Find out where to stay and where to shop with our St. Bart's: Insider Advice.

Its official name is St. Barthélemy, but everyone calls it St. Barths (pronounced the French way) or St. Bart's, plain and simple. Whatever the name, this singular small island, fifteen miles southeast of St. Martin, boasts aquamarine waters, luscious white sand beaches and a refined yet totally relaxed way of life rooted in its French heritage. For years the island has drawn more than its share of the bright and beautiful: actors, writers, artists, moguls, rock stars and others who want to get away from it all without leaving behind the comforts of fine bed linens, rejuvenating spas, fantastic food and fabulous shopping.

The first time I went to St. Bart's, twenty-one years ago, I was afraid I was riding behind the wave, getting there just in time to have people tell me "Yeah, it's great, but it's not what it was." Luckily, I was mistaken. And today it has more luxury offerings than ever. In only the past few years, most of the top resorts have redone rooms, built villas and created spas. Throughout the island, the already rich pool of rental villas is awash in new amenities: WiFi Internet access, plasma-screen televisions (with a satellite dish for each room), state-of-the-art gyms and professional-caliber kitchens (with accompanying chefs). The restaurants, which have always been a winning mix of toes-in-the-sand casual and haute French, now include eateries, especially at the resort hotels, that would be star-worthy anywhere in the world. And as a testament to the island's enduring appeal, more outsiders than ever are putting down roots here.

This latter phenomenon has several causes, says Christian Wattiau, a managing partner in Sibarth Real Estate. "First there is the emotional trigger. They come to the island, they fall in love, and they want a piece of it," he explains. "There's also the desire for privacy and to create a place that is exactly the way you want it. And property here is a very good investment."

It may soon get even better. St. Bart's is in the midst of dissolving its ties to the other French West Indies islands and modifying its relationship with its former mother country, France — and thus its taxation policies. With this change, more of the tax revenues collected on St. Bart's will go into the island's coffers, so there will be improvements in the infrastructure: roads (which need it), utilities (the electricity can be temperamental) and water.

These practicalities, however, pale beside the captivating natural beauty of St. Bart's. It's a magnificent place, with gorgeous beaches and rugged volcanic hills and peaks that make for spectacular views (and hair-raising driving). The people are warm (it's the French at their best: charming, hospitable and funny, as if, being away from Europe, they don't have to worry so much about being French). And, not a small consideration in security-conscious times, the island is almost free of crime, which makes it seem like one big resort.

But, of course, it's a stylish resort. The look is comfortable but smart. Everywhere, travelers and residents are enjoying themselves, the high and mighty happily mingling with the merely mortal. At one of the most popular beaches, Saline, children frolic at the water's edge while adults try to master bodysurfing. In Gustavia, the main town (once scruffy, now scrubbed), chic patrons enjoy ocean-side lunches and then stroll along narrow roads lined with upscale shops. At dusk, people pause over glasses of planter's punch to watch the sun slowly melt below the horizon. By nightfall, the restaurants are packed and buzzing as diners compare their meals, their days and their lives. Afterward, locals and travelers alike stop at one of the terrific bars in Gustavia, such as Le Select or Bar de l'Oubli, and mingle, along with the crews from the pleasure boats that tie up in the harbor.

Although St. Bart's can seem busy — especially during high season, when 100 people decide that they must eat at the same fifty-seat restaurant at the exact same time — the island is never overrun the way, say, Nantucket can be in the summer, when visitors outnumber residents five to one. There just aren't enough villas and hotels for that. Plus, it's not the easiest place to get to. The airport runway sits on one of the few flat expanses of land on St. Bart's, wedged between a hill and the turquoise waters of Baie de St. Jean. Fortunately, as you fly in, you can't see how heart-stoppingly close to the hill — and the bay — the plane gets. They can't make the airport bigger, because it already takes up all the available space, and only so many flights go to and from the island.

"In some ways St. Bart's has changed very little over the years," says David Matthews, who owns the Eden Rock hotel with his wife, Jane. "It aspires to be world-class, so you see all the improvements being made and people working like crazy. When we first came here, the island had just a few cars and a lot of donkeys moving everything around. Now there are no donkeys and plenty of cars. But the vivid colors of the water and landscape are still the same, and that's what the real draw has always been."