Intimate Caribbean

During late-afternoon tea, a waiter says I must not miss the regular Sunday night concert nearby on Shirley Heights. It turns out to be great advice. The view alone is worth a great deal more than the $10 admission fee.

A winding, well-paved road climbs the mountain, ending at the crest with a 360-degree view of the land and sea below, and a setting sun above. The smell of barbecued jerk chicken fills the air. A steel band is warming up a crowd composed equally of locals and tourists. By the time a reggae band takes the stage, everyone is ready to dance.

The mosquitoes, too, have come out in force, and we have forgotten to bring repellent. The bugs don't seem much interested in me but feast on my daughter.

The following day we traverse the island for our night at the Siboney Beach Club, where rooms range from $190 to $325 in winter, $150 to $205 in summer. Lunch at the hotel's open-air restaurant overlooking the beach comes first, and we find ourselves seated next to the British woman we'd chatted with at Cocos.

The hotel isn't as distinctive as the other two properties, but each room is a suite, the bedroom is air-conditioned and a freshwater pool is shaded by a lush garden. Best of all, the beach -- shared with a nearby Sandals property -- is excellent.

Thinking I'll eat out for dinner, I ask the bartender where the locals dine.

"Kentucky Fried Chicken," he answers, then laughs and suggests two family-owned options.

After lunch, when we check in, the owner, doing desk duty, remarks on the bites on my daughter's arms. He pokes around the office but can't find an ointment. A few minutes later, as we unpack, we hear a knock. An employee has been dispatched to deliver an anti-itch cream.

One of the small services of the sort you come to expect at a small resort.