The Caribbean’s Best New Rooftop Bar Sits Above a 150-Year-Old Beachfront Rum Distillery 

There was a rum distillery here a century and a half ago. Today, it’s a sugarcane memory, steps from the beach on the eastern coast of Martinique. But there’s still rum here, in more ways than one. 

The Hardy family has been making rum in some form for more than five generations, and while the still is just an artifact, the cane field out back is still lush and swaying, and the shop is filled with a range of white and well-aged expressions of very fine Martinique rhum agricole. 

It’s a testament to the power of family, of passion, of the enduring story of Martinique’ most famous export, of a legacy that Jean-Pascal Hardy stewards today. 

But there’s something else on the Hardy estate that will draw you here: one of the coolest rooftop bars you’ll ever see, set in the low-key little beach town of Tartane, a place most famous for its surf breaks.  

Walk up a staircase through the ruins of the old distillery and there it is, the Rooftop at Hardy: a broad platform filled with tables, lamps, chairs and stunning views of the Atlantic coast of this endlessly fascinating Caribbean island. The formula is simple: the rum comes from the shop downstairs, joined by a lovely menu of tapas-style offerings and some delicious rillettes (I loved the tahitienne with perfectly crispy crackers). 

You can take it however you like: straight up (for that, it’s the XO); in a ti’ punch, the island’s national drink; or in a cocktail like the lovely “Jack Sparrow. 

I tried what I called the ti’ paille — a ti ‘punch (rum, sugar and lime, to the uninitiated) made not with white rum but with Hardy’s unique, lightly aged rhum paille. It was spectacular. 

There’s no music here; just the breeze and the waves; no TVs; just the nearby cays. 

It’s one of those instantly magical places; in a place where the still stopped 150 years ago, for a moment — or a few sips — time stops still. First, there’s the magnificent sunset; then, as twilight arrives, the lamps on the tables turn on and there’s another hue to the light. 

You see a different kind of creativity in Martinique; a passion, an energy that can turn what some would see as a disposable relic into something with new life, where you can convert an old rum distillery into something you’d never have imagined. 

A place like this could only be in Martinique.

Everyone faces forward, looking out toward Martinique’s blue spectrum, watching the lap of the waves, lifting their drinks. It all feels surreal, like you’ve stepped in through the back of a painting.