JEK
Senior Insider
(found while searching for more info on the Bell Tower! Nostalgic serendipity!)
CASTAWAYS ON A FRENCH ISLE
By Barbara Goldsmith; BARBARA GOLDSMITH is the author of several books, her most recent being ''Little Gloria . . . Happy at Last'' (Knopf).
Published: March 31, 1985
Greta Garbo never said ''I want to be alone,'' but rather ''I want to be left alone,'' a subtle but monumental difference. ''We did nothing,'' a frequently heard comment about St. Barthelemy, really means that there's nothing one feels compelled to do. You can choose to visit any of some 20 beaches, to sun, sail, snorkel, scuba dive, wind surf, to dine well, to shop. It's a fine place to pamper your psyche, a nice island for lovers. On St. Barths doing nothing nourishes.
There are a great many things St. Barths doesn't have. That's why habitues enjoy it so much. It doesn't have golf courses, or high- rise hotels, or nightclubs with ersatz native music, or gambling, or a chic social life. There are three rather ragged tennis courts, two public telephones and a television set or two on this eight-mile-square island. Occasionally, energetic day-trippers from St. Martin flood the dockside restaurants and French boutiques in Gustavia and a few die- hards turn up at the Lilliputian-size airport to buy the three-day-old International Herald Tribune, but most of the time a gentle torpor prevails.
St. Barths remains uncrowded. The 17-passenger Windward Air shuttle flight from St. Martin is guaranteed to get your adrenalin pumping in the 10 minutes it takes to hop over the mountains, bank steeply, cut the motors, swoop down through a tiny chasm in the hill, and halt abruptly on the diminutive runway a few feet short of the ocean. One can also arrive by boat.
Accommodations are limited to approximately 350 hotel rooms and some 100 rental properties, ranging in price from $900 a week for a modest bungalow to $5,000 for a plantation-type mansion with a pool, rented through the efficient and sympathetic Brook Lacour of Sibarth Real Estate. Mrs. Lacour's office in the rear of her La Cal eche boutique in Gustavia serves as a kind of informal gathering place where one can casually arrange dinner plans, rent a sailboat, or locate a baby sitter. Even the best accommodations are not sybaritic. The island depends largely on rain for its water and often two wanting to shower find they have only enough hot water for one. Bottled or boiled drinking water is recommended. Because St. Barths is so small, one can easily become acquainted with it with a sense of personal discovery.
On this volcanic island rocky hills covered with green rise steeply from broad white beaches. From the heights, there are views of craggy promontories, distant islands and an ocean where seemingly endless variations of blue smudge unevenly into the horizon, creating a sense of the infinity of space. Visitors in high-powered Jeep-like Gurgels or Mini- Mokes, with open sides and canvas roofs, roller coaster along roads so steep, hazardous and rocky that only a mountain goat would feel totally safe. One caution: unless you're an excellent driver, try to rent a room or a villa within walking distance of the beach. Otherwise, this may not be the island for you.
St. Barths (the h is silent) was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1493 during his second voyage and named for his brother, Bartholomew. It was settled by the French, ceded by Louis XVI to King Gustav III of Sweden in 1784, and reclaimed by the French in 1878. French is still the official language. The population of 3,000 is largely of Norman, Breton and Swedish descent. St. Barth's atmosphere is hybrid: the C^ote d'Azur grafted onto a Caribbean island. The cuisine and the boutiques are French and the harbor at Gustavia, sprinkled with small sailing craft and an occasional yacht, reminds one of St. Jean Cap Ferrat. However, the hummingbirds and pelicans, hibiscus and coconut palms, plantain and ackee, conch and coral, brilliant sunsets, even the evening invasion of black mosquitoes, attest that this is indeed a tropical island. The temperature varies from 75 to 90 degrees the year round; a totally cloudy day is unusual.
The prevailing atmosphere is strictly French laissez faire.
