The Island That Time (Almost) Forgot: Sveti Stefan’s Reopening and the Battle for Paradise
There’s something undeniably captivating about an island locked away for years, its beauty preserved—or contested—behind closed doors. Sveti Stefan, a gem off Montenegro’s Adriatic coast, is finally set to reopen to tourists after a five-year hiatus. But this isn’t just a story about travel; it’s a tale of power, privilege, and the delicate balance between luxury tourism and local rights.
A Paradise Frozen in Time
Sveti Stefan is no ordinary island. Connected to the mainland by a slender sandbar, this 15th-century fortified village exudes old-world charm. For decades, it was a playground for the elite, hosting everyone from Princess Margaret to Sophia Loren. But in 2021, it vanished from the tourist map amid a bitter dispute over beach access.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how the conflict reflects a broader global tension: the commodification of natural beauty versus the rights of local communities. The island’s closure wasn’t just about legal wrangling; it was a symbolic standoff between exclusivity and inclusivity.
The Deal That Broke the Deadlock
The settlement between Montenegro’s government and Aman, the luxury hotel operator, is a masterclass in compromise. Locals will now have free access to two of the island’s three beaches, while Queen’s Beach remains exclusive to hotel guests.
From my perspective, this is a pragmatic solution, but it also raises deeper questions. Why should access to public beaches ever be a point of contention? And what does it say about the priorities of a country when a luxury resort’s interests are weighed against those of its own citizens?
One thing that immediately stands out is the financial arrangement. The state will receive a 10% share of profits, a move Prime Minister Milojko Spajić hailed as a win for Montenegrin tourism. But is 10% enough? And what about the environmental cost of reopening such a fragile ecosystem?
Luxury at a Price
Aman’s Villa Miločer, the former summer residence of Queen Marija Karađorđević, is reopening year-round with rooms starting at £1,323 per night. This isn’t just luxury; it’s exclusivity bordering on extravagance.
What many people don’t realize is that this kind of hyper-luxury tourism often comes at the expense of local culture and sustainability. While Sveti Stefan’s reopening will undoubtedly boost Montenegro’s economy, it also risks turning the island into a gilded cage, accessible only to the wealthiest few.
The Broader Implications
Sveti Stefan’s story is a microcosm of global tourism trends. As destinations like Bali, Santorini, and the Maldives grapple with overtourism, Montenegro is walking a tightrope. How do you preserve a place’s allure while ensuring it remains accessible to all?
If you take a step back and think about it, the island’s closure and reopening are a cautionary tale. Tourism can be a double-edged sword, bringing economic benefits but also threatening the very essence of what makes a place special.
What This Really Suggests
Sveti Stefan’s reopening isn’t just about beaches or hotels; it’s about the values we prioritize as a society. Do we want tourism to be a force for inclusivity, or will it remain a privilege reserved for the few?
Personally, I think this is a moment for Montenegro to lead by example. By ensuring that locals benefit as much as tourists, the country could set a new standard for sustainable, equitable tourism.
Final Thoughts
As Sveti Stefan prepares to welcome visitors once again, I can’t help but wonder: will it retain its soul, or will it become just another luxury destination? The island’s story is far from over, and how it unfolds will say a lot about our collective approach to travel, culture, and community.
What this really suggests is that paradise isn’t just a place—it’s a choice. And in the case of Sveti Stefan, the choices made today will shape its legacy for generations to come.
