The approach to Providenciales Airport is the kind of descent — fraught with a nagging dread that increases by the minute — that could give even more nervous fliers heart palpitations. Why? Because beyond the window, as the plane descends lower and lower, there is absolutely nothing but an all-encompassing, horizon-spanning, oceanic blue.
Everything will be fine of course. A runway magically appears beneath the wheels, and the plane glides to a stop without incident. But long before you land, you’re aware that the Turks and Caicos Islands are no rugged St Lucia, with two Pitons scanning the sky; no volcanic Nevis pushing its caldera into the clouds. These are flat coral islands, so low to the Caribbean Sea that you will barely see them before you set foot on them. Five kilometers north of the airport, the Blue Hills ridge is, so to speak, the highest peak of the archipelago, with a height of 49 meters. You will also have difficulty recognizing it.
I step onto the tarmac, in a Providenciales International that similarly makes no claims of great size or status. You can’t mistake it for Barbados’ Grantley Adams Airport, with its near-constant roar of departing engines, and its retired Concorde museum piece. The Virgin Atlantic Boeing 787 from which I emerged resembles a condor among finches, high above the smaller planes and private jets scattered throughout the airport. It looks so big I wonder how it got here.
Perhaps the most important point is that the plane is there – and that it is a novelty. Sir Richard Branson’s red-colored airline began flying between London Heathrow and Providenciales last November – launching what is currently the only non-stop air link between Britain and the Turks and Caicos Islands (British Airways also serves Providenciales – but only after a break in Nassau, Bahamas.)
This is slightly surprising news. Because despite its resolutely Caribbean location – north of Haiti and the Dominican Republic, due east of Cuba, a stone’s throw southeast of the Bahamas – the Turks and Caicos Islands is a British Overseas Territory (BOT). In fact, the third largest by population (after the Cayman Islands and Bermuda). Moreover, the Union Jack has been flying here for a long time – the islands have been linked to Great Britain since 1783. They passed through various administrative frameworks during that period, merging at various times with the Bahamas and then with Jamaica. But since 1959 they have been a separate entity, with their own government – and since 2002 a BOT.
In other words, a direct flight between London and Providenciales should have taken place long ago before November – even if the size of the destination does not require its own page in the atlas. What the Turks and Caicos Islands lack in height, they don’t make up for in size. Not to any real extent. Indeed, you have to scan the map carefully for the ‘Turkish’ half of the equation – eight pinpricks on the eastern side of the archipelago – the largest of which, the optimistically named Grand Turk, covers just seven square kilometers. You could fit it eight times in Middle Caicos, the largest fragment (55.7 square miles) of the greater Caicos Islands. But hey, these things are relative. Providenciales is the most populous piece of the puzzle, home to approximately 24,000 of the archipelago’s 44,500 residents. Yet it only adds 38 square kilometers to the total.
Yet this is one of those situations where size doesn’t matter. Because Providenciales is not only the population center, but also the main point of interest for vacationers. Tourism is the archipelago’s main revenue stream, accounting for over a third of GDP (35 percent) – well ahead of the second most important segment, financial services (13 percent).
Evidence of this rule of attraction can be found along the north coast, in a gleaming chain of luxury resorts – and luxury is certainly the word here. The Turks and Caicos Islands are not a place for bargains; not so much a convenient three-star fly-and-flop zone as an unapologetic five-star playground. In most cases, this catering for the wealthy is discreet: chic villas and sophisticated beach accommodations. In other cases it is quite intrusive; not least the enormous Ritz-Carlton hotel, which overlooks the village of Grace Bay.
Three miles to the west, the Wymara Resort is much closer to the ‘discreet’ end of the market. It stretches either side of a pool that almost lures you in as soon as you arrive, with softly lit shallow waters and curtained sunbeds waiting just outside the lobby. The rooms and suites (91 in total) are a blur of white, walls and linens cast in the same pale shade. Balconies overlook a powdery beach and the warm swell of the sea – that Caribbean blue framed by a line of rugged spray, where waves crash incessantly on the coral reef half a mile offshore. A bit further on the southern edge of Providenciales – the island is just a short stretch where it narrows in the middle – the Wymara Villas complex repeats the trick.