''In a whole week we managed not to make a single friend,'' exults the writer Kati Marton, who is married to the ABC-TV newscaster Peter Jennings. ''After a lunatic year, we left our two children with guiltless abandon to get away for a much needed and overdue time together. We felt like castaways living in a Gauguin world. We didn't plan anything, we just enjoyed the views and each other and shed the trauma of the fast-track life. In the mornings, the French maid came tiptoeing into our villa. What if we were naked? She'd seen it all before. When we boarded the Pan Am 747 at St. Martin, flashbulbs began to pop and a strange woman flung herself into Peter's lap. That's when I knew it was all over.''
Recently, Beverly Sills, general director of the New York City Opera, and her husband, Peter B. Greenough, a retired newspaper editor, also savored the romance of St. Barths. ''It was like a second honeymoon for us,'' says Miss Sills. ''Peter and I had extended privacy for the first time in years and years and years. We stayed in a double room at Les Castelets. Every morning, a picnic basket with hot baguettes of French bread, croissants, cheese, juice and coffee was placed outside our door. The weather was perfect; the view, 180 degrees of seascape. We chartered a sailboat skippered by two almost naked French girls who were fabulous sailors; we swam, we went to La Cave and bought some excellent French wines. Castelets' chef, an opera fan, made us a special dinner of fish tartare, beef en croute and, for dessert, a creamy reine de saba cake of sinfully delicious chocolate. Because the road to Castelets is so steep and dangerous, we didn't venture out much after dark. Peter and I talked more than we have in a long time. There was no pressure and no interruptions.''
(Page 2 of 3)
You don't have to be a celebrity to appreciate the special ambiance of St. Barths. At a sidewalk cafe in St. Jean at noon, some people eat breakfast while others have lunch. Although signs warn that nudity is forbidden on the beaches, it's commonplace. In town one wears what one likes. No one seems to care or notice. I took a suitcase full of clothes that I never opened. I did, however, purchase a big white, rubber beach bag with a plastic lining at La Fonda boutique in St. Jean, a cotton jumpsuit at La Cal eche, several sun hats, and St. Laurent earrings that I wore with my bathing suit, which made me feel quite raffish. I also bought French perfume at approximately two thirds the United States price, taking advantage of the fact that this is a free port. The strength of the dollar also serves to make prices seem reasonable, although the island cannot claim to provide a vacation at a bargain.
Places that are mundane at home seem exotic here. The pharmacies, especially a pristine, open- shelved one opposite the airport, provide a variety of unfamiliar French and Swiss cosmetics and notions in addition to over-the-counter drugs and sun inhibitors and accelerators. The supermarkets feature such items as champagne p^ate, oeufs en gelee, assorted French cheeses and yogurt, escargots en beurre, cr eme fra^iche and vacuum-packed milk. On the Gustavia wharf, there is an informal fruit and vegetable market where I purchased tiny succulent bananas, melons, pineapples and plantain. Admittedly I'm like the woman who told her husband that for their anniversary she wanted to go someplace she'd never been and he suggested the kitchen. Here, however, I broiled red snapper and served it with a hot pepper sauce, made a passable conch salad, and sauteed plantain, then flamed them with brandy.
Food seems to dominate any discussion of St. Barths, perhaps because there's really not much that happens externally to talk about and what happens internally seems unique and private. With the exception of Les Castelets, my husband, Frank Perry, and I found the food to be nice but not memorable. The service was leisurely but pleasant enough except for one lunch at Tamarin, a restaurant in a jungle-like clearing where the first morsel of food hit the table a full hour after we sat down. The island cuisine provides something for everyone, from the sloppy joe hamburgers, pommes frites, and pecan pie at Chez Francine, to the crunchy pizza at Topolino, to the classic French fare at Au Port and Flamboyant, to the Creole dishes served on the veranda of a small private home, Les Bougainvilliers. Even so, one way to enjoy the island is to rent your own bungalow or villa with a kitchen. Often, we ate dinner at our villa, then stretched out under a sky more brilliant than any show at the Hayden Planetarium.
