There’s a deer outside the window.
It’s the only visitor we’ve had all day; but it’s not a stranger, regularly stopping by the window several times each day, curious as to the newest guests at the Maho Bay House.
We’re here in the green hills above Maho Bay beach in St John, at just about the only house in the entire valley, surrounded by and immersed in the Virgin Islands National Park.
It’s a rarity in this part of the world, an American national park covering nearly two thirds of the entire island of St John, a pristine natural wonderland at the edge of the Caribbean Sea.
And the Maho Bay House is smack in the middle of it.
There’s something magical about this place; you know it the moment you drive the Jeep up the hill and peer out; there’s just green and more green, trees on top of trees on top of a beach.
It’s impossibly quiet; even the nearby sands of Maho are silent from here, the water quiet; it’s a still life from every angle, a landscape painted fresh each morning.
And while it’s in the middle of a park, built seamlessly within its natural environment, the Maho Bay House is as spectacular as any luxury villa in the islands; from its magnificent chef’s kitchen to a cliffside infinity pool to the lovely fact that every standalone bedroom is a master bedroom.
It’s an inspired design by the St John-based Barefoot Architects, who created a modern-contemporary villa sheathed in an historic stone style.
And then there’s the four-minute walk to Maho Bay Beach, easily one of the most beautiful beaches in all of the Caribbean – and, some would argue, the best on St John.
“Maho Bay House is a very special villa,” says Shanna Dickerson, whose Blue Sky Luxury Travels’ portfolio includes the property.
And it’s true.
You feel the privilege of being here, of experiencing the Maho Bay House and the National Park.
You feel it when the sky darkens, and the solar torch lamps wave on their stone walls, and you feel that you’re in another time.
And then you look up at the sky and see a starscape uncorrupted by the built environment, unpolluted by light and modernity; the same sky they were looking at when the lamps weren’t powered by the sun.
And then you look around and you listen again, and you hear the evening orchestra of the forest.
And then you remember it wasn’t the deer who was the visitor.
For more, visit the Maho Bay House.
See more in the latest CJ Video at the top of the page.
— CJ