Seven miles off the coast of the Mexican state of Quintana Roo, the tiny Isla Mujeres (Island of Women) offers a decadent and sheltered Caribbean getaway.
By: Melvin A. Bernarde
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| The 15-month-old Villa Rolandi is one of Isla Mujeres crown jewels.
Photo by Melvin A. Bernarde
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Quintana Roo, one of Mexico’s 31 states, borders Yucatan, Compeche, and the dazzling turquoise Caribbean. Seven miles off that lazy coast lies a wee sliver of an island, Isla Mujeres (Island of Women), a tropical retreat.
Centuries before Francisco Hernandez de Cordova and his motley crew weighed anchor there in 1517, the Mayan people came to seek favors from Ixchel, their goddess of fertility. The origins of the island’s name remain shrouded in mystery. The many clay figurines in the shape of women that Cordova found there may have given the island its name. Some say that Isla Mujeres got its name from the 17th century Buccaneers, who deposited their women on the island before sailing off to pillage and plunder. Still others suggest that long before the pirates and the Spanish, the isla was a sanctuary for sacred Maya virgins. Take your pick all are believable and fanciful, and only add to the island’s charm.
The sliver was all but forgotten after the conquistadors hauled anchor and sailed into the sunset. Today, the Mexican Navy, such as it is, calls it home, and the island’s treasures are shared by 12,000 residents, along with thousands of day-trippers, tourists and backpackers, lending an international flavor to this unhurried haven.
Most boats from the mainland discharge their passengers at the pier at the center of town on the north end of the island, where mopeds, golf carts and bicycles are readily available for leisurely sightseeing. Hikers can cover the virtually flat island on foot. After all, it’s only eight miles from end to end.
One of the isla’s most compelling assets is Playa Los Cocos, also called Playa Norte, a beach that stretches around the entire north coast. The mile of soft, white sand is gently lapped by a warm, clear cyan sea. Thatched-roof restaurants serve up tall, cool drinks and low-priced meals to parched sunbathers, wearing little or nothing, which, depending on your point of view, has much to recommend. The tans are superb, but the sunburns ouch!
At the opposite end of the island, in an environmentally protected area, we found superb snorkeling atGarrafon-Punta Sur Park. The park sits astride the longest reef in the hemisphere and is the second longest in the world, after Australia’s Great Barrier Reef. The shallow-water reef is perfect for snorkelers because they get exceptionally close to the fish. At one point, I was eyeball to eyeball with a sergeantmajor, just about touching each of its five black stripes. At another site, I chanced upon what seemed like hundreds of fish from a half-dozen species, all poised on their lips, biting at seaweed covering underwater rocks. With every bite, they bumped at the weeds in unison, pecking and bumping repeatedly. This silent ballet had me mesmerized and hovering above them, cursing my lack of a water-tight movie camera.
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| Transportation around the Caribbean island is easily obtained, on foot or in rental golf carts.
Photo by Melvin A. Bernarde
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For the non-snorkeler, the park has provided an amazing underwater world behind glass. Stroll along from window to window and watch those riotously colored denizens of the deep do their things. It’s spectacular. For value, it would be hard to beat Garrafon’s $10 entrance fee.
After a half-day of water work, my wife, Anita, and I needed refueling. Although Garrafon has a restaurant, we wanted to get into the swing of things downtown. Taking a fast taxi to the town center, we began strolling. While in Canada, not long ago, Anita purchased a white-peaked cap with a huge red maple leaf. It’s been a magnet forCanadians.
Walking along Calle Hidalgo, which takes you directly to the beach, a group of Canadians pointed to Anita’s hat and asked where in Canada we lived. That got us all talking, and we learned that they have been coming to the island for two months at a time for six years. They not only knew the place, they loved it. Ergo, our next question was, "Where do we eat?" Without hesitation, they said in one voice, "Come with us."
Carmelita’s, on Calle Juarez, is a tucked-away homestyle place, Lilliputian by any standards and not on any of the restaurant lists distributed to tourists. The odor drifting from the kitchen was enough to get us salivating like Pavlov’s dogs. There’s no menu at Carmelita’s. You eat what they prepare that day. For us, the choice was between fish and arroz con pollo (chicken with rice). Having feasted on fried and broiled grouper three times in the past four days, and each as delicious as the other, we opted for the chicken. Not only was it mouth-watering and sizable, no skimping here, but at $2.50 for lunch, how could you not beat a path to their door? I now understand why the Canadians come here. While they sat with other countrymen at a table for 10, we parked ourselves at a small table already occupied by another "regular." With his fractured English and our convoluted Spanish, we managed a passable conversation, learning that he was a taxi driver, that he eats here everyday and that his brother, Sr. Edwardo Mangana, owns Hotel Francis Arlene, one of the island originals. That was a dandy piece of info, and after lunch we headed for it.
As it turned out, Sr. Mangana and his father were born on the isla; they are among the real natives. In addition to owning and running one of the better three-star hotels ($55 a night, double occupancy), he is also director of the tourist office. After a grand tour of this well-kept hotel, with its great location just off the beach, he escorted us to his office to regale us about the island’s attractions, including the fact that haggling with vendors and shopkeepers is an ancient and honorable tradition. Most of all, he was insistent that we not leave the island without visiting two of the islands gems Villa Rolandi and Casa de los Sueños.
