, once you do, an entire community awaits you.  It feels a little like home.  And, considering I miss my friends and family more with every trip I take, I both love and look forward to that.

Refreshed by the important reminder, I arrived at St. Barth, greeted by the island’s unexpectedly raw scenery and its especially attractive community.  These are the more “heavenly” aspects of the place: lovely beaches, perfect temperature, secret natural swimming pools, pretty people, exclusivity.  It’s a paradise.  The contrast comes in with the other less angelic, but still fun, features: a spirited underground scene, sensuous nightlife, and no shortage of libations.  It’s a party.

To get the best of both worlds — and I encourage that you do — spend a day meeting new friends while lounging at Do Brazil (home of the Sunday Sunset party) at Shell Beach in Gustavia, support local commerce by indulging in a few goods at the neighboring boutique Lula & Me (owner Deborah is the loveliest), have dinner and drinks with your group at the Strand Supper Club, and make sure one of those dinner guests is a great DJ so you can dance for the rest of the night.  That is a good [birth]day.

Boats. Coast.

Swimming Pool

Sunday Sunset Beach Boys