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memories are made of this
(Daily Mail)MY HUSBAND Ross loved statistics. One of them crops up once you reach the age of 50 and have enough money to enjoy the kind of holidays most of us like; by the law of averages there are only a certain number of weeks left in life to enjoy them.
Unlike Ross I can't remember the exact figure, but what I do know is that when you have the opportunity to go somewhere, don't make excuses, but grab the chance - it might be your last.
When we set off to the Caribbean island of Mustique via Barbados, I had no idea this was to be our last holiday together. The timing was convenient; Ross had just returned from covering the elections in Iraq as the Mail's foreign correspondent and arrived just in time for our BA flight to Mustique through Barbados.
Ross was generally over-travelled and as a result would become officious and military at the mere mention of an airport. He'd look at his watch and bark orders about leaving before he was even out of bed, while I packed around him.
He therefore insisted we spent a few days relaxing at Treasure Beach, our favourite hotel in Barbados, instead of taking the small plane directly onto Mustique.
Barbados isn't all footballers' wives and Sandy Lane cocktails, as Ross and I had discovered when we stayed at Treasure Beach on the fashionable West Coast just over ten years ago.
It had recently been bought by businessman Kevin Morley, who spied the little hotel from the sea and made the ultimate romantic gesture by buying it for his wife.
Now a luxurious retreat devoid of day-trip cruisers and noisy children, it is an oasis of calm and has that laidback feel Ross liked so much, having spent so much of his life in large, impersonal hotels.
We never saw the point of going anywhere without getting some of the local flavour and, although there is much more traffic than there was a few years ago, in only ten minutes you can be up in the hills away from the manicured lawns and landscaped gardens.
There among the quaintly painted matchbox houses there is a different world of cane fields, rum bars, tiny villages and magnificent views.
We were so taken by it all we decided it would be fun one morning to see the dawn rise over this unspoiled bit of paradise, but sadly it didn't live up to expectations - it was more like being in Scotland than Barbados with the rain sloshing into the open-topped jeep we had hired.
It was an adventure, however, and by the time we arrived back at the hotel yawning and wet, we agreed it had been worthwhile.
Although we avoided the footballers' wives, we didn't avoid the football - Ross insisted on going to the English Pub a few minutes from our hotel, to watch Chelsea play Liverpool.
Why come to Barbados to watch the football in a pub, I thought? But that was Ross - he could just as well have been in any bar on the Kings Road.
Friends eventually dragged him away to the Planter's Buffet lunch at Fisherpond Great House, a 350-yearold plantation house in magnificent gardens surrounded by cane fields.
Local singer Betty Sheppard serenaded the guests on the piano accompanied by various parrots, while the guests downed Planter's Punches and helped ourselves to the buffet.
They are big on buffets in the Caribbean, but if you want something more European try Daphne's - a Balinese-style eatery on Payne's Bay where we enjoyed a delicious lunch with Trevor Carmichael, the island's leading tax lawyer.
The bill was sizeable, but almost everything in Barbados is expensive.
There are two Barbados dollars to one U.S. dollar - which is also an accepted currency - and they are each worth around 30p.
Every year Wendy Kidd, the mother of the beautiful Jemma, Jodie and Jack, organises an operatic festival in the gardens of their magnificent plantation house, Holders. As we arrived for a pre-festival candlelit dinner I was introduced to a man who looked a bit like Cliff Richard.
'Hi, my name's Cliff Richard,' he said.
Once I could see him through the candlelight, it was embarrassingly obvious and for once I was lost for an answer. But as we were seated with him for dinner there was time to redeem myself.
CLIFF has a house at Sugar Hill near the Royal Westmoreland golf course and his most famous (and regular) guests are Tony and Cherie Blair.
Cliff, dressed in an Elvis- style Hawaiian shirt, was charming and, despite not drinking like the rest of us, got into an earnest discussion with Ross - who turned out to be a closet Cliff Richard fan - about some of his old rock 'n' roll hits.
The evening ended with Ross and Cliff singing Willie And The Hand Jive, with my husband thumping the table for the boomdy-boom bits.
Barbados may boast Cliff and Cilla
Black among its most famous householders but, 40 minutes away by light aircraft, the tiny island of Mustique has more celebrities per square inch than anywhere else in the Caribbean.
Along with every bit of food, they are imported into this fairytale isle at various times of the year. Mick Jagger, Bryan Adams and Tommy Hilfiger all have magnificent houses. In fact there isn't a house among the 92 properties that isn't breathtaking.
