Quick to magnetise the jet-set in its early years, St Barths’ original beacon of utopian high-end hedonism, Eden Rock St Barths, keeps its edge with authenticity, exclusive experiences and an inimitable maverick spirit.
Recently, I attended a septuagenarian’s birthday party in the Caribbean. It was quite the affair. From the bar overlooking St Jean Beach on the volcanic French West Indies island of Saint Barthélemy, aka St Barths, we witnessed the sun’s graceful descent to the ocean horizon, painting the tropical sky a symphony of purples, pinks and gold, as if in honour of this remarkable milestone. The air buzzed with anticipation, potent cocktails and frosé flowed freely. Elegantly dressed loved ones and lifelong friends mingled, often bursting into uproarious laughter as they shared nostalgic anecdotes and cherished memories of a life well lived and magnanimously shared. This was a celebration of friendship, fortitude, beauty and vitality, sentiments brilliantly captured at the evening’s climax, a fire-poetry performance by artist Robert Montgomery, whose words blazed above the bay to rapturous applause: ‘Love is the revolutionary energy that annihilates the shadows and collapses the distance between us.’
This birthday party was not for a person, but for the iconic St Barths resort that is Eden Rock. Founded in the 1950s by the eccentric French-Dutch aviator Rémy de Haenen on a rocky promontory overlooking St Jean Bay, it quickly became the Caribbean island escape of the jet-set. Greta Garbo (perhaps lured by St Barth’s Swedish connection – the legacy of its time in the 18th and 19th centuries as Sweden’s only Caribbean colony) and Howard Hughes (a pilot himself, thrilled by its daredevil landing strip) were among the first celebrity visitors in the 1950s. The Rockefellers and the Rothschilds followed in the 1960s and loved it so much they bought their own plots of St-Barthélemois paradise. In the 1970s, shipping tycoon Aristotle Onassis anchored his 100m (330ft) superyacht in the harbour of the island’s capital Gustavia to check in at Eden Rock St Barths, cementing both island and resort as places where global gazillionaires come to kick back.
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They say to measure age by friends, not years… and seven decades on, Eden Rock remains a treasured playground for the rich and famous. My fellow partygoers – otherwise known as Eden Rockers, the resort’s most loyal guests, whose affection for the place and the people who run it are palpable – certainly matched the first descriptor, and included airline entrepreneurs, real-estate financiers and designer-underwear moguls. As for fame, St Barths has a reputation for relaxed discretion that keeps it a favourite of pap-wary A-listers, even if locals roll their eyes good-humouredly about the celebrity tsunami that make restaurant reservations a near-impossibility each Christmas holiday.
But while the resort has evolved to stay aligned with, or even ahead of, the increasingly rarefied tastes of an ever wealthier and more indulged global elite, for me the secret of its enduring success amid an ever-expanding super-luxury sector is a joyous fidelity to the utopian, bohemian, beat-generation pioneer spirit that gave it life. Legend has it that Rémy’s first landing on this then little-known and airstrip-free island necessitated him flying low to scatter grazing goats before looping back to make his first touchdown on bare rock. (Although St Barths has since 1984 had Gustaf III airport, serving small, short-hop flights, it remains officially one of the world’s hairiest runways because it’s so short – just 650m (2,133ft) long – requiring both pilot and crew to have specific training.) That didn’t even put a dent in Rémy’s chutzpah. Next, he invested in a craggy stretch of St Barths headland, built a resort designed to attract the world’s most affluent travellers and successfully stood for mayor of the island.
Rémy was also purposeful in setting a tone for tourism in St Barths that would become its enduring signature, curating a space at Eden Rock where the elite could let their hair down away from prying eyes. Both his resort and its tiny (half the size of Manhattan) home island, since 2003 no longer part of Guadeloupe but a separate French overseas collectivity, are achingly chic, but also bewitchingly carefree – ‘oh là là’ in short shorts (this season’s, natch).