Frank and I made our own discoveries. He was exhausted, having just finished directing a film, and wanted to do ''nothing.'' For us that meant lazing, reading, swimming and sitting on a beach.
Each day we tried a different one. Saline, with its invigorating surf; the almost deserted Gouverneur; Lorient, Grand Cul-de-Sac. We hiked to Colombier - not accessible by road - only to find that several dozen people had arrived by boat. Events seemed to happen serendipitously. We'd wandered into the local bakery in Gustavia and emerged with a beach picnic of saucisson chaud in filo strudel (the local equivalent of a hot dog), which we ate accompanied by chilled white wine and Evian water. One lunch found us at Taiwana on the beach at Flamands where we enjoyed the cold lobster salad and watching the social maneuverings of the nearly naked. That night, we had a pleasant fish dinner followed by a choice of 14 desserts at Au Port.
Without any plan whatsoever, we managed to tour the entire island, visit the town of Corossol, where women in traditional Norman bonnets dating from the 17th century proferred handmade straw goods, wander through an old Swedish cemetery and hike to the site of an extinct volcano.
Late one afternoon we arrived at Petit Cul- de-Sac where we sat on the sun-warmed white sand of the deserted beach watching the pelicans soar through the air, dive into the water and come up with sparkling silver fish in their beaks. In the background, the sun slowly rolled itself into a huge scarlet ball and descended gently into the sea.
It's clear that different people enjoy this island for very different reasons. For Susan Calhoun and her husband, Charles Moss, the delight of their vacation was never eating or sleeping at the expected time. Woody Heller, a bachelor of 25, went to St. Barths to celebrate the closing of a real estate deal. He, too, said he did nothing, unless one counts scuba diving with two experts from the scuba school on the Gustavia wharf, trying a variety of restaurants, making several new friends, playing volleyball on the beach, and enjoying the night life at Le Must discoth eque and at the Autour du Rocher Hotel.
Perhaps 9-year-old Jamie Patricoff sums up the spirit of St. Barths most completely. Jamie, who for several years has been visiting St. Barths with his parents, Alan and Susan Patricoff, and his 12-year-old brother, Jonathan, says: ''You can do anything you want without asking anyone. I love the views, the beaches, the fresh-baked bread, snorkeling and wind surfing at Lafayette Beach. I like it that a lot of people aren't wearing shoes at the airport. Right away you belong and feel it's your island. You can be alone or with other people. And where else can you see four rainbows in an hour just by sitting on your porch?''
(Page 3 of 3)
The current high-season daily rates listed here are reduced when the low season begins April 16. Often the reductions are around 30 percent but in some cases, as at the Castelets, they can be as much as 50 percent.
The Castelets (Morne Lurin, Gustavia, St. Barthelemy; telephone 27.61.73). This hilltop hotel has six rooms and two private villas. A double room costs $110 to $260 a day. A villa for 1 to 4 people costs $425 to $660. Castelets has ''an extremely refined dining room that combines sophisticated French cooking with native traditions'' (Craig Claiborne).
Filao Beach Hotel (B.P. 167, Gustavia 97133, St. Barthelemy 27.64.84) is on St. Jean Bay. Its 30 bungalows, furnished in wood and bamboo, are grouped near the beach in a crescent around a flower garden, All have private terraces. Freshwater pool with luncheon bar. Double room at $160 includes breakfast and taxi to and from the airport.
Hotel Manapany (B.P. 114, Anse des Cayes, 97133 St. Barthelemy; 27.66.55) is a new hotel with 20 two-bedroom, two-bath cottages on a hillside leading down to the beach. All accommodations have sea views and terraces. A double room is $170, a one-bedroom suite is $250, and a cottage for 2 to 4 people is $420. Its restaurant serves local specialties and classic French cuisine.
