Inspired by those ubiquitous but catchy Bahamavention ads that have lined subway-car interiors of late, a friend and I decided to pack up and head to Eleuthera, Bahamas, in search of sun, sleep and maybe a new bikini or two. The island traffics in the first two; the latter, not so much.

Wiped out by Hurricane Andrew in 1992—which shuttered a Club Med on the island for good—the 110-mile-long island, just 225 miles from Miami, looks like a prehistoric rock outcropping. There’s not a lot there, but the barrenness adds to the beauty. It’s easy to get to, but it feels dramatically remote.

Our cab driver, “Big Daddy,” who shepherded us from the shack-like airport to our resort, laughed that there are more beaches than people. This might be true. At a few points, the island’s width stretches to two miles; at others, it’s a mere 100 feet—as you cross the Glass Window Bridge (a single lane over a sliver of rock), you’ll see the deep, blue Atlantic ocean on one side (90 feet deep) and the cerulean Caribbean (five feet deep) on the other. What this means: Most of the island is composed of beachfront property.

There aren’t many places to stay, though several big resorts are slated to open in the next year. Condolike lodgings comprise Pineapple Fields (Governors Harbour, 877-677-9539; from $175), while Surfer’s Beach Manor offers modest, kitchen-equipped accommodations (Surfer’s Beach, 242-335-5300; from $89). We elected to stay at The Cove (Queen’s Hwy, Gregory Town, 800-552-5960; from $235), a newly refurbished, tucked-away spot that boasts 26 beachside bungalows, tennis courts, a pool, a restaurant and two pristine beaches. Each chic, kitchenless mini-house is swathed in high-thread-count sheets, white wicker furniture, and tropically hued throw pillows and lamps. Despite these amenities, you won’t find a TV, clock, phone or lock on your bungalow’s door.

It took a few hours to adjust to this laid-back, technology-free haven. After downing a morning welcome cocktail and slipping on a bathing suit, I still carried my BlackBerry down to the beach—even though for the first time in five years, it showed no reception bars. And it took me even longer to stop worrying about leaving belongings in the room (there is a safe at the front desk). But a dose of sun and a few daiquiris later, we stopped bothering to shut the door at all.

While comfortable chairs, umbrellas, a surplus of fluffy white towels and an incredibly friendly staff—all anxious to get and keep you drunk—makes beach time here alluring, there are a host of other activities, too. Several empty and pristine stretches of pink sand—including the aptly titled Surfer’s Beach—are within cycling distance (they keep a fleet of bicycles for guests to borrow), and there’s fishing, snorkeling and diving as well. But be warned: These seas are theoretically part of the Bermuda Triangle.

You can rent a car ($60 a day) directly from the Cove if you’re interested in more far-flung destinations, like the stalagmite-lined limestone cave at Hatchet Bay or Elvina’s Restaurant (Gregory Town, 242-335-5032), which hosts open-mike nights on Tuesdays and Fridays that are sometimes frequented by Lenny Kravitz. Every Friday, there’s usually an outdoor deejayed fish fry, where you can score a full meal for under $15. Though the restaurant at the Cove is supposedly the best on the island, we consumed a lot of overpriced cheeseburgers (rumors abounded that the chef had absconded either to the Beijing Olympics or the Coral Sands Resort on Harbour Island). Tippy’s, attached to Pineapple Fields, is another hot spot, though the menu isn’t overwhelmingly sophisticated either (think conch fritters and chicken Caesar salad).

Worrying that perhaps we were the poor relations to the tourists on neighboring Harbour Island—a geographically smaller, much more populated and upscale spot—we decided to make an afternoon jaunt. Plus, both shopping-addicted, we were itching to buy those bikinis. A cab ride back to, and beyond, the airport and a five-minute water taxi ride later (40 minutes total) landed us in Dunmore Town. Everyone here zooms around on golf carts ($40 a day), but we opted to explore the island on foot. A mistake, since apparently golf carts are the best part: We found a few boutiques (closed for the afternoon), quasicrowded streets (lined with quaint, million-dollar shacks) and some good-looking but pricey restaurants ($40 entrees are the standard). The beach, which lopes along one side of the island, is huge and insanely beautiful, but it was too windy to enjoy that day. The tourists, primarily clad in polos and Lilly Pulitzer, looked like they thought they should be having a better time than they were. Which was our sentiment. We walked the island, polished off yet another cheeseburger and lined up a water taxi to take us home. 

Eleuthera—which, incidentally, means “freedom” in Greek—is the perfect destination for the annoyingly manic. A bustling town center, a museum, or even a shopable market generally acts on my mind like a siren song, until I can’t sit still. I found peace here. There really is nothing better to do than sit on the beach, chat with the other guests (a mixed bag of childless 20- to 40-year-olds), read and drink.

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THE TAB

Airfare $1,000
Hotel 675
Cabs 60
+ Meals 350

TOTAL COST $2,085 (three nights, two people)

Continental connects to Eleuthera (ELH) through Fort Lauderdale, or you can take a ferry or plane from Nassau. 

TRAVEL TIME 5hrs