Bonjour!
It’s been a minute since I went to St. Barths, but I just now cleared all the rum from my system, so I’m here (two months later) to recap.
In a shocking development in my life, I went on a trip where I did ZERO planning. I bought a plane ticket and then I let Jesus take the wheel, and in this case Jesus happens to be my friend, whose 30th birthday we were celebrating on this trip. Basically what I’m saying is, I have no helpful details for you whatsoever, but I have some cool pics.
Due to the fact that I wanted to use Delta miles for part of the trip and also not miss Royal Ascot, I had quite the itinerary for this one. London —> JFK. Sleep in lounge at JFK all night (what up Priority Pass), then JFK —> St. Maarten —> (via tiny commuter plane) St. Barthelemy.
I’ve always wanted to fly into St. Maarten over that beach, so mission accomplished.
I thought the St. Maarten landing would be the highlight of the day, but St. Barths was, partly because of the view, and partly because we didn’t die. That plane is SO SMALL and that runway is SO SHORT, you guys.
Once my 35 hour journey was complete, the birthday boy himself fetched me from the airport, and within minutes I had joined the party, received an itinerary, an aperol spritz, and a new tattoo.
He knows I don’t speak French, ugh. 
The villas (which I have no information on) were all AMAZING. Villa life is THE life.
We sadly left the villa for a bit to hit the beach club, because life is rough in St. Barths. We made some new friends at said beach club, definitely didn’t hate any of them, and continued the villa party later that night.
A lot of rum punch was packed into day one, and I arrived at 3:30PM! But surprisingly all were alive the next morning to relocate and decorate another villa.
Then, just to emphasize how terrible life in St. Barth can be, we went out on a private catamaran…stocked with booze.
No one was harmed by any of the terrifying things that live in the ocean while swimming by the catamaran and we made our way home to get ready for a nice dinner at Le Sereno where I enjoyed the dinner time entertainment immensely.
I loved it. So Much.
Nothing but adoration for this man and his made up rendition of “Here Comes the Sun.” John, Paul, George, and Ringo, who??
Anyways, the food was good!
Now, I’m not being sarcastic when I say the next activity bordered on torture, but when someone sells the natural pools like Ryan, you just gotta go! Just off for a casual stroll to go to these tranquil natural pools. None of us brought proper footwear, why would we?! This hike was more than we expected, some of us sat at the top of the hill and contemplated how we ended up in this situation, some of us had a panic attack, some of us just went all the way into the pool even if it meant a bloody toe in the end. But like, it was for the ‘gram (my toe is fine, can’t speak for the other hikers though, they are still traumatized).
Honestly, the natural pools WERE cool, but bring water, and sneakers. They were cool, but the heat stroke and vomiting after were not…
After I watched a good chunk of a season of Veep and all of Toy Story in the AC in the villa, I luckily came back to life for DINNER WITH THE PRIVATE CHEF at the other villa (cue Hilary Duff singing “This is what Dreeeeaammmsss are made of”). We got an amazing sunset, and amazing food, and we didn’t even have to go into public. What a dream, truly.
So that was fun. Sadly, the next day some of our group had to go home, but the rest of us were headed back over to St. Maarten, not before taking advantage of those pools one more time, of course.
By the time we got to the hotel in St. Maarten, all there was really time for was drinks, all the fried food on the menu, and contemplating if everyone at this resort except us were swingers. Oh, and a sunset.
Not much to report back on St. Maarten because the following morning we hopped on another private boat with a stacked bar to Anguilla. Taking a boat and hopping off at whatever beaches you want truly is the life, and Anguilla is a beauty.
An island exists just to pull your boat up to and go to the bar, which is the only thing on the island. YES PLEASE.
We hit up a few different spots around Anguilla, including a restaurant for lunch, a spot with an opportunity (which I passed up) to cliff dive. I prefer taunting the jumpers from the boat, TBH. Basically this was a perfect day, and I have picked out resorts to stay at in Anguilla in the future, but I’m not giving away my secrets.
I miss that boat.
The next day it was time for us to say goodbye to island life and rum punch, but not before farewell daiquiris while watching the planes land over the beach in St. Maarten.
Thanks to everyone for the laughs that made my abs hurt and the mems. Mostly thanks to this one who planned a dream week for us all. You’re the real MVP, clearly.
Slay girl, slay.
And always remember…drinks before mopping.
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