El Sereno Beach Hotel (Grand Cul de Sac, St. Barthelemy; 27.60.80), has 20 rooms built around a garden, each with a private walled- in patio. It has a pool and is near a small swimming cove and water-sports facilities. A double costs $147 to $160. The hotel's restaurant, La Toque Lyonnaise, offers a variety of French dishes, and there is a good wine list.
Taiwana Club (B.P. 61, Baie des Flamands, St. Barthelemy; 27.65.01 or 27.63.82). The Taiwana has only nine rooms in a cluster of four gingerbread houses. Pool, tennis court and informal restaurant overlooking about a mile of white beach. A double is about $450- $550 a day year round. Rates are not reduced in summer. Restaurants The Taiwana Club, which serves lunch only, prepares local produce simply. Some specialties are charcoal broiled fresh fish or lobster, barbecued pork, roast chicken, salads. Lunch for two with wine and drinks, about $80.
Au Port (Rue Sadi Carnot, Gustavia; 27.62.36). This is an upstairs restaurant with a harbor view. Among the offerings are foie gras, roast lamb with garlic cream and lobster medaillons steamed in champagne with saffron. Open evenings only; closed Sunday from January to April. Reservations suggested. Dinner for two with wine is $50 to $60.
Le Flamboyant (Grand Cul de Sac; 27.64.09), is an unpretentious restaurant in a rustic house perched on a hill. The French menu is rounded out by a Creole plat du jour. It serves dinner only, and is closed Tuesday. Dinner for two with wine is about $30.
Les Bougainvilliers (near the Old Bell Tower in Gustavia; no telephone), offers Creole cooking, prepared by the owner, Armanda Hughes. Dinner for two with wine, about $30.
Chez Francine (St. Jean Beach; 27.60.49), which overlooks St. Jean Bay, is a luncheon restaurant that attracts a casual crowd of beachgoers. Fresh lobster, shish kebab and a tarte citron are usually available. Closed Sunday. About $20-$25 for two with wine.
CASTAWAYS ON A FRENCH ISLE
By Barbara Goldsmith; BARBARA GOLDSMITH is the author of several books, her most recent being ''Little Gloria . . . Happy at Last'' (Knopf).
Published: March 31, 1985
Greta Garbo never said ''I want to be alone,'' but rather ''I want to be left alone,'' a subtle but monumental difference. ''We did nothing,'' a frequently heard comment about St. Barthelemy, really means that there's nothing one feels compelled to do. You can choose to visit any of some 20 beaches, to sun, sail, snorkel, scuba dive, wind surf, to dine well, to shop. It's a fine place to pamper your psyche, a nice island for lovers. On St. Barths doing nothing nourishes.
There are a great many things St. Barths doesn't have. That's why habitues enjoy it so much. It doesn't have golf courses, or high- rise hotels, or nightclubs with ersatz native music, or gambling, or a chic social life. There are three rather ragged tennis courts, two public telephones and a television set or two on this eight-mile-square island. Occasionally, energetic day-trippers from St. Martin flood the dockside restaurants and French boutiques in Gustavia and a few die- hards turn up at the Lilliputian-size airport to buy the three-day-old International Herald Tribune, but most of the time a gentle torpor prevails.
St. Barths remains uncrowded. The 17-passenger Windward Air shuttle flight from St. Martin is guaranteed to get your adrenalin pumping in the 10 minutes it takes to hop over the mountains, bank steeply, cut the motors, swoop down through a tiny chasm in the hill, and halt abruptly on the diminutive runway a few feet short of the ocean. One can also arrive by boat.
