Stepping off the American Airlines flight at Providenciales, I was reminded that not so long ago, the tourist tag line for these islands was, “Where in the world are the Turks and Caicos?”

What was once an appropriate query has become an inside joke with Thom and me. These days the world seems to be discovering these scatterling islands in the British West Indies in no small part because of Parrot Cay Resort, one of the most exclusive and luxurious properties in the South Atlantic.

Paul McCartney, Demi Moore, Bruce Willis, David Copperfield, Julia Roberts. The A-list of celebrities who have been seeking sun and solace at the 1,000-acre island only a half-hour boat ride from Providenciales is growing steadily. They come to the 44-suite, 12-beach house resort because, as Thom likes to joke, they “treat the famous like they’re not, and the not-so-famous like they are.”

Not-so-famous as we are, I’m still always delighted to revisit, and almost as soon as the boat docks at the pier, Parrot Cay is already working its magic. I can feel the phone calls and e-mails and hassles of daily life melting into the hues of the deep blue sea, the lingering scent of night-blooming jasmine and the hush of the casuarinas in the trade winds.

If you think of it as one large studio set, then the main verandah lobby, restaurant and pool area with their stucco walls, open rooms and red-tile roofs, are the Mediterranean sound stage. Stone walkways connect the buildings to the outlying suites and beach houses, all nicely hidden away among the frangipani hedges. A short stroll along the elevated boardwalk will bring you to the sweep of a spectacular three-mile beach.

The villas reflect that light beauty of the world-renowned sugar-sand beach in terracotta floors and linen bedspreads while the dark wood trim and four-posted beds draped in a wisp of mosquito lend that classic Donna Karan touch. There are the nods at entertainment too with the TV and DVD player, but with glass doors opening to a wide terrace overlooking the sea, and a fridge stocked with chilled Chardonnay, why bother?

A drink is always in order to celebrate an arrival at Parrot Cay. While you can enjoy cocktails at either the verandahs upstairs or the poolside restaurant, the choice has always been an easy one for us. We tuck into the plush white couches in the sunken stone bar beside the graduated infinity pool. Like the sea beyond, the pool fades from a bright turquoise to deep indigo.

While Thom chats with a well-tanned gentleman-a talent agent from Los Angeles-I peruse the menu. The cuisine in both restaurants is orchestrated by a well-known Australian chef with a flair for bringing out the flavors of the Caribbean with hints of the Orient. As we found out later that evening, his art shines in the appetizers. Our favorites were the tender tuna sashimi and king crab and mango salad with coconut rice and crispy pork.

While there are things to do at Parrot Cay-sea kayaking, snorkeling, golfing on nearby Provo-my favorite activity has to be the pure escapism. Nowhere does it reach more perfection than at the Shambhala Spa. I secretly suspect that for all the draw of the beaches and attentive-but not hovering-service, this luxurious spa with its holistic treatments, unisex steam room and saunas is the real reason Hollywood glitterati love it here.

On our last day at Parrot Cay, while waiting for an Indian head massage, Thom emerges from a deep tissue treatment. He looks as relaxed as he’s ever been. It’s the kind of relaxation that makes you forget everything. Home, work, family.

“Where on Earth are the Turks and Caicos?” I ask to see just how far lost he really is. He gives me a smile and says, “Exactly where we want to be.”