Inspiring Lives: The Tylers, India Hicks & Harbour Island

A few years ago, I had to fly to a tiny out island in the Bahamas for a photo shoot – one of those rare work treats you get to experience once in a lifetime if you're lucky. Unfortunately, the journey took longer than the photo shoot. Caught in a small hurricane, I had to hole up in Nassau hotel for 4 days until the palm trees were vertical again. Then I got on the wrong ferry and ended up in the Bermuda Triangle somewhere. Two ferries and 48 hours later, I finally landed, staggering like Tom Cruise in Castaway, onto Harbour Island.

This is what I saw.

I was as transfixed as Lady Gaga in a sequins store. After a week of hell,  a swim in a serene sea, a hefty cocktail, and a couple of nights of calm, Hurricane-free sleep were all I could think of. Thankfully, my new friend, Toby Tyler,  happily obliged.

Toby, you see, is part-owner, with his wife and mother-in-law, Ms Brenda Barry, of The Landing (above), an incredibly beautiful boutique hideaway with an huge international reputation.

He's a Australian, a former Sydney restaurateur. His wife, Tracy Barry, is Bahamian, a former New York model. They met at a dinner party in Sydney. Or a blind date? I can't remember but they disliked each other at first. Toby introduced himself by telling a sob story about his life and business. Ever the cheeky wit, Tracy casually replied: "Well top this–" and proceeded to trump him with a truly worthy tale about getting divorced and losing all the international property she and her Brazilian husband had collated in the settlement. She only thing she received, she said, was a small hotel on an even smaller place called Harbour Island.

Impressed by her sad narrative, they bonded. A few days later, they fell in love. Aint sob stories grand?

A few months later, they travelled to this small island to inspect this small hotel. (They had the children later. They're highly productive hoteliers, but not that productive!)

Their original plan had been to sell the hotel, but when they travelled to the island to assess the property and found themselves standing in front of two of the most architecturally significant buildings in the Bahamas, on an island that was arguably the prettiest in the greater Caribbean, they decided to put down their bags and stay.

As Toby says: “I fell in love twice; once with my wife, and then with her island.”

With typical Aussie enthusiasm – and a lot of Bahamian beer – they set about restoring the two buildings: an 1820 plantation-style house, built by the first doctor on the island, and a neighbouring 1820 property called The Captain’s House, which is just as gracious. They also got around to getting married. Then, at 8AM on September 14th, 1999, Hurricane Floyd hit. The 155mph winds tore the building apart again. A quarter of the island's extraordinary architecture, including The Landing, was destroyed. The Tylers were heartbroken. Fortunately, the bones of their buildings were still standing, even if the roofs weren't, so they deliberated the way forward.

Enter India Hicks, daughter of famed London designer David Hicks, and granddaughter of Lord Mountbatten. She offered to help rebuild The Landing, if they would accept it. Together, the Tylers, India and her partner David Flint-Wood, set to work bringing The Landing back to life.

The Tylers' new venture, a stylish hotel and restaurant with the feel of a welcoming, colonial-style island home was so different from anything else in the Bahamas, it attracted guests right from the start. Although their children, as most island kids are, were fairly blase about the celebrity factor.

It also helped that Harbour Island is one of the most idyllic destinations you can imagine. Think of the charm and clapboard prettiness of New England's architecture crossed with the pastel colours of the Caribbean, then throw in an extraordinarily beautiful pink beach, a charming bustling harbour, a lot of eccentric but marvellous (and astonishingly good-looking) locals, and a culture that's part colonial British and part Bahamian, and then wrap it up in an island that's only a few miles long. The place is enchanting. No wonder people like India Hicks live there.

Since then, the Tylers have raised four children, seen hundreds of thousands of guests pass happily through their restaurant and rooms, chatted to the likes of Bette Midler and Mick Jagger, (Mick's a regular), and received an invitation from Richard Gere to design one of his restaurants. Which they graciously did.

They've also had a few parties, had a few more, made some rum (Afrohead; a great label), laughed a whole lot, and generally had the kind of life we all dream about.

So where does this story lead? Well, when I first stepped foot on this place, bedraggled, hurricane-weary and five days behind in my work schedule, my first thought was: This would make a beautiful book. It was such an inspirational story. The first date. The hurricane heartbreak. The love. And when journalists hear wonderful stories, their noses twitch with excitement like Jack Russells on the scent of a rabbit. I knew then I would do everything I could to orchestrate a book on this beautiful family, and this idyllic place. It was a story that needed to be told.

Five years later, we're getting close. We're now in the process of creating an extraordinary book. An extraordinary book about an extraordinary couple.

Now the Tylers don't need anything in their lives. They have everything. But what they do need is to be recognised. Celebrated. Applauded and cheered with rum-filled drinks. And I will do everything I can to ensure that happens.

www.harbourislandlanding.com

(If you're lucky, you can grab a $200 return flight from New York to Nassau. From there's it's only a short ferry ride. And the prices are so reasonable, you can easily stay a week!) {Party and family photos by Cookie Kinkead or Tracy Barry, via Tracy Barry. All architecture images by me.}

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Escaping to The Village of Islands

I want to say a heartfelt thanks to all of The Library's beautiful readers, and especially those who have taken the time to post thoughtful comments these past two weeks. Reading them has made my heart sing as we've travelled through the US. I also want to apologise for the pathetic lack of posting from this end. It's never nice (or polite) to neglect a blog for too long, but I hope you'll bear with me. You see, we've been a tad distracted of late. We've actually been on our honeymoon.