Accommodations are limited to approximately 350 hotel rooms and some 100 rental properties, ranging in price from $900 a week for a modest bungalow to $5,000 for a plantation-type mansion with a pool, rented through the efficient and sympathetic Brook Lacour of Sibarth Real Estate. Mrs. Lacour's office in the rear of her La Cal eche boutique in Gustavia serves as a kind of informal gathering place where one can casually arrange dinner plans, rent a sailboat, or locate a baby sitter. Even the best accommodations are not sybaritic. The island depends largely on rain for its water and often two wanting to shower find they have only enough hot water for one. Bottled or boiled drinking water is recommended. Because St. Barths is so small, one can easily become acquainted with it with a sense of personal discovery.
On this volcanic island rocky hills covered with green rise steeply from broad white beaches. From the heights, there are views of craggy promontories, distant islands and an ocean where seemingly endless variations of blue smudge unevenly into the horizon, creating a sense of the infinity of space. Visitors in high-powered Jeep-like Gurgels or Mini- Mokes, with open sides and canvas roofs, roller coaster along roads so steep, hazardous and rocky that only a mountain goat would feel totally safe. One caution: unless you're an excellent driver, try to rent a room or a villa within walking distance of the beach. Otherwise, this may not be the island for you.
St. Barths (the h is silent) was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1493 during his second voyage and named for his brother, Bartholomew. It was settled by the French, ceded by Louis XVI to King Gustav III of Sweden in 1784, and reclaimed by the French in 1878. French is still the official language. The population of 3,000 is largely of Norman, Breton and Swedish descent. St. Barth's atmosphere is hybrid: the C^ote d'Azur grafted onto a Caribbean island. The cuisine and the boutiques are French and the harbor at Gustavia, sprinkled with small sailing craft and an occasional yacht, reminds one of St. Jean Cap Ferrat. However, the hummingbirds and pelicans, hibiscus and coconut palms, plantain and ackee, conch and coral, brilliant sunsets, even the evening invasion of black mosquitoes, attest that this is indeed a tropical island. The temperature varies from 75 to 90 degrees the year round; a totally cloudy day is unusual.
The prevailing atmosphere is strictly French laissez faire.
''In a whole week we managed not to make a single friend,'' exults the writer Kati Marton, who is married to the ABC-TV newscaster Peter Jennings. ''After a lunatic year, we left our two children with guiltless abandon to get away for a much needed and overdue time together. We felt like castaways living in a Gauguin world. We didn't plan anything, we just enjoyed the views and each other and shed the trauma of the fast-track life. In the mornings, the French maid came tiptoeing into our villa. What if we were naked? She'd seen it all before. When we boarded the Pan Am 747 at St. Martin, flashbulbs began to pop and a strange woman flung herself into Peter's lap. That's when I knew it was all over.''
Recently, Beverly Sills, general director of the New York City Opera, and her husband, Peter B. Greenough, a retired newspaper editor, also savored the romance of St. Barths. ''It was like a second honeymoon for us,'' says Miss Sills. ''Peter and I had extended privacy for the first time in years and years and years. We stayed in a double room at Les Castelets. Every morning, a picnic basket with hot baguettes of French bread, croissants, cheese, juice and coffee was placed outside our door. The weather was perfect; the view, 180 degrees of seascape. We chartered a sailboat skippered by two almost naked French girls who were fabulous sailors; we swam, we went to La Cave and bought some excellent French wines. Castelets' chef, an opera fan, made us a special dinner of fish tartare, beef en croute and, for dessert, a creamy reine de saba cake of sinfully delicious chocolate. Because the road to Castelets is so steep and dangerous, we didn't venture out much after dark. Peter and I talked more than we have in a long time. There was no pressure and no interruptions.''
(Page 2 of 3)
You don't have to be a celebrity to appreciate the special ambiance of St. Barths. At a sidewalk cafe in St. Jean at noon, some people eat breakfast while others have lunch. Although signs warn that nudity is forbidden on the beaches, it's commonplace. In town one wears what one likes. No one seems to care or notice. I took a suitcase full of clothes that I never opened. I did, however, purchase a big white, rubber beach bag with a plastic lining at La Fonda boutique in St. Jean, a cotton jumpsuit at La Cal eche, several sun hats, and St. Laurent earrings that I wore with my bathing suit, which made me feel quite raffish. I also bought French perfume at approximately two thirds the United States price, taking advantage of the fact that this is a free port. The strength of the dollar also serves to make prices seem reasonable, although the island cannot claim to provide a vacation at a bargain.
