Long (if not slightly annoying) article in the NY Times today on St. Barts -
<blockquote>"It's relatively easy to maintain a healthy disdain for the renowned fabulousness of the Caribbean island of St.-Barth√©lemy until you actually go there and find yourself up to your neck in deliciously warm turquoise water, not quite hungry after your recent two-hour lunch but beginning nonetheless to ponder your plans for the drinks and dinner to come. That's when it occurs to you that there's nothing so bad after all about being young, beautiful, rich and fashionable.
"Yes, that is me," you say as a gentle swell lifts you temporarily off your feet. "I do need that IWC watch; I will have those Prada flip-flops."
Later, as you drive up and down the steep little island, around corners that give up staggering views of a rugged, dry coast interspersed with sandy crescents, and of other mysterious islands in the distance, you hear the wind whispering, "Submit, submit." Then at dusk the birds sing, "Life is good, life is good," and later still the waves outside your room chant, "You're beautiful, you're beautiful."
"Yes," you say to the waves in woozy reply, "It's all about St. Barts.
It's the only place to be. At New Year's, no less, along with my friends the Perelman-Barkins and Patrick Demarchelier, and look, there's my old homey Jay-Z now, and isn't that ... "Giselle! it's been so long, you look marvelous ..."
It's not an instant process, but there are steps you can take, places you can pause and genuflect, like stations of the cross, on your way to that nirvanalike state of a St. Barts veteran. It needn't take as long as you think, or even, perhaps as much money, though a credit card certainly helps.
"Yes, St. Barts, I am here, at last, here I am where I belong."</blockquote>
The rest, if you are interested, is <a href="http://travel2.nytimes.com/2006/01/15/travel/15barts.html?pagewanted=print">here</a> (don't know how long the link will last).