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- Jun 16, 2020
Sainte Jezebel wasn't your usual tourist spot. A small island nestled in the Eastern Caribbean, it had long remained the preserve of trust fund babies and nouveau riche superstars. It was the kind of place you parked your yacht. If you had to ask what Sainte Jezebel was, you couldn't afford it. And that was the sad truth.
But miracles do happen, and for a lucky few trudging through the myriad of travel sites on a rainy November afternoon, the miracle would happen to them. For an ad would pop up amidst the countless listings either too expensive or too crowded for consideration. An invitation to an island paradise like no other. Secluded white sand beaches. Lush floral paradises. Palms towering over the pathways. A full-service all-inclusive experience in which your every whim would be catered to. A place called the Celebration Sainte Jezebel (pronounced in the original French of course.) And if there was a lot of fine print, certainly whatever was written there was worth it at the incredible price.
And so, one such traveler would arrive on what at home would be a six foot snowstorm, but here nothing but sunshine and 95 degree bliss. The lobby of the Celebration was considerably cooler of course. Air conditioning was just one simple amenity among many. The lobby was a refuge of teak and marble, both distinguished and informal at the same time. It was peaceful as well, empty but for one lone woman behind a desk. As the traveler arrived, the perky and petite blue-eyed blonde rose and smiled, extending a hand. "Welcome to Celebration Sainte Jezebel. I'm Miriam, your concierge. How can I help you on this marvelous day?"
But miracles do happen, and for a lucky few trudging through the myriad of travel sites on a rainy November afternoon, the miracle would happen to them. For an ad would pop up amidst the countless listings either too expensive or too crowded for consideration. An invitation to an island paradise like no other. Secluded white sand beaches. Lush floral paradises. Palms towering over the pathways. A full-service all-inclusive experience in which your every whim would be catered to. A place called the Celebration Sainte Jezebel (pronounced in the original French of course.) And if there was a lot of fine print, certainly whatever was written there was worth it at the incredible price.
And so, one such traveler would arrive on what at home would be a six foot snowstorm, but here nothing but sunshine and 95 degree bliss. The lobby of the Celebration was considerably cooler of course. Air conditioning was just one simple amenity among many. The lobby was a refuge of teak and marble, both distinguished and informal at the same time. It was peaceful as well, empty but for one lone woman behind a desk. As the traveler arrived, the perky and petite blue-eyed blonde rose and smiled, extending a hand. "Welcome to Celebration Sainte Jezebel. I'm Miriam, your concierge. How can I help you on this marvelous day?"