I’d only been to St. Kitts once. It was about a dozen years ago, and I was a guest aboard a charter yacht. We took the tender ashore on Turtle Beach and had lunch at a charming island rum shop. Green monkeys roamed free, waiting for the occasional handouts of sliced fruit. Fresh seafood sizzled on a kettle grill and the sound system played Caribbean music — a perfect accompaniment to the small waves lapping on the beach. The simple West Indies-style bar had a one-room apartment for rent above it, and for many years afterward, I’d pull up the restaurant’s website and think about leasing that apartment when I was craving an unpretentious island escape.
So I was excited when the representative from the St. Kitts Tourism Authority said we’d conclude my recent island tour with a visit to Reggae Beach, the rum shop I had loved. To be honest, the 2 1/2-hour tour hadn’t done the island justice. During most of the day, the rep was snuggled into the van seat in front of me, mildly car sick, only weakly raising her head to point out the churches we passed. “There’s the Anglican church. … There’s the Catholic church. … There’s the Seventh Day Adventist church. … ” When we pulled into Reggae Beach, I realized the parade of churches was going to be the high point of the tour after all.