Places that are mundane at home seem exotic here. The pharmacies, especially a pristine, open- shelved one opposite the airport, provide a variety of unfamiliar French and Swiss cosmetics and notions in addition to over-the-counter drugs and sun inhibitors and accelerators. The supermarkets feature such items as champagne p^ate, oeufs en gelee, assorted French cheeses and yogurt, escargots en beurre, cr eme fra^iche and vacuum-packed milk. On the Gustavia wharf, there is an informal fruit and vegetable market where I purchased tiny succulent bananas, melons, pineapples and plantain. Admittedly I'm like the woman who told her husband that for their anniversary she wanted to go someplace she'd never been and he suggested the kitchen. Here, however, I broiled red snapper and served it with a hot pepper sauce, made a passable conch salad, and sauteed plantain, then flamed them with brandy.
Food seems to dominate any discussion of St. Barths, perhaps because there's really not much that happens externally to talk about and what happens internally seems unique and private. With the exception of Les Castelets, my husband, Frank Perry, and I found the food to be nice but not memorable. The service was leisurely but pleasant enough except for one lunch at Tamarin, a restaurant in a jungle-like clearing where the first morsel of food hit the table a full hour after we sat down. The island cuisine provides something for everyone, from the sloppy joe hamburgers, pommes frites, and pecan pie at Chez Francine, to the crunchy pizza at Topolino, to the classic French fare at Au Port and Flamboyant, to the Creole dishes served on the veranda of a small private home, Les Bougainvilliers. Even so, one way to enjoy the island is to rent your own bungalow or villa with a kitchen. Often, we ate dinner at our villa, then stretched out under a sky more brilliant than any show at the Hayden Planetarium.
Frank and I made our own discoveries. He was exhausted, having just finished directing a film, and wanted to do ''nothing.'' For us that meant lazing, reading, swimming and sitting on a beach.
Each day we tried a different one. Saline, with its invigorating surf; the almost deserted Gouverneur; Lorient, Grand Cul-de-Sac. We hiked to Colombier - not accessible by road - only to find that several dozen people had arrived by boat. Events seemed to happen serendipitously. We'd wandered into the local bakery in Gustavia and emerged with a beach picnic of saucisson chaud in filo strudel (the local equivalent of a hot dog), which we ate accompanied by chilled white wine and Evian water. One lunch found us at Taiwana on the beach at Flamands where we enjoyed the cold lobster salad and watching the social maneuverings of the nearly naked. That night, we had a pleasant fish dinner followed by a choice of 14 desserts at Au Port.
Without any plan whatsoever, we managed to tour the entire island, visit the town of Corossol, where women in traditional Norman bonnets dating from the 17th century proferred handmade straw goods, wander through an old Swedish cemetery and hike to the site of an extinct volcano.
Late one afternoon we arrived at Petit Cul- de-Sac where we sat on the sun-warmed white sand of the deserted beach watching the pelicans soar through the air, dive into the water and come up with sparkling silver fish in their beaks. In the background, the sun slowly rolled itself into a huge scarlet ball and descended gently into the sea.
It's clear that different people enjoy this island for very different reasons. For Susan Calhoun and her husband, Charles Moss, the delight of their vacation was never eating or sleeping at the expected time. Woody Heller, a bachelor of 25, went to St. Barths to celebrate the closing of a real estate deal. He, too, said he did nothing, unless one counts scuba diving with two experts from the scuba school on the Gustavia wharf, trying a variety of restaurants, making several new friends, playing volleyball on the beach, and enjoying the night life at Le Must discoth eque and at the Autour du Rocher Hotel.
