Brushing with fame in the BVIs...

Our arrival at Tortola airport made us feel very unwelcome in the British Virgin Islands, and it's a disgrace that the government permits this to happen. No immigration documents were distributed to passengers on the aircraft, and the crew told us we would receive them on landing. Off the plane, we were shepherded into a gloomy arrivals area and given the forms to complete. The room was too dark to read the fine print on the forms and there was little area to place the forms to write on them. Some passengers sat on the floor. We don't know whether the LIAT staff were complicit in this or not, but we suspect they were justifiably embarrassed about it. Having completed the forms, there was one immigration official to process us, but mercifully he was quick, and the customs people didn't bother us either. This experience will forever poison our otherwise good memories of the BVIs.

It was dark by the time we found our hotel organised driver to take us to the Sugar Mill Hotel, about 45 minutes drive, and about as far from the airport as it's possible to get on Tortola (the biggest of the BVIs). Here we discovered the most amazing thing about the BVIs - they drive on the left as would be expected of a British Commonwealth country, but all the cars are imported from the USA unmodified and are left hand drive. Thus drivers have the weird experience of being near the gutter rather than the centre of the road. When we picked up our rental car, this proved to be an unusual feeling, but an easy one to cope with.

Spectacular sailed cruise ships are not an uncommon sight in Caribbean waters. This one anchored overnight in a harbour on Jost Van Dyke, an island just opposite the Sugar Mill.

Our hotel was the Sugar Mill, an old establishment on the north side of Tortola. There are no prizes for guessing what used to happen here. Ths Sugar Mill's history dates back to 1640, and the restaurant is a building made from cobblestones from the streets of Liverpool stolen, apparently, for ballast on the empty returning sugar and rum ships. Various old artifacts decorate the site. The hotel is located directly on its own tiny beach which looks as though it has been sculpted for the purpose. It's only 40m long, and a light surf rolls in across a shallow reef. It's a pleasant place for a quick swim, but for more serious beach entertainment, you go elsewhere. Our hotel room, a deluxe suite, could be described as quaint, but it was spacious and everything was in good order and condition. The balcony was disappointingly small. The shower only dribbled, but it was the hottest we had encountered in the Caribbean so far. There was no TV in the room, but our clock radio got National Public Radio from Washington DC, which is a very interesting station.

The circular pool at Sugar Mill has been constructed in the pit where oxen powered the treadmill in the old sugar refinery here.

The restaurant building at the Sugar Mill dates back to the 1600's and was constructed from cobblestones stolen from English streets, together with local materials.

Morning view from the shady gazebo at Sugar Mill looking towards Long Bay. We had a cuppa here every morning after breakfast.

Sopers Hole is a major marina on the west end of Tortola. It must be one of the most beautiful marinas in the world. The water is crystal clear and an incredible blue colour. The buildings and shops surrounding the marina were mostly tidy and attractive. Sopers is a major yacht chartering base, and was busy with yachts mooring and provisioning. Day sail operators work from here, or call in during the day to allow their sunburnt customers to refuel and shop, so it was a great place to relax over lunch and do extensive people-watching.

Sopers Hole Marina from high on the Belmont Pond approach road. Reportedly, this cove used to be a pirate's haunt.

Is this the most beautiful water colour ever seen inside a marina? Sopers Hole at Tortola's western end.

Watching the fish in the crystal waters of Sopers Hole marina.

Tourists on Mystique, one of Tortola's day sailing operations.

Road Town is the capital of the BVIs, and the only substantial town, as far as we know. It's where the cruise ships pull in. It's a bustling little place even when there are no cruisers in, but we didn't spend any time here othen than to buy some provisions.

On a brilliant day, these three cruise ships in Road Town Harbour have spewed their contents all over Tortola, providing, hopefully, a significant boost to the nation's economy.

The most pleasant surprise about the Sugar Mill was the quality of its restaurant. We have had some mediocre food in the Caribbean, but the fare here was exceptional, and the menu changed every day. Only one one night did we eat outside the hotel, unusual for us. The food at Sugar Ridge in Antigua was good too, but Sugar Mill set a higher standard. We note that the Conde Nast list of the top 10 Caribbean hotels from November 2011 includes Sugar Mill, and we feel that it was the restaurant which earned it that accolade. At the restaurant one night we met a gentleman who said he was a Professor of Law in Michigan. He was interesting to talk to. He owns a house overlooking Brewers Bay and spends a lot of time here, but usually without his wife, who prefers Hawaii.

Large houses like this one cling to steep hillsides and command spectacular views over Tortola's coast and bays.

