I had plans to write a very different article, but on Monday the 23rd of Feb, I found that the lovely island of Sal in Cape Verde is still mired in controversy. There’s a through line somewhere in what happens when independence is gained from colonial powers, given that Cape Verde’s sovereignty from the Portuguese is fairly recent. Their beautiful version of the Creole language and strong adoption of English is apparent immediately. A nation of very small GDP, vast desert, and a copious supply of resorts is both impressive and…erm…interesting. Initially, this was meant to be titled The Rough with the Smooth: 2 Weeks in Cape Verde.

And I may keep that title, but at its core this is more a review of Riu Palace on Sal, the idea of resorts, and an acknowledgement that the overly cautious make more sense than us luxury-adventure types would like to believe. Another example: had everything gone according to work plans this week, I’d have been about nine minutes away from the now-famous Fairmont in Palm Jumeirah and likely stuck there due to the airport strike. But luckily, such was not the case. Again, the overly cautious make more sense these days. Back to Cape Verde.
Let’s start with the rough, because I would still say our experience was very good. It wasn’t until our 11th day that our eldest daughter was sick for about five hours with a fairly gnarly stomach bug. Every form of gross was on display… I’ll spare you the details. My daughter is rock solid and, like her parents, has a fairly iron stomach. But the facts are that the island itself is fly-laden. It is simply a fact. They cannot control, no matter how fancy the resort, the open-air fly situation. Food is opened and the miniature winged beasts descend and light upon everything. Stagnant food ought to be avoided.

There have been a few recent related deaths in Cape Verde, and that has spooked travellers. Maybe they should be spooked. There is a slight chance that you are paying for your own death. But keep in mind that every day people buy or PCP-finance vehicles, and a higher percentage will crash and die. Hence, paying for their own death. Nonetheless, the complex feelings of writing about why I prefer resort living and then, a few days later, my firstborn falling ill at said resort must be reckoned with. Naturally, we have to say resorts aligned with top brands like Tui have to do better, or at least signpost higher risks. Because a day later, my wife suffered mild stomach issues, and the day before departure my two-year-old fell sick. We surmise that because she refused to eat with a dodgy stomach, she encountered a hypo-like state and was rushed to the clinic. This all happened at the best resort on the island. So don’t go, right?

Well, not so fast. There’s more rough to cover, but let’s cut to brass tacks. My youngest was seen by a physician and multiple staff within three hours of being sick, at a local clinic.
By real professionals who looked after us. The waiting room looked grim and I was bargaining with God, as I had no clue why my spirited daughter suddenly had no spirit, and a face that said, sort me out or I won’t be here. Based on that bargaining, I now have to attend church at least three times this year, because I’ve deemed that reasonable for “doing better”. See what growing up religious gets you?
I’ll spare you the details. They’re private and personal, so maybe one for friends and paid subscribers, but the staff were phenomenal. So when people diss socialised medicine, citing wait times and wanting to strip funding out of the NHS further, or triple down on might-makes-right outcomes in healthcare… the best experience I’ve ever had was in “Cliniture”. Better than any NHS hospital or local place, bar the little one in town where my youngest was born, with three midwives and a private pool for the birth. All in all, it overperformed. I am confident the outcomes would have been worse in both first-world countries where I am a citizen and resident. And it was inexpensive. Not cheap.
So, it’s nuanced. Rough plus smooth. My kid shouldn’t have been sick, and these people shouldn’t have been, and some weren’t so fortunate. But no one says, don’t go to London because you’re more likely to be mugged or stabbed there, right? The opposite. So why are we doing this to poorer, blacker island nations? I’ll let you decide. I’ve seen some rough things in London, in the posh bits, and heard stories from a close policeman friend. Again, best for a live call or article. London is also rough and smooth… yet it’s a top destination.
So, what’s good then?

Well, I’ll tell you. The desert-dry heat. Salty sea air along sandy beaches. The perfectly manicured palms and citrusy floral scents from cut grass and hedging. It’s more like the elements that fuel Jo Malone’s Cypress and Grapevine. That fly-laden food can be avoided by getting yours fresh off the grill. The house sparkling wine, Nubia, tastes incredibly expensive. It’s tangy, sweet, and while it could go deeper, it’s a people-pleaser.
The staff are the friendliest people in the world and treated my family like family. I had real heart-to-hearts with staff, and as an American living in Europe, I’ve learned to be less outgoing and more reserved. They got me to dance. Sober, mind…which is impressive.
My kids are still talking about Cape Verde and have forgotten being sick altogether. I remember going to a nature camp as a kid in mid-Michigan on a school trip. There was an issue on day two. I awoke to the smell of the same bodily sickness I spared you earlier. We had to evacuate before noon. They put us healthy kids on the bus alongside the sick ones, and when I got home, I was fine. But school was closed for three days or so to make sure we weren’t spreading sickness. It was a real ordeal. Anyway, I was fine until the following Saturday, when I spent the day being sick in my mum’s then-boyfriend’s luxurious en suite. He was a pretty decent guy. I wonder whatever happened to him?
Anyway. These things happen.

I can’t recommend going, given the articles from The Times (which I subscribe to). My politics differ from theirs, but that’s why I read them. They did real work on this story, and there’s something to be said for focusing on sickness. The day after my eldest was sick, there was magically a reduction in the number of flies indoors swarming cheese boards and fruit. We’d heard some other people were sick too, so the five-star teams clearly upped their game in some way, because the weather was exactly the same as the day before. Perfect BBQ, exceptional childcare, better health outcomes in my experience, and a family holiday I will cherish forever all say that I can’t dissuade anyone from going there either.

It pains me to say it, because it’s the utterance of many uneducated fools on the topic of science, but I’d recommend… gulp… doing your own research.
If it’s any consolation, we’ll likely go back at some point.
The case I made for resorts a few days before all of this. I stand by most of it: The Case for the 5‑Star Resort Holiday.
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