Review from Tatler's Travel Guide 2012
Cool, calm Caribbean colonialism: they don't come more laidback or luscious than GoldenEye. This is where Ian Fleming hammered out 14 Bond novels, and where the author and his beat-up typewriter came, others followed – Noel Coward, of course, but also Truman Capote, Cecil Beaton and Errol Flynn. Then it was the Seventies and a whole new world of fun arrived with Island Records founder Chris Blackwell (think Bob Marley, U2), who put up a few more villas for his rockstar friends. And the party goes on. Last Christmas, the hotel unveiled 11 new cottages along the beach, six beside the lagoon and a whopping wooden bridge that teeters across the ludicrously turquoise waters. Yes, it smacks of Bond-villain grandiosity – but it works, fiendishly well. The formula? Just make the rooms so simple and gorgeous (soul-stilling wood, sofas big enough to lose Grace Jones in, direct sightlines from pillow to gin-clear sea) that most guests will rarely leave them. If they do, there's the perfect pale beach, an Olympic triathlete running the spa, and lovely jetski-instructing twins Dave and Dane. Riotous vegetation, thrilling cliffs, a great big hullabaloo of crickets and frogs – GoldenEye is one of those places that feels like it's all yours even when it's full to the rafters.