On the last day of my vacation to Ambergris Cay, I sit in a small but tasteful, waiting room in the visitor’s center, while just a few feet away, our luggage is loaded into the private aircraft that will soon return us to Providenciales International Airport. I seethe in silence. I’ve brought my mom with me, she’s perched on the arm of the couch across from me attempting conversation, but I’m not listening. Not really, anyway. Because after spending the better part of a week here, there is one thing I know to be unequivocally true: Ambergris Cay has ruined vacations for me.
It’s my first time on this little island in the southeast corner of Turks and Caicos, though as I count down my remaining seconds in that waiting room, I find myself praying to whoever will listen that it’s not my last. After all, my trip wasn’t bad. Nothing went wrong. Quite the opposite, actually. It was perfect in every sense and, consequently, I fear I may spend the rest of my life trying to recreate it, potentially to no avail.
Located 600 miles south of Miami, Ambergris Cay opened as an all-inclusive, private island resort in 2019. Originally established as a community for private homeowners, it comprises 1,100-acres, 17 beachfront bungalows — up from 10 originally — and nine villas, the largest of which has six bedrooms. It’s stunning for a number of reasons, the signature crystal-clear waters of Turks and Caicos that swaddle it not least of all. Everywhere you look, you’re met with an impossible shade of turquoise — the likes of which I have not seen since my best friend papered her bedroom walls with a gargantuan tropical island mural when we were 12.
You’d, of course, be forgiven if the mention of private island resorts summoned images of pretentious, often far-flung locales of the Richard Branson variety. (During Covid, Branson opened one of his private isles, Moskito in the British Virgin Islands, to the public with reservations starting at $25,000 a night, aka unattainable.) But when asked, Ambergris Cay’s Director of Sales and Marketing Francine Stewart says, “Who is Ambergris Cay for? It’s for everyone.”
While private island stays were once reserved almost exclusively for the glitterati who either owned them or knew the folks who did, post-pandemic they offered up exactly what people of all tax brackets were seeking: fresh air, few people and meaningful, once-in-a-lifetime experiences. And so seek them out they did and have continued to do well into 2024.
“While some predicted group travel would peak post-pandemic, we’ve seen it have a lasting, positive impact with private group bookings continuing to be a dominant trend,” Tom Marchant of Black Tomato told Condé Nast Traveler at the close of 2023.
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For a vacation devoid of any evidence of human lifeBut you’d hardly know any of that based on a visit to Ambergris Cay. When they say private, they mean private. It takes me a near week to confirm that the resort is, in fact, for everyone, as it’s possible to go days without seeing virtually anyone at all. That is in spite of the fact that I’ve been told they’re at around 70% capacity at the time of my stay. At one point, I walk about a quarter mile out into the water outside of our bungalow — it’s so shallow, the water never reaches higher than my knees — and even when I turn around to take stock of the island from my new vantage point in the sea, I don’t see one other guest. I can’t speak for all city dwellers, but for me, coming from New York City, this is peak luxury. Ethereal, even.
Luxury is not hard to come by at Ambergris Cay. Each bungalow, at minimum, comes with a heated, private pool, a butler, a dedicated mobile device from which to contact said butler and, crucially, a golf cart. (Eleven hundred acres is a lot to cover on foot, particularly if your sole purpose in being there is to expend as little energy as possible.) The offerings that come with the villas are, as you’d imagine, even more abundant. The six-bedroom oceanfront villa Dream Pavillion, for example, comes with a private chef.
Unsurprisingly, the food and beverage program is far more consistent than a traditional all-inclusive. There are two ocean-facing restaurants and two bars, Calico and The Club House, and Mahoney’s and Clubhouse Bar & Lounge, respectively. Calico is really the main event, serving Caribbean-inspired breakfast and dinner. Here, you can also partake in a private chef’s table dinner experience, which comprises five courses with wine pairings, specially prepared in front of you by the executive chef. It’s interactive, it’s indulgent and it’s delicious. The “off-site” Hangover Tiki Bar is another singular experience in that it’s a floating bar that can only be reached by boat, moored in water that’s roughly three feet deep. It stands to reason that you can probably walk all the way from the resort, but once you’re there, there are no other signs of life aside from the other guests (this, I find out, is where you can always expect to find other guests).
For my part, I spend the overwhelming majority of my time at Ambergris Cay lounging on my own little slice of beach and private pool, and when I grow tired of that, lounging in my bungalow where I can watch the sunset over the water from the comfort of my king-sized bed. My butler, Victor, sees to it that I want for nothing. For the sake of being able to say I did so, I try out all the amenities. I get a massage at the spa, do sunrise yoga at the fitness pavilion, e-bike the entire island and drive by the regulation-size pickleball court and both tennis courts, as I’ve conveniently forgotten to pack the appropriate footwear. But, truth be told, I’d be fine here even without them. Ambergris Cay is inherently special, and I require no convincing.
I (eventually) cross paths with a couple who claim to have saved up all year for this child-free vacation, another on their babymoon and a large group of all ages who appear to be celebrating something (though it’s not clear what). They’re from all over the contiguous United States, which confirms, at least in part, that Ambergris Cay really is for everyone. Or a lot of people, at least.
Now all of that said, the question still remains: how am I ever going to top it?
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