How becoming a parent took me from adventure travel to all-inclusive

Once upon a time, two girls met at university and bonded over a love of fun, fashion and foreign travel. The last blossomed as the friendship grew, and spilt into summer holiday jobs in Greek bars, Alpine ski trips and Indian adventures.

One of us married a pilot, and the other (me) built a career in journalism around it, giving us far-flung destinations aplenty to dissect with relish. With a fussiness only afforded to the  unencumbered, we prided ourselves on exploring, adventuring and finding undiscovered bolt-holes at bargain prices.

Until, that is, one of us (not me) had a baby, and I was unceremoniously banned from discussing my travels until I too had children and “understood” the kind of holiday resorts my friend was now seeking out.

The kind of places where the luxury is comfortable, accessible and unintimidating, the entertainment is spoon-fed, and where it is, by and large, always sunny. The kind of places where nothing is allowed to get in the way of the very serious business of relaxing. The kind of places, in short, that most of the world wants to go to.

“I just want to be anywhere where it’s sunny, where I don’t need to worry about anything,” she told me, not a bit apologetically.

Eleven years on from my (tongue-in-cheek) ban, I am also a fully paid-up member of the parenting club with children aged nine and six. As a travel editor my holiday brief hasn’t changed much, but after a couple of exciting but exhausting adventures, relaxing sounded like just the kind of thing our family could cope with. And so it was that, in a rather fabulous turnaround for our October half-term, we found ourselves heading to the Caribbean for an all-inclusive week away.

Of course, Turks and Caicos isn’t “just anywhere” – it’s pretty far-flung (the BA flight takes around 11 hours with an hour’s stop in Antigua) and there is so much on offer at its Beaches Resort that doing nothing isn’t really an option either. But sunshine and relaxation are both on tap – however you choose to take yours.

With vanilla shores and turquoise seas as warm as a bath – so clear you can see your shadow on the sand when you swim – Turks and Caicos is famed for some of the best beaches in the world. Really, any self-respecting family shouldn’t require anything more for the perfect holiday. But at Beaches, it’s hardly more than a foil for the many and varied watersports you can try. Paddle-boarding, kayaking, sea bikes, snorkelling, diving and thrice-daily glass-bottomed boat trips (this is the third-biggest barrier reef in the world, with occasional sightings of turtles) are all included.

But it’s in the resort itself that all the action really happens, from pool workouts to Sesame Street parades (you can have the characters come and tuck your children in, or join them for breakfast) to a weekly fish fry and local craft market. Even the golf carts that ferry guests around (dubbed by the children as “limo buggies”, or “luggies”) are exciting. A daily newsletter helps you plan your daily agenda – the only problem being, there’s never time to fit it all in.

The resort’s four “villages”, attractively distinguished by different architecture, are each built around supersize swimming pools. The onus at these pools is on fun, not peace and quiet, with butler service, swim-up bars, and speakers pumping feel-good tunes throughout the day. Warning: the music is loud, and gets louder as the day goes on. And this isn’t even at the Italian village, where the beats are so bombastic you can’t make yourself heard across the sunbeds. Regulars (of which there are many) tell me they complain about the racket every time they come. Still, someone must like it – it never changes, after all.

But there is a quieter, boutique side to the resort. Away from the giant pool of the Italian village is Key West, its newest, most contemporary luxury village. This is built around pretty walkways and smaller, lawned squares (no music!) where you can play a game of giant chess, lounge in a swing chair or swim in one of two much smaller, stylish pools. There’s a shady library stocked with recent novels and classic board games. There’s also a second spa where children are welcomed with colouring books and activities in the suitably Zen-like relaxation room (even my children fell under the spell of calm). It offers a treatment menu for kids, tweens and teens, and therapist Cassandra gave me an expertly blissful massage.