It's actually our 'Rehearsal Honeymoon' (or 'Faux Moon' as RR calls it), but as it's the only honeymoon we'll ever get, it's official enough for me! (The nuptials are very soon, but as my partner is super-private, I'll probably be as shy about posting details of those as well.)

I don't want to bore you senseless with photos (and admittedly I haven't taken many, for once in my life), but I would like to show you a glimpse of where we stayed, an enchanting hideaway called The Moorings, down on the Florida Keys. It is, quite simply, my favourite place in the USA. And quite possibly the world.

PS A special thanks to my new friend Pamela (or 'The Diplomat's Wife', as RR calls her) who has been updating me on her European travels via the Comments on this blog. Pamela, you see, is also celebrating a honeymoon of sorts – her second! So it's quite fitting that we've been exchanging correspondence via our blogs. Pamela, I do hope this trip is as memorable and as wonderful as your marriage / relationship has been all these years.

I first stumbled across The Moorings three years ago when I came here for a photo shoot. I took one look at the beach, the idyllic little houses and the whole understated beauty of it all and fell head-over-palm tree in love. Everyone does. Even George Bush Sr. was won over by its endearing charm. The former president stayed here the same time I did and was reportedly so enamoured with the place he now returns each year to go fishing. Just him, a few mates and half a dozen Secret Service. (Bet those Secret Service men pull straws to get that gig!)

This is where Georgie stays. Beautiful, isn't it? Apparently he's a very nice man, according to Thomas Gibson, The Moorings' manager. I lean towards the Democrats myself (unlike my partner who is a firm Republican man!), but I'd happily have Georgie stay next door again. No loud music. No mooning out the windows. No running around the beach naked with a US flag draped over the nether bits. Those Republicans are obviously a discreet lot. (Unlike my Democrats who roared through New York yesterday in a cavalcade worthy of North Korea. I waved to the President as he passed – I just happened to be on Madison Ave at the time – but the Tour de President flew by so fast all I caught was some exhaust fumes out of 10 or so of the cavalcade cars. Mr President, perhaps you may like to consider riding a bike next time? I have a Schwinn. It's very handy for getting around town.)

But back to The Moorings. The estate is actually a former coconut plantation situated in a tucked-away place called Islamorada, which means 'Village of Islands'. (Beautiful name, isn't it? I'd love to put 'Village of Islands' as my address.) Unlike the cute name, the property was an eyesore when the owner, Hubert Baudoin, bought it. All it had were a handful of derelict old beach houses, a scattering of rusted cars, and a whole lotta palm trees blocking the view. A true visionary, Mr Baudoin spent the next few years painstakingly and lovingly restoring the property into the magical escape it is today. An anti-resort, it features just 18 cottages on 18 acres, which means you rarely see another person. And that suited my fake husband just fine!

The grand house with the blue shutters above was actually built by Mr Baudoin for his mother. He wanted a place for her to stay when she came to visit. So he knocked this little French Colonial number up. As you do. Mrs Baudoin spends half of the year in Africa and the other half in Paris, so the interior is a mix of French glamour and Out of Africa. I've seen inside. It's fabulous.

This is what Mrs Baudoin uses to drive around the islands. It's a Bentley. Personally, I think a Bentley is perfect for purring around the Keys. I like the garage too.

We didn't stay at The Great House. It's really only for presidents and people like J.Lo, not unknown plebs from Australia. But we did stay somewhere just as gorgeous. This was our cutie (above).

Here's another darling one with pink shutters. I asked the Hubster if we could buy a beach house with pink shutters one day? He was on the hammock at the time and muttered something beneath his political book that sounded like a profanity. But I could have been wrong. It could have been: "Of course honey".

This is him saying "Of course we can buy a beachhouse!". I swear I heard it. I'm positive it wasn't the palm trees whispering.

Seven other words you always long to hear are: "We'd like to give you an upgrade". This is what happened when we went to rent our usual Hyundai cheapie in Miami beach. Instead of the ol' Hynie, we received this: a black Mustang convertible. Talk about an upgrade.

Unfortunately, it was wasted on us. As we both burn easily, we only took the top down for three minutes to take this posy photo. Yes, we drove all the way down the Keys in a convertible with the top UP! For all we knew, we could have been driving the yellow Hyundai.

The place is so beautiful there are orchids growing out of the trees. Like weeds. Can you imagine a place where orchids are as prolific as weeds? I couldn't until I saw it for my own eyes.

They had my books in the Lobby / Reception, but I think they just put them there because they knew I was coming. That's the kind of thoughtful, generous thing they do at The Moorings.

More details: www.themooringsvillage.com. If you ever have a chance to stay here, do so, as it really is worth it. Thank you to Thomas and the lovely staff – who treat every guests as well as the president. We're so grateful to have stayed here.

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