It's the sheer misery of it. A night in a hotel with three charming children, all under six. Goodbye delightful relaxation in a chosen sanctuary. Hello, grim sufferance in an involuntary prison.
Yes, all hotels offer "a listening service", but I know of no child who is content with a pull-out bed and an off-the-hook phone for company. When you try to sneak off for your long-awaited glass of wine, chaos breaks out. Everyone immediately starts shouting and leaping out of bed. Go to sleep? In a strange hotel?
Opting to drag them downstairs in their pyjamas is even worse. You end up balancing them on your knee while trying to convince the rest of the restaurant that the presence of nippers alongside a gourmet dinner is really rather sweet. Thus, a relaxing stay becomes a horror film starring you, crouching miserably on a bed eating soup off a tray, and your partner, doomed to read Mog The Forgetful Cat to a small audience. Seven times. By the time you get home, you need a recovery spell in another hotel.
So the new phenomenon of private villas built within a hotel complex is utterly joyous. Add on the untold luxury of a Caribbean five-star resort, and you are talking parental heaven.
We arrived at the Four Seasons in Nevis and were given glasses of rum punch in the hotel lobby, all dark wood, whirring fans and perfect flowers, leading on to a terrace with infinity pool and a flawless view of the sea fringed by swaying palms. So, just like any other luxury Caribbean hotel.
However we had issues. To be precise, the issue was Gabriel (3) who had just been sick all over the transit van from the airport. Travelling with kids; so elegant. Anyway, because we were staying in one of the Four Seasons' villas, rather than a hotel bedroom, we could do all the freshening up we liked. Instead of sending a grim package off to the hotel laundry, we bunged his clothes into our washing machine and put the little chap into a bath, while I fed his two-month-old baby sister downstairs on the sofa. The next morning, when we all woke up horrendously early due to jet lag, I took the children out on the terrace, where we had a cup of hot chocolate while watching parrots greet the dawn, flying over the golf course.
Our duplex villa was functional, rather than glamorous, and entirely kitted out with American accoutrements. Nevis was once a British colony, but the Four Seasons, the island's biggest hotel and second largest employer, is wholly geared to the American market, which was my feeble explanation for putting washing powder in the dishwasher, causing a soapsud explosion across the kitchen floor. But if the white goods and 75% of the guests are American, so are the room sizes. Our three-bedroomed villa may have been one of the smallest in the resort, but it easily swallowed up our family of five; it would easily have taken two families.
The villas are all self-catering (you can book a hotel chef at $100 an hour). Alternatively, you can eat at the hotel, whose menu was predictably international, and very expensive, or guests can order provisions in advance (the list included classic Americanisms such as quarts of eggbeaters, and chicken broilers); we preferred to go to the market, where we picked up brightly coloured local fish and fabulous fruit. We also bought stuff that the children felt at home with, ie Cheerios and peanut butter. But although we were fending for ourselves on the food front, staff turned down the beds at night, and provided the sort of service one would expect from a Four Seasons; having been told of our new-born, a full array of baby bathtime gear was provided alongside the standard cot.
It's become a bit of a phenomenon; as the baby boomers get procreation well underway, flash hotels accustomed to catering for child-free couples are now faced with the task of making families happy. And if you don't want to venture into all-inclusive land, where your children are forensically removed from you at all hours between dawn and dusk, the villa-plus-hotel is a fabulous option.
It really is the best of both worlds; you have all the facilities of a hotel, with none of the necessary strictures, such as set meal times. Not only were there no fellow guests to get on your nerves, but crucially, you didn't have to worry about inflicting your children on anyone else's nerves, which is great if your progeny is of a, ahem, lively dispensation. During the day, we spent hours on pedalos off the beach, or in the bigger of the two pools, where kindly staff never seemed to tire of collecting the children's floats and boats. And then, when everyone was getting tired and cross, we simply bundled them up into a golf buggy and shot off back to our house.
Ah yes. Golf. Very big at the Four Seasons, which was great for one of our party. The hotel is built beside a championship course designed by Robert Trent Jones, and the villas are scattered around the 18 holes. Green fees are comparable with championship courses in the UK. What is not comparable is the danger from rogue local fruit; having teed off, my husband's golf bag was whacked by a rather major coconut.