This sense of privacy also created an environment where all who can get here can feel they belong. No surprise then that since its inception, Eden Rock has drawn queer luminaries such as Montgomery Clift, Gore Vidal and Garbo herself to relax here. Coupled with France’s status as the first colonial power to decriminalise homosexuality, back in 1791, as a result of the French Revolution, St Barths has long been a bastion of LGBTQ+ acceptance in the Caribbean compared with its once British-ruled neighbours. (Turn left at Anse de Grande Saline beach to see just how proudly gay the island can be.)
Some say Rémy fell in love with St Barths’ natural beauty and ethereal magnetism. Yes, the island is picturesque, but simply in the way all Caribbean islands are, with piercing-blue waters, lush green jungles (most of St Barths’ land mass is designated green belt) and powder-sand coastlines. But it doesn’t have the Pitons of St Lucia or the Baths of Virgin Gorda. Gustavia isn’t much more than a Liliputian harbour. Even while its history is shaped by colonialism under France and Sweden – and refreshingly more characterised by its importance for piracy and smuggling than the cruelty of the slave trade, which ended here in 1847 – it makes little cultural impression on most visitors today.
So, according to travel-editor maths, this can only mean that Eden Rock’s enduring allure is down to… Eden Rock itself. And, alongside Rémy’s extraordinary founding vision, much credit is owed to its current owners David and Jane Matthews (who bought it in 1995), luxury hospitality doyenne Oetker Collection (who partnered with the Matthews to manage the property in 2014) and the vibrant and charismatic general manager Fabrice Moizan, at its helm since the Oetker relationship began and pivotal to the resort’s colourful personality. Bronzed, dashing, always spiffily dressed and accessorised with a full-beam smile, he reminded me of Mr Roarke from Fantasy Island, his mission to make the secret dreams of all who visit come true.
All that Eden Rock has to offer puts it unquestionably in reach of Caribbean ‘grande dame’ status – its phenomenally appointed signature suites, its state-of-the-art spa facilities, its experiences menu… The resort seems, however, to decline such pomp respectfully, preferring instead to trade on a playful fusion of mid-century seaside vintage vibes with an evolving avant-garde sensibility and, above all, a timeless sense of fun.
Constantly ongoing renovations were accelerated by the devastation wreaked by Hurricane Irma in 2017, which sparked a comprehensive rethink and refurbishment of much of the property. Under Jane Matthews’ artistic direction, its aesthetic compass has been the Eden Rock Design Group, which counts internationally acclaimed Martin Brudnizki Design Studio and St Barths-based architecture firm Architectonik among its members.
They holistically reimagined the property’s iconic red-and-white candy-cane beach front, its premium villas and its restaurant area now complete with rattan-woven banana tree and monkey chandeliers. Its gallery-worthy art collection has been quietly refreshed (Robert Montgomery is one of six resident artists), while out front the rainbow-coloured fleet of Mokes (transitioning currently to electric) lets the resort’s cheeky side out of the bag a little. Eden Rock has swagger, but never overeggs its flamboyance or its unique pedigree.
Built around a rocky outcrop, the suites and bungalows are individually constructed and designed. Every Eden Rocker I met has their favourite, which they book out years in advance. Classic Eden Rooms come with breezy timber terraces, sparkling sea views and elegant design, and from there guests can choose from a huge menu of luxury add-ons, from private pools and private gyms to private piano bars in units up through suites, beach houses and villas. Signature suites are christened after an assortment of St Barths-linked names, from Greta Garbo and Howard Hughes to controversial coloniser Christopher Columbus, who without even setting foot on the island, which was then known by its Arawak name Ouanalao, rebranded it for his kid brother Bartholomew.
More recently, the Matthews’ close-family connections have inspired signature suite Pippa, named after the British Middleton royal-in-law. All the property’s suites are clean lined, bright, colourful and modern, always with views and decks – more often than not with plunge pool or hot tub – looking out to sea, and each designed with a splash more brio than the average superluxe palette.