But the biggest excitement at the Sugar Mill was a brush with fame. The restaurant had a Friday night special of fresh Anegada lobster and it not only attracted us, but Richard Branson showed up too! Mike recognised him immediately and got to exchange hellos. Branson owns Necker Island in the BVIs, and, consistent with his reputation, he was in the company of glamorous young blondes. His presence at this restaurant confirmed its reputation as one of the best. The grilled whole lobster with crab stuffing and drawn butter was fantastic!

Tortola seemed to have two distinct characters, one when cruise ships have pulled in to Road Town Harbour, and the other when there are none. We were lucky enough to witness both characters several times. When the ships were in, the streets, roads, shops, beaches, restaurants and bars were crowded with thousands of passengers getting around the island in hundreds of taxi trucks looking like Philippino buses, each holding 10-15 passengers. Cane Garden Bay, made famous in Jimmy Buffet's song Manana, seemed to bear the brunt of the cruise ship traffic. This beach, much to Jimmy Buffet's pleasure, is lined with bars and restaurants, all fronting the sand, and became quite overcrowded. Hundreds of beach chairs were rented at $5 a pop. When the cruise ships pulled out, the beach, and indeed all of Tortola, seemed to settle into a kind of languid slumber. Some of the businesses closed, the umbrellas and beach chairs didn't get put out, and everything was much more relaxed, Caribbean style. Life still goes on - the bays were still full of yachts pulled up for the night, and yachties do enjoy a rum or a beer, and a meal, onshore.

Hundreds of packed taxis like this one ferry cruise ship passengers to the sights and beaches of Tortola.

After breakfast each day, we swam and jogged on Cane Garden Bay beach, enjoying the solitude when the cruise ships were absent, being thoroughly entertained when they were in town. The beach is maybe 0.5km long, has fine sand and clear water, and was a very nice place to relax. So were the other northside beaches on Tortola, such as Brewers Bay and Long Bay.

Dusk is approaching and the crowds at Cane Garden Bay have mostly retreated to their cruise ships.

Two sailors use stand up boards to get back to their moored yacht at sunset.

Many yachts moored and anchored at Cane Garden Bay in the late afternoon.

One morning driving to Cane Garden, we gave a lift to a hitch-hiking American family. Later, we recogised them at a restaurant, and chatted. We mentioned that our next stop was Puerto Rico, and the man said he had been there a lot when there was a flourishing garment industry. Now that industry has moved to Central America. We asked how they make their money now? He said, simply, "crime"! We'd better be watchful in Old San Juan.

The Bamba Bar is within walking distance of our hotel and provides a very rustic setting for a sunset drink. How this jury-rigged construction survives a storm, we don't know.

Sooty coloured pelicans abound on these beaches, including the one at Sugar Mill, and it was great and endless entertainment to watch them swooping into the water to catch one of the myriads of tiny fish. They rarely missed - then they seem to rest for a minute or two before getting airborne again for another fishing expedition. Sometimes, they swooped into the water right where you are swimming, but they did seem to avoid large crowds of people. Boobies fished in much the same way, but they were less common than the pelicans.

Pelican skimming the waters over Brewers Bay. When fishing, they fly at a much greater height and dive into the water with a great splash.

Tortola is mountain goat country when it comes to roads. The island is steeply mountainous, and the roads are narrow, twisty and potholed. The hairpin bends are even steeper and more treacherous than on St. Lucia. It's common to toot your horn when approaching a blind hairpin - the first to toot assumes the right to use the entire road around the bend, or so it seems. The views of the bays from the high roads were breathtaking, and each mountainside facing water seemed to have a dense scattering of small and large houses taking advantage of the views and, no doubt, the breezes. The steepness of the driveways up or down to these houses was staggering. The island is small, and distances are short, but each journey seemed to take a long time. As elsewhere on these islands, we found the drivers to be couteous and patient. Our car on Tortola was a little Suzuki Grande Vitara SUV, eminently suitable for these dodgy roads.

Our Suzuki parked at Stoutts Lookout. The owner invited us in for rum and wings at 4pm!

This pickup truck is supposedly part of a handyman business but doesn't seem to have been used for a while!

The departure experience from the BVIs was no better than our arrival. Airline staff were efficient and helpful at checkin, but then, firstly, you have to pay a $20 departure tax. Departure taxes themselves are common, but they are almostly always now included in the cost of the ticket. Here you have to queue up to pay an amount which is unspecified in any signage - it turns out to be $20. Secondly, our queue for the Osama Bin Laden security check was 45 minutes. Despite staff wandering about everywhere, there was only one machine going, and one operator. The terminal is modern and spacious and has every opportunity to do this much better. In the departure lounge, we decided that we would never visit the BVIs again, and never recommend it to anyone, solely for the bureaucracy and inefficiency at the airport at both ends of our otherwise pleasant stay here.

View of Long Bay, Tortola, with glimpse of Great Thatch, from a high point in the North Coast Road.