Luxury Hotels

SYBARITIC SINGLE SURVEYS SANDY LANE

The Sybaritic Single’s arrival on Barbados gets off to a shaky start when he gets into a row with the local customs office.
Thankfully, he is out in no time and sips on two piccolo Moët bottles as a platinum Rolls-Royce whisks him through the rain towards the Sandy Lane, also known as the most fabulous address of the Caribbean for almost 90 years, and where anyone from Jaqueline Kennedy and Queen Elizabeth II to Elton John and Bill Gates enjoyed vacationing.
Early morning is the only calm time of the day and the Sybaritic Single adores the idyllic row of pink parasols along the narrow beach strip with tall mahogany trees offering additional shade. The ocean is turquoise with a fabulous floating platform featuring more pink details, white couches and two toxic-green artificial plants – Ivana Trump would have approved.
The breakfast restaurant is populated by the English rich, American queens, lots of nouveau-riche of different skin colour, some duchesses complaining about the disappearance of the British Empire and gossip glossies all around. Once the breakfast is over, the same gang goes cavorting on the famous sandy beach. We get it. We’re not judging. It’s just such a stark contrast to an idyllic private island hideaway, despite being regularly plied with refreshing treats such as sorbets and squash, and staff offering ice towels and a buffing of sunglasses.
The colossal spa with its artificial waterfalls and hydrotherapy pools resembles an overblown Romanesque wellness factory. The Sybaritic Single enjoys more of the shameless pampering and the fact he can continue sipping champagne non-stop.
After 7:30pm all men must wear long trousers and look “elegant” which is quite challenging in the hot Caribbean climate without air conditioning (none of the resort’s restaurants got it). Infuriated, the Sybaritic Single demands for the calm and cool library to be opened for his simple dinner to be served there. After a five-minute skirmish, everything is executed to perfection: the grilled lobster arrives and the champagne doesn’t get warm too quickly.
After all, the Sandy Lane is all about conspicuous luxury.