A Beatle honey in this exclusive ‘club’ of society in the Bahamas – is now open for the first time in decades

Disabling the ocean bases filled with the palm tree of the reborn club of the Bahamas’ the first luxury hotel to open on the long, weak Eleuthera island in a decade is hard to believe that only a few Years ago, Wat country.

Vines Jungle killed the ruins of her white one, all, but obscuring the remains of the Potlading past as a playground of the 1960s and 1970s for New York Socials, British Royals and a couple of Beatles, too.

However, the new friends of the owners of the hotel-Karabet, Bruce Loshusan and Hans Febs-Saw tremendous potential when they happened in the country in 2016.

“It was really in a bad state,” Loshusan recalled. “Everything was so overloaded. But then, it opened on the most beautiful beach we would ever see. We were like, ‘Uh-Oh. We are in trouble. ‘”

Problems because they knew they could not leave. Problems because they knew this would not be a small enterprise.

But now, after a 7-year-old reconstruction that resurrected the original black and black and black club and a villa that is now a 11-room bathroom with 11-room has come out for the pleasure of a generation of a generation RI Barefoot -Beach Celests.

And that younger generation has a right part of the joy studied with stars, fun in the sun and intrigue, to live up to.

In 1965, a trio of New York Socialities joined to buy 80 hectares of a former pineapple plants here. The idea was to create an annoying but relaxing attraction for themselves and their friends, away from the crazy crowds and the broken eyes of Manhattan.

They called their Hideaway The Potlading Club, adopting the name from a ceremonial celebration of local northwestern communities in the US coastal, during which the host would distribute great gifts – or sometimes even show the destruction of their spending possessions – as a demonstration of wealth, with eventual reception and matching.

Choosing the name will turn out to be something of a vanguard of the club’s fall.

Among the founders of Potlaract were two New York debutors at the end of the 1930s: Diana Adams, a heir to the fabric who had married the management partner in a legal firm with white shoes, and her friend Marie Diggs, a divorce girl lesbian of the American Revolution. They had Junior League lecturers to recommend them and, at least in the case of Adams, money to spend. Together with the girlfriend of the Dizgs, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, they placed the camp under the palms, facing the dust sand and the turquoise and the Atlantic Saphire waters – all of a sea dumping by the Caribbean of Eleutia.

“Everyone was invited and no one paid. It may be the week that people in the country, or in the world, and no one had to pay. Everyone came as friends. “

Terry Diggs, Marie Diggs bride co -founder

The founders’ guests would come to include such brilliant names as Greta Garbo, the then Prince Charles III and his god India Hicks, Ringo Starr and Linda and Paul McCartney, who Honeymoone through the Bathroom window.

There was only a small problem: many owners’ friends just never paid their bills. Perhaps they saw coastal accommodations as a type of potlatch placed in society, obtained as evidence of the wealth and greatness of their armies. All that was missing was eventual reciprocation.

“Everyone was invited and no one paid,” said Terry Digs, Marie’s bride. “It may be the week that people in the country, or in the world, and no one had to pay. Everyone came as friends.”

And so, after just over a decade, the founders sold the place. The property changed its hands several times afterwards fell into mismatches, returned from the jungle.

To revive the club, Loshusan and Febs brought the inner star of the high flight Amanda Lindroth, which is located between Palm Beach and Nassau.

They employed a staff of more than 40, attracting five -star hotel veterans in the Caribbean and Asia, to anticipate GUESTS ‘every need in SPA Petite, two bars and restaurant all day. And while that generous spirit that inspired the club’s founders is back, there is a star change: now, everyone pays their bills in the cash register.

“It was all very spooky for so long, this place is slightly stretched out,” says Hicks, who stopped from the hotel recently, about 50 years after her visit with her godfather, now King Charles III. “But today, Potlading feels quite powerful.”