Still, while he took off for a day's play (why is it such a long experience, please?), we spent a happy eight - or was it nine? - hours moseying around the villa, the hotel pool, the Kids' Club and the beach bar. The baby lay in her pram and gurgled in the shade; I vainly attempted post-natal situps with a man from the gym, and then wrecked it by gorging on ice-cream smoothies, and the kids amused themselves by tormenting a benign lizard on the veranda (don't worry, it eventually sped off).
When we felt like it, we dipped into the hotel goings-on. My five-year-old daughter and I went on a Nevis Night of Star-Gazing, led by an extremely wacky scientist, on the beach, during which we found Polaris, Pegasus and a rather large toad. And when we didn't feel like it, and wanted to give our hotel bill a rest (warning: it can tot up alarmingly quickly, even if you are self-catering), we chilled out, watching films on one of our three vast TVs and cooking beans on toast.
I know, it's a long way to go to cook beans on toast and have a potentially prophetic night spinning through Meet The Parents (as if we could ever be so ghastly!), and you could spend a fascinating week pottering around Nevis, whose sights include the world's only museum dedicated to Horatio Nelson. However, when the majority of your party is more interested with what the Tweenies did than what Nelson got up to, its quite tough to maintain the usual educated priorities of the discerning traveller.
We did once venture out at night, hiring a delightful hotel babysitter for the elder two (around $50 for the night). After two hours of an okay meal and a colicky infant on my lap, we retreated back to the pad. And the next day, we went on a Rain Forest Walk led by our astrologer, up the Nevis mountain, which apparently resembles its namesake, Ben Nevis. During this, we discovered a Moth Bat, a Robber Crab and various different sorts of edible leaf, all of which the children deemed disgusting. "I ain't eating that!" gasped Phoebe (five). You can take the kids out of Hackney, but you can't take Hackney... etc.
There's a new, $3m spa opening up in the hotel this year, boasting accoutrements such as Honey and Rum Wraps, and an Eight Nozzle Shower. Do I need to go any further? If you are an exhausted parent and want a holiday without either the guilt of leaving the little ones at home, or the equal pain of sharing a bedroom with them, this could be your Nirvana.
If you like the sound of that...
Le Yaca, San Tropez, France
(00534 9455 8100, hotel-le-yaca.fr). Garden villa from £650 a week. Converted private residence dating back to 1722 with an enclosed garden. Turned into a hotel after the war, it attracted Hollywood regulars such as Orson Welles, Tyrone Power and Greta Garbo.
Cliveden, Taplow, Berks
(01628 668561, clivedenhouse.co.uk). Spring Cottagesleeps up to six; two nights from £2,750. The one-time stately home of Lord and Lady Astor came to prominence 40 years ago during the Profumo affair. Splendid formal gardens that sweep down to the Thames.
Hotel Cabo San Lucas, Mexico
(001 323 512 3799, hotelcabo.com). Three-bedroom villa (sleeps six) starts at $731 a night. Three, five and seven-bedroom villas, some with pools. Hacienda-style buildings are right above Chileno Beach, one of the best diving spots in Los Cabos.
Elounda Beach Hotel & Villas, Crete
(0030 28410 41412/3, eloundabeach.gr). Abercrombie & Kent (0845 0700 620, abercrombiekent.co.uk) offers one week from £5,270 in an Aegean Villa for a family of five inc flights and private transfers. Variety of villas, bungalows and huge suites adjoining the hotel on Mirabello Bay.
Santa Marina Hotel, Mykonos
(0030 22890 23220, santa-marina.gr). Two-bedroom villa with private pool, from £5,684 per week excluding flights through Mediterranean Experience (020-8445 6000, themed.net). Situated on a private peninsula overlooking Ornos Bay, Santa Marina is a 20-acre complex. Villas have their own pools.
Way to go
Getting there: British Airways (0845 7733377, ba.com) flies to Nevis via Antigua from £712pp return including taxes).
ITC Classics (01244 355527, itcclassics.co.uk) offers a two-bedroom palm grove villa (accommodating two adults and two children) at the Four Seasons Resort Nevis for £6,108 (£1,527pp) including BA flights.
Further information: Nevis Island Tourist Office (0870 2001314, nevisisland.com), or the Caribbean Tourist Organisation (020-7222 4335, caribbean.co.uk).
Country code: 001 869. Flight time: London-Antigua 8hrs; Antigua-Nevis 20 mins. Time difference: GMT -4hrs. £1= 4.35 East Caribbean dollars.