The voices around the pool are largely American – another clue as to why a direct flight from Britain has only just been added to the timetable. It may be a chicken-and-egg situation, but despite the long-standing connection with Britain, the British simply have not traveled to the Turks and Caicos in large numbers. The islands attracted 1.6 million visitors in 2019 before the pandemic; 82 percent of them came from the United States, another 9 percent from Canada. Only 4 percent came from Europe.
The stars and stripes are always within reach, wherever you turn. Providenciales Airport’s departure boards are largely dedicated to US cities, with Boston, Chicago, Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Philadelphia, Minneapolis, New York, Dallas, Baltimore and Washington DC all present and correct. Restaurant menus – including at Wymara’s flagship Indigo, where chef Andrew Mirosch runs the show – are typically priced in US dollars. In Grace Bay, the souvenir shops – with their racy T-shirts and flashy gifts – seem aimed more at midwestern snowbirds than West Country sun seekers. And Danny Buoy’s, a sports bar on the main drag of Grace Bay Road, is a prime example. The giant cutouts on the front wall do not refer to Messi, Ronaldo or Harry Kane, but to Patrick Mahomes – the star quarterback of the Kansas City Chiefs. The drinks list is spring break nirvana; a chorus of dazzling shots and ambiguous cocktails, for $12 (£9.40) each.
Virgin Atlantic’s new presence on the island will not cause a sudden shift in this image or demographic. But that’s not necessary. Real life will shine through if you look for it – especially at Da Conch Shack, a popular Providenciales hotspot where the accents at the tables on the sand are as local as they are American. This also applies to the food; a filling bounty of conch fritters and grouper fillets. And the entertainment too. As the evening lengthens, a Junkanoo performance breaks out on the beach, the rhythms of which grow louder as the parade moves along the shore – until the drummers and dancers step into the light and make merry in every available space. Gloriously infectious, the ritual has its roots in the darkness of slavery, taking shape in the 18th century on the sugar plantations of the British Caribbean (particularly in Jamaica and the Bahamas). Tonight it’s all brightness and joy.
The scene is considerably quieter, but no less captivating, if you venture to the eastern end of Providenciales, where the land breaks up into calm waters and smaller bays. Among them, Mangrove Cay is a perfect setting for a relaxing morning in a kayak, its rough coral swaddled – as its name suggests – in swampy foliage. The canals surrounding it, on the other hand, are pristine and remarkably clear; so much so that you can spot the green, leatherback and loggerhead turtles that haunt these waters long before they surface – heads with sharp beaks bobbing curiously up between the plastic bows.
From the same departure point, the Blue Haven Marina, you can go further and faster on a catamaran tour. Doing this will give me a better understanding of the size of the Caicos Bank, the coral barrier along the north coast – by some measures the third largest reef system in the world (after the Great Barrier Reef and the Great Mayan Reef).
The plan is initially to aim for Pine Cay, a sparse and (largely) uninhabited outcrop slightly to the northeast – but as the ship tiptoes through an opening into the open ocean, the swell tosses and rolls in clear protest. , revealing both the strength of the current and the level of protection provided by the archipelago’s coral conservationist. So we retreat, back to the shelter of Mangrove Cay, to swim and snorkel in less demanding waves. The Turks and Caicos Islands no longer look like mountains from this exact sea level – but with the sun shining and the sky immaculately blue, nothing could matter less.
How do you get there?
Virgin Atlantic (0344 874 7747) flies twice a week from London Heathrow to the Turks and Caicos Islands. Economy return fares cost from £616 per person.
Stay there
“Garden Studio” double rooms at Wymara Resort and Villas (001 888 844 5986) cost from US$800 (£631) per night, including breakfast.
Exploring there
Kayak and catamaran tours can be arranged through Luxury Experiences Turks & Caicos and Big Blue Collective (bigbluecollective.com).
More information
turksandcaicostourism.com