I had the pleasure of staying in the lavish and aptly named Villa Rockstar and the adjoining Villa Nina, which combined offer some 2,100 sq m (22,500 sq ft ) of luxurious living space – the former, with six bedrooms and a 20m- (65ft-)long private pool, being the largest at 1,600 sq m (17,200 sq ft). The latter has three bedrooms and a large infinity plunge pool, with direct access to the beach and its iconic – and Insta-tastic – floating pontoon. Both villas have been rebuilt to be able to withstand Category 5 hurricanes.
Rockstar is a phenomenal villa that put me in mind of a superyacht on land. Sleeping up to 12, this millionaires’ playpen has its own gym and wellness facilities, open kitchen and bar, 12-seater designer dining table, pool table, Jacuzzi and white baby grand. The super-comfortable communal areas are Dubai-esque ‘bling’, as expected, while each bedroom offers a characterful, individually designed and elegantly appointed retreat. My opulent bathroom, complete with centrepiece polished-teak bathtub, was generously stocked with age-defying Dr Barbara Sturm products – perhaps in case the 70th birthday party had triggered a sudden case of FOGO (fear of getting old). So far, so pampered. But imagine my surprise one morning when German skincare swami Dr Sturm herself arrived at the villa for a private consultation, with mitigating sun damage and the effects of copious cocktails top of the kindly agenda.
The seafront Villa Nina is far more homely and understated in a way that almost evokes Malibu chic, with pale-pastel decor, Missoni soft furnishings and impressive artworks, not to mention stately bedrooms. Both come with a squad of young, fun French ‘butlers’ who, like the rest of the hotel’s nattily presented team, combine attentive service with an infectious relish for island life. They couldn’t do enough for me and ensured there was a libation in my hand at all times (except when I asked for hangover medication instead). A supple Portuguese yogi is also available for lessons on request, as is a personal trainer.
We had the opportunity to sample the talents of the resort’s private chef on a night of Hurricane Tammy lockdown. Tammy threatened a fierce Category 2 storm, but in the end passed rather more inconsequentially than the gastric fall-out of my preemptive, eat-like-it’s-the-last-night-of-your-life response.
Another culinary treat was an in-villa ringside seat with superstar chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten, who demonstrated how to rustle up a tasty black sea bass en croûte. Jean-Georges presides over all food and beverage here at Eden Rock. His all-day-dining Sand Bar offers elevated island-style informal dining – avocado pizza, crispy salmon nigiri and watermelon and goats’ cheese salad for light bites. Diners with heartier appetites can choose from just-caught grilled mahi-mahi from local waters or wagyu beef and caviar, fresh off the cute gunmetal Tradewind planes that connect the resort to the world.
Like all Boomers, Eden Rock leans heavily into experience and authenticity, and there’s no shortage of talent on hand to deliver both, whatever your preferred style of R & R. But what’s most impressive here is the coherent vision that curates and integrates all Eden Rock’s elements in such harmonious, symphonic fashion. In truth, there are many today who can create a hotel of this ambition and style. But where Eden Rock wins is in its interpretation of modern luxury through the lens of Rémy’s offbeat, original spirit – resonating across generations, its enduring appeal testifies to that, tapping magically into emotional values of escapism, hedonism, sophistication, culture and, moreover, social currency.
It’s true that a stay at Eden Rock comes with a premium price tag, but there is a confident and laid-back approach to exclusivity here that never allows it to feel inaccessible, exclusionary or manufactured. It’s not about who you are or what you wear. You belong, simply by letting Eden Rock’s inherent lust for life happen to you. Countless fellow guests over seven storied decades agree. This, money can’t buy.
Photography by Jeanne Le Menn, C D Wheathley, Alex and courtesy of Eden Rock St Barths and Oetker Collection