Perhaps 9-year-old Jamie Patricoff sums up the spirit of St. Barths most completely. Jamie, who for several years has been visiting St. Barths with his parents, Alan and Susan Patricoff, and his 12-year-old brother, Jonathan, says: ''You can do anything you want without asking anyone. I love the views, the beaches, the fresh-baked bread, snorkeling and wind surfing at Lafayette Beach. I like it that a lot of people aren't wearing shoes at the airport. Right away you belong and feel it's your island. You can be alone or with other people. And where else can you see four rainbows in an hour just by sitting on your porch?''
(Page 3 of 3)
The current high-season daily rates listed here are reduced when the low season begins April 16. Often the reductions are around 30 percent but in some cases, as at the Castelets, they can be as much as 50 percent.
The Castelets (Morne Lurin, Gustavia, St. Barthelemy; telephone 27.61.73). This hilltop hotel has six rooms and two private villas. A double room costs $110 to $260 a day. A villa for 1 to 4 people costs $425 to $660. Castelets has ''an extremely refined dining room that combines sophisticated French cooking with native traditions'' (Craig Claiborne).
Filao Beach Hotel (B.P. 167, Gustavia 97133, St. Barthelemy 27.64.84) is on St. Jean Bay. Its 30 bungalows, furnished in wood and bamboo, are grouped near the beach in a crescent around a flower garden, All have private terraces. Freshwater pool with luncheon bar. Double room at $160 includes breakfast and taxi to and from the airport.
Hotel Manapany (B.P. 114, Anse des Cayes, 97133 St. Barthelemy; 27.66.55) is a new hotel with 20 two-bedroom, two-bath cottages on a hillside leading down to the beach. All accommodations have sea views and terraces. A double room is $170, a one-bedroom suite is $250, and a cottage for 2 to 4 people is $420. Its restaurant serves local specialties and classic French cuisine.
El Sereno Beach Hotel (Grand Cul de Sac, St. Barthelemy; 27.60.80), has 20 rooms built around a garden, each with a private walled- in patio. It has a pool and is near a small swimming cove and water-sports facilities. A double costs $147 to $160. The hotel's restaurant, La Toque Lyonnaise, offers a variety of French dishes, and there is a good wine list.
Taiwana Club (B.P. 61, Baie des Flamands, St. Barthelemy; 27.65.01 or 27.63.82). The Taiwana has only nine rooms in a cluster of four gingerbread houses. Pool, tennis court and informal restaurant overlooking about a mile of white beach. A double is about $450- $550 a day year round. Rates are not reduced in summer. Restaurants The Taiwana Club, which serves lunch only, prepares local produce simply. Some specialties are charcoal broiled fresh fish or lobster, barbecued pork, roast chicken, salads. Lunch for two with wine and drinks, about $80.
Au Port (Rue Sadi Carnot, Gustavia; 27.62.36). This is an upstairs restaurant with a harbor view. Among the offerings are foie gras, roast lamb with garlic cream and lobster medaillons steamed in champagne with saffron. Open evenings only; closed Sunday from January to April. Reservations suggested. Dinner for two with wine is $50 to $60.
Le Flamboyant (Grand Cul de Sac; 27.64.09), is an unpretentious restaurant in a rustic house perched on a hill. The French menu is rounded out by a Creole plat du jour. It serves dinner only, and is closed Tuesday. Dinner for two with wine is about $30.
Les Bougainvilliers (near the Old Bell Tower in Gustavia; no telephone), offers Creole cooking, prepared by the owner, Armanda Hughes. Dinner for two with wine, about $30.
Chez Francine (St. Jean Beach; 27.60.49), which overlooks St. Jean Bay, is a luncheon restaurant that attracts a casual crowd of beachgoers. Fresh lobster, shish kebab and a tarte citron are usually available. Closed Sunday. About $20-$25 for two with wine.
