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As I journey on a boat from the isle of Sint Maarten to Anguilla, through turquoise waters and vistas of lush hills and valleys, I’m nursing the tail end of a stubborn cold—and praying no one notices. I am one of just a few solo travelers on the charter; the rest is a combination of couples on anniversary trips and friends looking to sip leisurely from spiked coconuts in the sand. The sun heats my skin through my ill-chosen long sleeve, and I turn towards the salt spray, hoping it will work some healing magic before we arrive. Thankfully, the journey across the Anguillan Channel is smooth, scenic, and just 25 minutes long.
As we shuffle off the boat into the sunshine and ocean mist, staff take our bags and usher us kindly into immigration. No more than 15 minutes later, our passports are stamped, signifying our official arrival to the small isle of Anguilla. Before it’s too late, I squirrel away to the bathroom to hoard toilet tissue in my pocket for the drive to my final destination: Cap Juluca, a Belmond Hotel.
Soon, I’m being ushered through the arched ceilings, whitewashed stone, and open-air expanse of the Main House, where I’m greeted with a signature mocktail: the Star of Juluca with freshly squeezed starfruit juice, sparkling water, and a dash of Ting soda. Surreptitiously, I slide my feet against the cool locally-made tiles in the lobby while I take in the view. The hotel stretches along the crescent-shaped Maundays Bay, with white Greco-Moorish villas—each with its own courtyard—nestled between picture-postcard Caribbean palm trees.
The laid-back vibe, I decide, is designed to encourage the fact that I’m currently barefoot on those aforementioned tiles—and my plan for the next few days is to avoid interrupting these beautiful surroundings with my ill-timed sickness, and to take everything in quietly from the sidelines. But what I quickly learn about Cap Juluca and its staff is that while they do want you to relax and enjoy the wonders of the hotel, the more important thing is that they really want you to be well.
So I discovered on my first afternoon, after heading down to one of the resort’s powder-soft white sand beaches for some R&R. Having noticed me tossing and turning on my lounge chair, the trusty beach attendant Keanu (so named because of his mother’s fondness for Keanu Reeves, I later learn) clocks my congestion. He asked if I’d been in the ocean—I had, of course—but had I tried ‘dunking my head to let the salt water clear my sinuses’? I… had not. Keanu promptly marched me back to the beach to show me how it was done. The next thing I knew, I was dunking so quickly that I nearly got whiplash, but of course, he was right: I immediately felt just that little bit better.
The following day, hotel manager Eleonore notices me holding in a slight cough as I laugh over breakfast. As if by magic, I leave with a homemade ginger shot made by one of the chefs, Shauntel. Don’t ask me what was in it—it was spicy, sour, sweet, and then spicy again. That evening, ginger tea is delivered to my room and at breakfast the next morning, another one of Shauntel’s ginger concoction awaits me.
Of course, there are few places in the world quite as lovely to be recuperating from a cold as Cap Juluca. Located on the western end of the bay where rooms are the most secluded, my accommodations offered direct ocean views with my own private terrace. Through my shower, a private sunbathing area with a lounge chair was perfectly placed for catching sun.
What makes Cap Juluca unique, too, is the fact it doesn’t feel like a five-star resort that is hermetically sealed off from its surroundings—once they notice your curiosity around the local culture has been piqued, they’ll do everything in their power to showcase it. While having lunch at the hotel’s Peruvian restaurant Uchu (don’t miss the Ceviche Carretillero, which blends the freshest catch of the day with tangy tiger milk, crispy squid, and Andean corn), I strike up a spirited conversation with servers Yasmine and Manuela about which roadside spot serves the best barbecue chicken. (And of course, I leave lunch with a new beach accessory: a turquoise blue Kleenex box that matches the complimentary ice coolers.) For those who prefer not to slowly roast on the beach like one of those barbecue chickens—or at least those who want to make the most of the many complimentary activities on offer—Cap Juluca has plenty to keep you occupied: snorkeling, sailing, kayaking, an early morning fishing trip with local legend Shawn, or sailing to the Prickly Pear Cays, to name a few.
I was happy to be a sick sand bug while there—with one exception. The main reason I was visiting Cap Juluca was for a visit to the hotel’s new Guerlain Spa, unveiled earlier this year. Drawing inspiration from the Arawak tribe native to Anguilla, treatments at the expansive new wellness center focus on three essentials: water, salt, and botanicals — and with seven serene treatment rooms, a wellness suite, an infinity pool, multi-temperature plunge pools, and a sauna, the spa truly offers something for everyone.
For my first appointment, I biked to the end of the island where the spa rests. (The bikes here are plentiful and complimentary.) The Southern Spanish-style courtyard is the heart of the complex, decorated with elegant arches, mosaic tiles, and lush greenery. My first treatment began with a refreshing hibiscus, aloe vera, and native cherry tea, accompanied by a cold towel infused with Guerlain’s Bergamote Calabria—a warm blend of cardamom, pink peppercorn, and ginger. Aptly titled Ocean Vibes, the signature treatment uses a soothing ocean drum and alternating pressing heated and chilled ice globes in areas like the calves and upper shoulders to melt away tension.
The next morning, with the temperature already nearing 90 degrees by 9 a.m., I returned for round two. Yumi led me in a sound bowl meditation in the open-air yoga studio, where birdsong and ocean waves created a perfectly serene atmosphere, like a miniature Garden of Eden. After my sound bowl experience, I took advantage of the plunge pools I had spotted before, oscillating between the hot and cold plunge pools to bring me slowly back to life.
The real magic of Cap Juluca lies in its extraordinary care for the guests. And it’s because of this care—along with those ginger shots, hot teas, and Kleenex Puffs Plus with lotion—that I felt comfortable as a solo traveler. At Cap Juluca, I biked around, joined strangers for dinner, and had impassioned conversations with staff about salt water. On my very last day, while I awaited my transfer to the docks, I was crushed by a wave of nausea. The idea of a 25-minute boat ride suddenly sounded like a very easy way to ruin someone else’s pair of shoes. An old trick came to mind, something my grandma had shown me: sucking on lemons. I sheepishly returned to Uchu, where I’d previously had to lively conversation about roadside barbecue. Would they be able to give me a to-go container of half a dozen segmented lemons?