Carlos Cervera Foster would be our cicerone. We were off to the upscale restaurant Rolandi, where Sr. Cervera was general manager, and as we learned, one of five partners in the very new five-star hotel Villa Rolandi and Gourmet Beach Club. Sr. Cervera was eager to show off his little gem, which is listed in the world directory of Small Luxury Hotels of the World.
Packing us into his Jeep, he whisked us south, then took the east fork to a hideaway strip of island sitting between the Caribbean and a very private lagoon. As we drove, we wondered what adventure beckoned.
Rounding another bend, our leader slowed the Jeep and came to rest across from the hotel. We gasped. Here was a thing of beauty. Sr. Giancarlo Frigerio, the general manager, was waiting for us at the top of the steps. "Welcome. We are happy you came to see us," he ventured, as he shook my hand, then bussed Anita on both cheeks. As Anita said, "that was an excellent beginning." His Swiss-Italian accent and visage were reminiscent of Rossano Brazzi.
It is not easy to become a member of Small Luxury Hotels of the World, nor is it easy to maintain membership. They are very fussy about their standards of excellence, which they take quite seriously. The standards are obvious as you walk from common areas to the 20 guest rooms. They call them junior suites.
Fifteen-month-old Villa Rolandi is a synergism of modern Italian and Mediterranean styles planted on Mayan shores; add a touch of Latin hospitality, then top it with Swiss-Italian cooking using firewood ovens and it all adds up to unabashed luxury. Every room has a terrace with Jacuzzi, facing the sea; Guatemalan marbled tile bathrooms and Yucatan wood furniture and interiors. Breakfast is passed through a cubby opening from the hall, directly into your suite through a door only you can unlock.
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| The Villa Rolandi’s gourmet restaurant serves enormous lobsters.
Photo by Melvin A. Bernarde
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The gourmet restaurant, open to the public by reservation, is a gustatory experience. The huge live lobsters in the restaurant’s holding tank reminded me of SouthAfrican Rock Lobsters. In fact, I thought they had been flown in, but Sr. Frigerio was quick to note that they were caught nearby. Whatever it is in these waters, it grows big lobsters.
Anita’s eye caught the circle of bottles above the bar. In fact, they stock 52 kinds of Tequila. Of the roughly 200 types made, this seems enough to satisfy anyone’s desire for fire in the throat. We learned, too, that the best time to visit the isla is from March through June, and then again in October and November, but their highest room rates, $390 per night for double occupancy, is for the week of Dec. 24 to Jan. 1 an all-inclusive rate. On arrival at Cancun International Airport, guests are met, driven to the marina at PlayaLinda, where the hotel’s yacht, Cacoon, carries them toRolandi’s lagoon and pier. All food and drinks are included in the price of the room. But note, this is an adult get-away. The welcome mat is not out for children.
Sr. Cervera Foster, a gentleman to the end, responded to my request and dropped us at Casa de los Sueños’ unimposing front door.
Danielle Micron is one of a kind. This French-Canadian gift to Isla Mujers is a presence. When she comes into view, the lumens increase by an order of magnitude. This elegant, vivacious lady has done what most of us only dream of doing. La Casa de Los Sueños, The House of Dreams, is her dream house come true.
Three years ago, it began as her home designed, decorated and furnished by her imaginative, creative and thoughtful Swiss husband, Martin Good. He had the eye for colors, the rich pinks, French blue, the corals; for fabric and furniture, and how they come together.
This nine-room Bed & Breakfast (and possibly lunch) is everyone’s dream house. If Villa Rolandi is a gem, La Casa de los Sueños is a string of magnificent pearls. Casa is a non-smoking, very private, adults-only paradise a compelling place for lovers and newlyweds. Ms. Michon has done weddings there for guests who crave luxury in a small but lush setting. In fact, her home was converted into a sensual retreat for a privileged few.
With no sign outside, the many tourists who trip up to Garrafon pass this casa never knowing or even guessing what sumptuous splendor lies beyond. Ms. Michon’s is an oasis of calm and tranquillity. Her placid demeanor sets the tone and makes it all possible. Dress is casual, but house rules require either bare feet or "quiet shoes" inside, no more than two to a room and no children.
Each of the very differently appointed, commodious rooms face the sea with uncommon views. For the few lucky ones, this could be Shangri La.
Ms. Michon’s brother, François, is the resident chef, and it is said that in addition to glorious breakfasts (and possibly lunch) "he prepares the best Margaritas this side of heaven."
During the weeks of Dec. 19 to Jan. l, the master suite can be had for $390 per night, and $275 for a deluxe room. From May to December, they can be had for $335 and $215, respectively. With only nine rooms, reservations can be difficult, but a phone call, e-mail, or even a knock on the door may just do it.
As we said our good-byes and left for the open road, we knew we must return. Isla Mujeres may be small, but it has an allure that goes beyond its small size. By the way, it’s only three hours by air from New Jersey.
For reservations: Hotel Francis Arlene phone and fax: 52 (987) 7 03 10, Avenida Guerrero #7, Isla Mujeres, Quintana Roo; Villa Rolandi phone: 52 (987) 7 07 00, fax: 52 (987) 7 01 00, e-mail: [email protected], on the web: www.rolandi.com; Casa de Los Sueños phone: 52 (987) 7 06 51, fax: 52 (987) 7 07 08, e-mail [email protected], on the Web: www.lossuenos.com, U.S.A toll free: (800) 551-2558; N.Y. (212) 679-3099.
Related Web sites:
www.rolandi.com
www.lossuenos.com
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