You truly never know what might suddenly appear and photo-bomb the perfectly posed shot of an idyllic beachfront on the mysterious island of Mustique.

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Slick, from Mustique Moorings, dinghied over to our boat to welcome us to The Island.

"The fee is $200EC for one night" he explained. "But you can stay two more nights for free. You can drop your garbage off in the bins at the end of the dock, and we're the only island that recycles" he offered by way of explanation.

"Are there any restrictions at the moment?" Dave asked.

"It's low season now" replied Slick with a smile. Which means we were free to come and go as we pleased, and as there was no royalty around our cameras would not be hijacked the minute we stepped foot ashore.

"Everything's closed" continued Slick. "Basil's Bar is closed. You can eat at the local restaurant, The View, the white house up on the hill over there,



but they're closed today. There was a party last night and they're all tired and cleaning up today. You can also go to the Firefly, 5 minutes walk up that hill" he pointed up-that-a-way.

He handed us the receipt, and said "Enjoy your stay".

When Spanish sailors first sighted these small rocky islands they called them "Los Pájaros" (the birds) as they looked like a small flock of birds in flight. It was in the 17th century that the pirates, who used the sheltered bays to hide their treasure, renamed these islands The Grenadines.



"In 1958, Colin Tennant purchased Mustique. In 1960, Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon, the sister of Queen Elizabeth II, accepted as a wedding present his gift of a 10-acre (40,000 m2) plot of land, where she built a residence called Les Jolies Eaux. In 1979, Mustique Island was transformed from a family estate into a private limited company with the homeowners as shareholders".

The Island is owned by the Mustique Company (which is owned by the island's home owners) and home to 100 villas, all available for rent.

Today villa homeowners include the likes of Shania Twain (whose house is currently up for sale), Mick Jagger, Tommy Hilfiger to name but a few...

It wouldn't be an island without dangerous and perilous reefs now would it and in 1971, the SS Antilles struck a reef (on the Northern Tip of the Island) while attempting to navigate Lansecoy Bay, the impact rupturing a gas tank and starting a fire. Everyone was evacuated, and the ship sank.

"The burnt out hulk could not be freed from the reef, so the ship lay there for several months, eventually breaking in half. Many years later she would be scrapped on the spot and moved just a few hundred yards to her final resting place in the channel offshore Lansecoy Bay".

The wreck site is submerged off Mustique and is barely visible on Google Earth at 12°54' 04" N, 61°10' 44" W; the mast protrudes from the water during low tide."


This is some of the history behind Mustique, and hereunder is our photo-journey along the main road on this sunny beautiful morning, in an attempt to find just what the Mystique is all about.



The place was indeed deserted, and only the crabs on the white sandy beaches were around to greet us.



We made a sharp left turn and followed the one and only road down towards Basil's Bar, which was, as Slick had mentioned, closed and being renovated.



The well manicured landscape before our eyes was truly, in the morning sunshine, picture perfect,



everywhere we looked,



but let's not forget to pose for some fun, right?



We stopped to visit the store,



that held some pricey bottles of wine and knick-knacks that, dommage, wouldn't fit on a boat, and double dommage, Sweetie Pie, the bakery was also closed for a month, from mid-September to mid-October, so no Croissants au Chocolat for us.

We continued on,



giving the stairs a pass and choosing to stay on the road instead. Locals driving by offered us a lift, and just smiled when we thanked them and told them we would keep on walking... we needed the exercise!



At the top of the hill, we made some friends with the tortoises,



up close and personal,



and walked through the village of Lovell, the shacks on precarious stilts overlooking the lovely bay. Mustique has a population of about 500 local residents.

It was too early for the local restaurant, The View to serve us up some brunch, however the owner did invite us in... It was only 10:00 and we declined with promises to be back later, we had more walking to do.

Whad'y'aknow, the fruit and veggie stand is closed for the month as well,



and beyond, the fishermen were busy repairing their nets,



and the beachfront waters mesmerizingly clear as the slow and gentle surf washed over the sands.



We noticed recycling bins everywhere. We noticed barely noticeable entrances to driveways marked with "private, no trespassing" signs. We didn't have eyeviews of any outlandish villas, there were all perfectly hidden amidst the green leaf foliage.

Back down by the dinghy dock, we chose to keep on walking the other way and explore the beachfront,



that lies just in front of our home, trying to snap the perfect shot of the herons that were fishing along the shore,



and bend the trees a little more, why not?



Time to go back, and this time we turned inland and followed the sinewy road straight uphill, and sure enough, a very hot and sweaty 5 minutes later had us reaching the side street that led us to the privately owned entrance to The Firefly

The bartender invited us in, and said with a smile, "don't mind the construction", the building of some new rooms and a porch-patio overlooking the Bay.

Dave enjoyed a local beer ($15EC),



and although the various Mustique Cocktails sounded quite enticing ($40EC), it was way too early and I opted for some ice cold water instead.

We breathed in the lovely views and enjoyed the breezes coming across the open doors in posh surroundings chatting with the bartender and the workers. There is a current half price special on the rooms, only $500US per night if you were willing to put up with 7 a.m. construction noise.

Does this mean I belong to the Champagne Club ??



And so, if but for a moment, we were hob-knobbing it like the wealthy, rich and perhaps even famous peeps who come here for some time away in idyllic surroundings. The bartender confirmed that during peak business times, there be only standing room here.



He confirmed that they receive a list of guests on the island so they can prep and prepare in advance.

"And who owns that white villa on the top of the island there?" I asked, to which he respectfully provided a name, a "Mr So and So... He's into kitchens".

We smiled and nodded our heads... indeed, somehow, somewhere we strayed from the kitchen employment path that might have had us owning a villa here.

It was lunchtime and we were hungry, so it was time to head back down to the shore and dinghy home.



A home where for the moment we share the same views, in the same sparkling clear waters, and sometimes even sit in the same bar stools and couches, as might the rich and famous.

Dave BBQ'd us some Bubba Burgers nestled on toasted English Muffin buns and I served it up with Crispy Sweet Potato Patates Frites with Curried Mayo. Don't matter how you say it, it was delicious.

Below us in the crystal clear waters, we watched the schools of Blue Tangs and Sergeant Major fish swim aimlessly by, and knew that they didn't quite care what kind of wealth the people that walked above, had.