Bequia

Visiting the Old Hegg Turtle Sanctuary isn't your everyday island escapade-it's more like stumbling into a salty, sun-bleached episode of Planet Earth directed by an eccentric sea turtle whisperer. Nestled on the rugged shores of Park Bay, this sanctuary is less about pristine tanks and glossy brochures, and more about a scrappy, dedicated grassroots attempt to give endangered hawksbill turtles a fighting chance against the cruel roulette of oceanic odds. Your host, Orton "Brother" King-part marine biologist, part stubborn island sage-is known to regale visitors with sea-worn anecdotes and blunt eco-philosophy. For the best experience, drag yourself out there mid-morning, when the beach air is lazily warming up and Brother King's storytelling is in top form. Bring USD $10-20 for a donation (cash, not crypto), your curiosity (or skepticism), and patience for occasionally cryptic lessons in turtle conservation. While it might not be the conventional polished conservation park you expect, it's precisely the ramshackle charm, earnest passion, and unabashed eccentricity that make this a must-see stop on Bequia. If nothing else, you'll leave with a story that starts "So there I was, chatting with an island oracle surrounded by baby turtles..." and honestly, isn't that worth the price of admission?

Perched unassumingly above the charmingly haphazard streets of Hamilton, this pint-sized bastion known humbly as Hamilton Fort packs more punch in historical intrigue and panoramic drama than you might expect from such modest stonework. Dating back to a time when British naval charm collided splendidly with Caribbean stubbornness, the fortification's cannons-now rusted into retirement-once kept pirate egos and rival nations' dreams equally in check. Come in the gold-hued late afternoon when the tropic's heat eases up and the sun casts its Instagram-perfect glow across expansive views of the bay. Bring sunglasses, sunscreen, and sufficient irreverence for history, plus perhaps a chilled local brew snatched discreetly from nearby establishments. Plan a day or two ahead and budget a laughably nominal amount-mostly pocket change for transportation and the inevitable impulse purchase from street-side snack vendors peddling fried delights. Sure, you've likely seen bigger forts and more manicured battlements, but the authenticity, the quirky simplicity, and the smug satisfaction of casually dropping "Let me tell you about this tiny Caribbean fort I discovered..." into future dinner conversations makes Hamilton Fort absurdly worth your while.

Princess Margaret Beach sits tucked away like a Caribbean secret you begrudgingly share, an idyllic patch of sand named, perhaps somewhat cheekily, for the royal rebel herself-Princess Margaret, who reportedly once dipped her regal toes into these pristine waters in the 1950s, sparking rumors and whispers that still echo among amused locals. Located in the sleepy Belmont neighborhood, this crescent of soft sand and warm turquoise sea is best approached leisurely, like a good rum punch, arriving early in the morning or late afternoon to dodge midday crowds, which admittedly are rare but nevertheless mildly irritating when you're attempting your best royalty impression. Bring enough cash to indulge in a beachside cocktail or grilled lobster from one of the pop-up vendors (roughly 30 to 50 USD should cover your easily persuaded impulses). Pack sunscreen, a novel, and just enough irreverence-perhaps inspired by the princess herself-to make lounging here feel like a subtle act of rebellion against your inbox back home. Frankly, even if the pristine turquoise beauty doesn't sway you (and if it doesn't, I pity your jaded soul), Princess Margaret Beach offers something far richer: the satisfaction of casually mentioning at dinner parties that you've lounged languidly on Her Royal Highness's favorite Caribbean hideaway.

Friendship Bay Lime isn't just another postcard-ready beach hangout-it's the kind of scrappy, sun-bleached nook where expats swap slightly embellished tales and locals eye everyone with friendly suspicion. Prized on Bequia's southern coast, this spot kicks sand into ultra-polished resort beaches, delivering island charm with a side of sass. Sure, a British Navy captain probably anchored nearby centuries ago, rum-soaked and unsure of exactly who (or where) he was befriending, but today the friendship factor is genuine, fueled by ice-cold beer, reggae beats, and local chatter. Show up by mid-afternoon-when the breeze kicks in and the crowd finds its groove-and toss about $30 into your pocket for snacks and rum punch. No reservations, no dress code-just remember sunglasses, sunscreen, and a mildly skeptical appreciation for barefoot bartenders dispensing unsolicited yet strangely insightful life advice. Do it for the sunset, sure, but mostly go to Friendship Bay Lime for the characters you'll encounter and the stories you'll tell long after your tan fades.

If you've ever fantasized about drifting off to sleep aboard a gently swaying sailboat beneath Caribbean skies clear as gin (and just as intoxicating), an overnight sailing trip to the Tobago Cays is your ticket to nautical nirvana. Anchoring off these tiny, uninhabited islands-once a secret haunt for pirates and rum runners-is like stumbling upon the postcard-perfect backdrop you never believed actually existed. Set sail from Port Elizabeth in the early afternoon, ideally after lunch, to secure both prime anchorage and golden-hour bragging rights. Book at least a couple weeks ahead unless you're particularly comfortable bribing skippers with bottles of rum. Budget around $200-$300 per person, depending how comfortable you want your berth and how serious you take your meals-fresh-caught lobster, grilled on the beach by local boatmen, is worth every budgetary indiscretion. Pack mosquito repellent, sunscreen, and something surprisingly warm (trust me, beneath a sky this clear, nighttime breezes hit harder than Hemingway's hangover). Above all, don't forget your sense of wonder-watching phosphorescent plankton swirl beneath your dinghy or snorkeling alongside sea turtles at dawn makes the mild inconvenience of cramped quarters seem trivial. Even if sailing isn't exactly your cup of rum punch, the bragging rights alone-tales of midnight swims, shooting stars, and questionable pirate jokes-make this overnight escapade into the Tobago Cays marine park an experience you'll be insufferably smug about for years.