Super Duper Aruba

The first time I heard the word Aruba I assumed it was the latest trendy name celebrities were calling their daughters. But I soon realized it won’t be joining Fifi, Bluebell and Elbowgrease (OK, I made that one up) in my VIP column.

Instead, Aruba is one of the least commercialized Caribbean islands, so far south few Brits have holidayed there. Just 17 miles north of Venezuela, it is a popular destination for Americans –thousands go each year. But now they’re about to be invaded by us.

I stayed at the Bucuti Beach Resort, one of the low-rise hotels on the Dutchowned island. Aruba is split into two –one half dotted with low-rise buildings, the other with more US-style high rises.

Situated right on the sea, Bucuti Beach was definitely popular with those craving a romantic holiday –I witnessed several weddings and even more proposals during a week’s stay there.

I couldn’t blame them. The rooms were beautiful and the hotel’s bosses had set up four tables on the beach for couples to have what would probably be the most intimate candlelit dinner of their lives.

Sadly, I wasn’t there as half of a loved-up couple so I had to find other ways to amuse myself. Thankfully, there were enough restaurants and bars to keep me out of trouble –or rather get me into it...

The capital Oranjestad is no party-crazed resort like Magaluf or Playa De Las Americas. But what it lacks in glitz is more than made up for in taste.

Mr. Jazz is a salsa club with a big dance-floor for couples to show off their moves. A few salsa lessons didn’t enable me to compete with the more experienced Arubans, so I watched from the wings, glass of Pinot Grigio in hand.

Next I tried Senor Frogs, where the singles crowd and margarita-drinkers mingle. It’s the biggest club on Aruba and it’s advisable to take your cossie because there’s a water-flume there.

For those who want a less rowdy night there’s Sopranos, a piano bar with a fab singer called Tammy T. She’s like a human jukebox –she’ll sing what you want and usually do it better than the original artiste.

But Aruba is more famous for its restaurants than its clubs. Most are situated on or very close to the beach, so there’s only one thing you’ll choose on the menu –fish.

I tried several during my stay and most menus were similar –lots of prawns and white fish with a bit of steak for good measure. Wine was plentiful and it would be rude not to try the local beer Balashi.

Charlie’s Bar –which offers chips with its fish- is also highly recommended. It is decorated solely with things previous diners have left behind –coins, driving licenses, bikinis, tickets, you name it.

Aruba’s a laid-back sort of place so you’d be forgiven for spending all of your time on a sunbed. But for the more active, there are many attractions. I had a half-day desert tour in an animal-print jeep.

Then we took a 10-minute ferry crossing to a quiet private island –a far cry from my previous night at Senor Frogs- where I eased my hangover with a spot of snorkeling.

After a near-death sea experience in Cornwall 10 years ago, I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to water. But this was so calm, not to mention so beautifully blue, that I made an exception –and I’m so glad I did.

The fish came in nearly every color and the views were some of the prettiest I have ever experienced. Later, I enjoyed a three-hour cruise around the island with skipper Endel stopping several times to allow us to go snorkeling.

There were also potent Sex On The Beach cocktails on tap. Other attractions include trekking in Aruba’s National Park and it’s worth visiting the museum in Oranjestad. The capital also boasts great shopping –from markets to designer stores, it has something for everyone.

Unlike some other Caribbean islands, Aruba is safe. Employment is almost 100 percent and the people are lovely –except the waiting staff who laughed at me when I fell over a dodgy paving stone at a restaurant I won’t name.