Travel: Nevis, the Caribbean - Features - Scotsman.com The full heat of the sun is already starting to burn through the dawn mist and, as I step on to my decking, early birds are pecking around in the grass searching for worms while a family of vervet monkeys swings playfully from the trees. There are still two and a half hours to go till breakfast - and even the playful antics of monkeys begins to pall - so I grab a Snickers from the minibar, pull on my trainers and go for a run. Much like its Scottish namesake, Nevis (pronounced Neevis) is a hilly old spot, volcanic in fact, though the 3,232-foot beast that dominates the island is dormant and almost constantly - as far as I can tell - shrouded in thick cloud. When Christopher Columbus sailed through the Caribbean back in 1493, he mistook those clouds for something altogether colder and named the island Nuestra Señora de Las Nieves - Our Lady of the Snows. But more of her later. For now, I am nursing a recurring calf injury while tackling the steeply-curving roads that curl around Montpelier Plantation where we're staying, leaping clear of guard hounds and wishing I'd warmed up a bit more. I might actually be starting to limp as I approach a cluster of brightly-painted houses and the sound of Sunday worship emanating from the local Church of God. Doors flung open, windows devoid of glass, ladies in their hats and high heels, the preacher is mid-sermon: rejoice in suffering, he entreats the congregation, triumph through adversity. Praise the Lord. Amen brother. I stretch that calf and carry on, a little more spring in my step than when I'd started. His message could almost have been intended for me. Indeed, it could have been a mantra for several occasions during our trip, when we manage to drag ourselves away from Montpelier's twinkling pool (ancient sugar mill on one side, bar on the other, potent glasses of rum punch on tap) and sweat it out on some sort of strenuous activity or other. The highlight, literally, is climbing Nevis Peak. Everywhere we go on the island - visiting the daily market in Charlestown to buy bananas; having a barbecue of fish steaks, chicken and rice salad on the beach; swinging on a hammock pretending to read but, really, just emptying my mind of anything that doesn't involve rum or monkeys - the mountain looks down, taunting us, daring us to come ahead if we think we're hard enough. "You're climbing Nevis Peak?" the locals say, a cautious smile on their faces, sucking in their breath like a mechanic who has just looked under the bonnet of your 1987 Cortina and is calculating how soon he'll be able to retire. Is it hard? we ask. And they laugh that infectious, throaty Caribbean laugh. Maybe yes, maybe no. We never do get a straight answer; just snippets of information. It could be muddy. And it's "a bit of a scramble at the top." It turns out to be very muddy, and a lot of a scramble all the way to the top, as we pull ourselves and each other every inch of those 3,232 feet by rope and tree root; slithering up mud-covered slopes, inching across sheer rock, sometimes tackling almost vertical angles through tropical rainforest. The estimated two hours it would take us to get up and back again turns out to be grossly inaccurate. It's nearly three hours before we reach the peak - a tiny patch of flat ground where we celebrate our momentous achievement by signing the "visitors" book" there. Among the "I made it with my ten-year-old son" and "Happy birthday to me, I climbed on my 50th birthday" notations, one of our party scrawls: "Never again." Sap. We're told that, on a clear day, the views are spectacular. It isn't a clear day, and all we can see is cloud, but the sense of achievement and exertion is quite enough to take our breath away. The way down is just as tough, mostly abseiling through the rain. Five hours after setting off, we finally reach the ground, mud ingrained in fingernails and smeared into skin, down socks, in hair. We are beyond filthy. And it feels good. Nevis may not have the endless white powder beaches of some of its neighbours. It may not have the nightlife; it lacks that commercial edge. But that's not why visitors come. This is the undiscovered Caribbean; the place Diana fled to with her boys following her separation from Prince Charles in 1993, and where Michael Douglas brought his new bride and baby son in 2000. Oprah, Hugh Jackman and, a long, long time before them, Horatio Nelson came here, wedding his sweetheart Fanny Nisbet under the ancient silk cotton tree on the Montpelier Plantation. Owned by the adorable Hoffman family - and inhabited by their gorgeous golden lab Ziggy - Montpelier's is intimate but relaxed, with a modern, minimalist decor, a warm welcome and a stellar guest book that features the likes of Grace Kelly, Sean Connery, Colin Powell and John Cleese. Set inland, in the foothills of Nevis Peak, its seclusion is what appeals. But for anyone who starts getting tetchy after ten minutes on a lounger, there is plenty to stretch the muscles and the imagination. So on another day we take a cycle tour of the island. Guide Winston Crooke stays mainly on the flat following our whining about being stiff and unfit, and his excellent hire bikes take us gently off road, along the old cane routes between sugar plantations, through the villages of Newcastle and Fountain, stopping off at the ruined Cottle Church, which dates back to 1824, the first Anglican church on the island where black and white worshipped together. Crooke is both knowledgeable and enthusiastic, and will tailor a tour depending on each participant's fitness. So if a four-hour, round-the-island, hard-core hills kind of outing is more your can of Red Bull, he can do that too. In fact, Nevis is home to a Tristar series of triathlons, the toughest element of which is a 1km swim between St Kitts and Nevis, followed by a 100km round-the-island cycle and a 10km run. After that, the Peak looks like a walk in the park. Back at Montpelier, we stretch our aching limbs with a yoga class on the lawn, the mountain at our backs, gazing out instead at the expanse of lush plantation land sloping down to the Caribbean. After saluting the setting sun and taming our downward dogs, our instructor asks, innocently, "So, how was Nevis Peak?" We simply draw breath through our teeth, shake our heads enigmatically and smile. Twitter: Ruth_Lesley Ruth Walker travelled to Montpelier Plantation & Beach, Nevis, with Cox & Kings (0845 154 8941 www.coxandkings.co.uk) which organises luxury holidays to the Caribbean. A seven-night stay at Montpelier Plantation & Beach is priced from £1,795 per person including flights with British Airways, return transfers from St Kitts and breakfast daily. All activities such mountain biking, rainforest hikes, yoga lessons and island tours can be arranged through the hotel (www.montpeliernevis.com). Cycle tours, Windsurf "n" Mountainbike Nevis, Oualie Beach (www.bikenevis.com)