Princess Margaret was, of course, the island's most famous resident and Mustique was put on the map when Lord Glenconner (aka Colin Tennant) gave her a ten-acre plot of land for a wedding present when the Royal Yacht Britannia stopped at the tiny isle during her honeymoon in 1960.
Her house, Les Jolies Eaux, has been sold, but the island retains the kind of glamour normally found only in private clubs, as the whole thing belongs to the house owners, most of whom rent out their properties; and is run by the Mustique Company, headed the gorgeous Brian Alexander.
You don't have to be a friend of the rich and famous to stay on Mustique as there is one hotel - a former cotton warehouse called, unsurprisingly, The Cotton House.
Spread over 13 acres with its own beach, swimming pool and holistic spa, it is unadulterated luxury.
Even Ross, who had been almost everywhere, was impressed by our suite, complete with a dip pool, walk-in cupboards and half-in, half-out bathroom surrounded by tropical ferns.
Ross and I spent much of our time in Mustique on the beach, where all we had to do was turn the pages of our books while sucking fresh fruit ice lollies and being cooled by iced towels and an endless supply of drinks.
Weddings are big news here and we met a young couple anxious to escape the hassle of a big family wedding, who came to Mustique instead. They were married in the hotel gardens and were then treated to a sunset boat trip and a romantic dinner. Looking back at our own wedding party in London nearly 20 years before, I wasn't sure if that is what I would have liked - Ross and I wanted ourt friends around us - but it is certainly a romantic option.
Celebrity is never far away on Mustique, and as we were eating dinner on the canopied dining room we were approached by film star Donald Sutherland. For some reason, I thought he had recognised Ross and come to say hello.
But I was wrong. He had come to complain about our smoking, explaining that he was allergic to cigarette smoke. It seemed a bit odd as we were in the open air, but we politely moved.
THE ONLY choice was to head for Basil's Bar, the famous eatery run by the kaftan-wearing Basil, which has a regular weekly 'jump up' with a fantastic reggae band.
Ross wouldn't dance, so we sat under the stars and took in the atmosphere.
No one asked us to stop smoking.
The beaches around Mustique are some of the most wonderful in the world, as we discovered.
Princess Margaret's favourite was Gelliceaux, while Mick Jagger likes Macaroni. We opted for the latter and set off in one of the golf carts that everyone uses, complete with a picnic from the hotel.
The beach lived up to our expectations. Deserted miles of white sand greeted us and a thatched beach hut and table was thoughtfully provided for our picnic.
After only a few minutes, however, a glamorous turbaned lady in a flowing kaftan arrived to say it had been reserved. We then witnessed an amazing scene. An English butler accompanied by local staff appeared with dozens of picnic baskets, wine coolers and plastic containers of ice.
They proceeded to lay a full silver service on the table with crystal glasses, flower arrangements and linen tablecloths.
Feeling like a couple of tramps about to witness Belshazzar's feast, we took off to another beach before the lucky guests arrived.
This one really was deserted - and Ross taught me how to body surf in the waves that, like everything in Mustique, were perfect.
For me, no holiday is complete without a spa treatment, and while Ross enjoyed a massage from an Indonesian therapist, I had a more traditional seaweed wrap.
After six days of lazing, going on boat trips around the island, eating delicious fish and picnicking on the beaches, it was time for reality.
But not quite. Waiting at the tiny thatched airport 'terminal', it was hard to imagine the cold world beyond; and when our flight eventually arrived we had the treat of flying low over a chain of islands to Barbados.
We saw Bequia, where whaling is still practised, Palm Island, Union Island and Cancun, where there is a Trump Casino.
And so ended what was to be our last holiday together. Twenty-four hours after returning home, my husband, who was only 56, had a massive heart attack and died.
It was nothing to do with the flying, just the combination of his stressful life as a war correspondent for so many years and a hitherto unknown weak heart.
It has taken me ages to be able to write about it, but I do so now with affection and fondness. It has strengthened my resolve always to take every opportunity that beckons, because we don't know what is going to happen tomorrow.
I would certainly love to return to Mustique, as it was the place where I had my last bit of paradise with Ross. It will always hold a special place in my heart.
Ingrid Seward is editor of Majesty magazine
Travel Facts CARIBTOURS offers seven nights' accommodation at the Cotton House in Mustique from GBP1,961 per person based on double occupancy and including breakfast, return flights with British Airways and transfers. For reservations, contact Caribtours on 020 7751 0660 or caribtours.co.uk.
TREASURE Beach on Barbados (001 246 432 1346; treasurebeachhotel.com) has suites from GBP144.
FULL Caribbean guide and more deals at thisistravel.co.uk.
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