Our suite was a haven of family luxe, with the emphasis on space and convenience over flashy fixtures and fittings. Everything was designed to make life as stress-free as possible, and our butler (bear with!) ensured it had a ready supply of chocolate chip cookies, canapés and mouthwatering treats, not to mention daily extreme towel art. On Hallowe’en, the display Fitzroy created from the children’s toys, cereal boxes and sugar paper would have made any Blue Peter presenter weep with envy.

But you haven’t got past the “b” word, have you? Yes, from 7am to 9pm every day, Dane or Fitzroy were but a phone call away whenever we needed them, wherever we were on the resort. Let’s face it, when you’re already paying upwards of £6,800 a week, paying extra to have someone wait on you hand and foot could seem an unnecessary expense – particularly when one’s every whim has already been catered for by the resort itself. And we probably didn’t use them to their full potential, instead punctuating our day with them in the role of “fixer” – bringing snacks and lunch to the pool or beach, booking and setting up cabanas, securing particular tables in one of the many restaurants – which took any residual organisational strain out of the week. Since these are usually my jobs, I appreciated the butlers more than anyone else.

In peak season (when we visited, the resort was only two-thirds full) this service would be indispensable. There is a tipping ban across the resort, which removes the pressure of “how much and when”, but butlers are exempt from this.

But back to the family, where holiday negotiations often centred on the water park: when we were going (again), how long for, how many times mum and dad would go down the red slide, and would mum ever go on the blue (I didn’t). Between said slides and the lazy river (conveniently flanked by the pop-up ice cream van and the mac and cheese van), this was definitely the big hitter of the holiday.

The surf simulator also provided hours of fun. Even I had a go, then   retired disgracefully after a spectacular wipe out when, having recovered from laughing, I realised I’d fallen out of my bikini and everyone else in the queue was laughing at me, not with me.

We really only scratched the surface of the other entertainment options. We only went to the impressive kids’ club for occasional games of table hockey, and as Sesame Street refuseniks the children couldn’t be persuaded to join in with the weekly parade, breakfasts or bedtime tuck-ins.

Similarly, we began the week determined to try every restaurant on site (food everywhere was consistently big on portions and tasty), but inevitably once favourites had been identified the temptation to return was too great. Ours was Schooners, a beachside restaurant with live music and a lively team, and where each evening ended with the conga – as all good holiday evenings should.

Old habits die hard, and we couldn’t come this far without wanting to see beyond the resort at least once or twice, albeit via resort island trips. We opted for a sunset trip and a dune buggy tour, which were both high on price yet low on content. We left the island none the wiser about history or culture, which even with our “do nothing” aim felt a bit lame. You’d be better advised to hire a taxi for an island tour for a couple of hours.

Sunsets in Turks and Caicos are Insta-spectacular, but suitably beguiling viewing spots are at a premium in the resort. We found the best idea was to perch at the little tables that line the jetty. There are other, unexpected charms, though – a stork roams the resort, as does a mother hen with three chicks and a cat with the obligatory scraggy kittens.

At the beach party and barbecue, after limbo and line dancing (yes, we did both), when the host asked if any of the guests were returners, more than half raised their hands. I can see why. Beaches has set the bar for family fun, where it’s sunny, where you don’t need to worry about anything.

On one of the few occasions I picked up my phone during the week, I texted my friend. “Guess what – we’re at Beaches Turks and Caicos. What are you up to?” Her answer? “Beaches Jamaica.”

Old habits, it appears, really do die hard.

Essentials

Claire Irvin was a guest of Beaches Turks & Caicos (0800 597 0002; beaches.co.uk) which offers seven nights in a Seaside Two Bedroom Luxury Butler Suite from £10,720 for a family of four sharing. The price includes return BA flights from London Gatwick, all-inclusive accommodation for two adults and two children, plus resort transfers.  Valid for travel on Nov 7 2019. Beaches Turks & Caicos is closing for set dates later this year and next, then indefinitely from January 2021. Travellers should check dates and book within the next 18 months.

I Love Valet Parking at Gatwick Airport costs from £87 for seven days from Holiday Extras (0800 955 5989; holidayextras.co.uk).