And all you want to do is treat these humble, struggling islands as Paula would: coddle them, tell each one how beautiful their inner soul is, all the while drinking a triple-shot cocktail out of a Coke cup. But then, after paying god knows what for a room and changing planes X amount of times to get there, you’re suddenly ripping them a new one a la Simon: "Forgettable. Boring. Zero originality. I’ve seen better beaches in Jersey." That sort of thing.

So when I say that Nevis — the smaller of the two islands that comprise the federation of St. Kitts and Nevis – is indeed worth the trek, I’m well aware of the cynicism I’m up against.

Especially since Vegas odds are about a trillion to one you’ve even heard of it.

So let’s get to it. Li’l Nevis, 200 miles southeast of Puerto Rico, is only 36-square miles, shared by 11,000 or so residents who all seem to know one another. It’s the kind of itty-bitty place that would completely fall apart, infrastructure-wise, if a cruise ship carrying 800 tourists ever pulled up (which happened) — don’t get us wrong: that’s a very healthy sign.

Discovered by Columbus and settled by the Brits (it’s independent, but still part of commonwealth), Nevis has wrong-side driving, afternoon tea time, and a population stricken with a nasty cricket habit. It’s also got Nevis Peak, a rather dominating volcano that every hotel and restaurant "has a view of", per their brochure (unless you’re underground, it’s impossible not to). But so does Montserrat, right? Well, Nevis’ is the one that’s not erupting every other day (Nevis Peak has been dormant since the Holocene, a rather important distinction to keep in mind).

To top it all off, Nevis has the greatest roadside attraction ever: monkey crossing signage (don’t you dare try stealing them — Nevis’ 30 some odd cops will hunt you down). Yes, the island is overrun with African Green Veret monkeys that came over on slave ships over 400 years ago. Ever since, they’ve been running along roofs and eating everything in sight (only the insane try to maintain gardens). Residents love them/used to eat them, but they make tourists like myself all warm and fuzzy inside.

But, for better or worse, Nevis is most well-known (to the five or six "Jeopardy" champions who do know of it) for its 196-room Four Seasons, the largest resort on the island. It was the company’s first property in the Caribbean, and remains its only (the one in The Bahamas doesn’t count, technically). Certainly, this fact is a great source of pride for Nevisians, and the resort is expanding everyday, adding more villas than you can shake a wicket at.

Unfortunately, its $655 starting room rate and sightings of ex-presidents on its golf course send the wrong message. Nevis is no doubt well-stocked in upscale options, even beyond the gates of the Four Seasons (the elegant Montpelier Plantation Inn, e.g., is a Relais & Chateaux member).

But unlike St. Barts and Anguilla, there’s an even larger affordable underbelly — especially in low-season (which just so happens to begin April 15). So I ask you: In this world where exotic, near-isolation is usually synonymous with exorbitant price gouging, isn’t affordability the most important "it factor" of all?

LAY OF THE LAND

It’s oft said Nevis looks like a sombrero (volcanic tip and all), but really it’s more like a yarmulke — Nevis Peak is only 3,232 feet tall, sloping gradually to the sea. A more fitting headwear metaphor, really, since Nevis has the oldest Jewish synagogue in the Caribbean, and a restored Jewish Cemetery.

Round and scenic, Nevis is ideal for renting a car. Just remember to drive Beyonce-style ("To the left, to the left") — a few near-miss head-ons will eventually train your brain. There’s a Thrifty (thrifty.com; from $270/week) in the capital city, Charlestown, near the ferry. You’ll also need to buy a temporary permit ($25). Like Roosevelt Island, there’s one main road that runs in a circle around the island though all five parishes, mostly sticking to the shoreline, except in the south. It’ll lead you to everything important: the ferry terminal, supermarkets, the airport, the Medical School of the Americas (more like a J.C. for American med school wanna-be’s), most resorts and inns, restaurants and beaches. You can do a 360-degree trip in about an hour. Hidden Easter eggs along these roads include small, closet-sized bars and restos not in the tourist guides — definitely worth exploring.

Caution: If you’re on the road between 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. (and why are you?), mind the blinding sunrise that literally blasts your windshield with orange radiation.

STAY

If you take nothing else away from this article, take this: There is life after the Four Seasons Nevis — loads of it.

Guesthouses are the way to go, here. You can get a fully furnished apartment from $50/night. We’re talking cable-TV, fridge, dining room tables, couches. The whole enchilada. Most aren’t on the beach, but you’re never more than a few minutes drive.

The very fluorescent two-level, 10-room complex Five Star Guest House is five minutes from the capital (but its paint job is easily seen from space) in Gingerland. It boasts views of the volcano (literally, its backyard), but everything on Nevis has a view of the volcano. What’s to know is that its guests enjoy the above accouterment, plus access to cell phones and a laundry mat on the first floor; an onsite restaurant to come (from $85; [869] 469-1287).

A rather drab cement building on the outside, but clean, furnished and quaint on the inside, Hilltop Vacation Apartments are another option. Located right off the main road, right after the "Cost Me Less" store in Gingerland, there are 13 units in all — 2 studios, 5 singles and 6 doubles; $45, $65, $100/night, respectively ([869] 469-3102).

For more rental options, stroll over to Howell’s Realty, which sits across from the Police Station in Charlestown ([869] 469-3102).

Full-service Plantation Inns are the most popular alternative to FSN, and they are as they sound: converted sugar plantations whose stone ovens and machinery have been preserved, and erstwhile slave/master quarters make for comfortable, usually TV-less, rooms. Nice thing is those rooms go for less than $250/night in low season (starting mid-April).

Philly-born Richard Lupinacci, credited with kick-starting the horse breeding/racing/polo fanaticism on Nevis, owns and operates the hillside Hermitage with his wife and son. True nature lovers will appreciate the beautiful all-wood, open-air rooms — they’re designed to be enjoyed while swaying in the hammock out on the deck (giant moths, be damned), holding a rum punch on your belly, watching the monkeys hop from rooftop to rooftop as the crickets lull you to sleep with their chirps, and all that jazz. Just mind the feral mule poop around the pathways. Next year, in loose association with the Hermitage, Lupinacci’s son Richie is launching a sea touring operation onboard his "Gremlin", a reformed drug boat that was seized in a police raid not too long ago. While the property’s main house is said to be the oldest building on Nevis (think late 1600s), the menu at the onsite restaurant is smart and modern – try the grilled Wahoo (from $170; hermitagenevis.com).

Nearby in Gingerland, another environmentally-integrated inn is the 10-acre Old House Manor, where each room is aptly named for a flower or plant. Cogs and other old timey plantation machinery have been preserved onsite, and a new outdoor balcony has been added to the restaurant. The tiled floors are a nice touch, as is the pool, directly beneath the volcano (from $220; oldmanornevis.com).

One of co-owners of Golden Rock is a rather kooky, type-A muckety muck from New York (did she mention her daughter shows at a downtown art gallery, yet?). But her creative flair is undeniable. She managed to paint the plantation’s doors and window shutters a vibrant red, without violating the old, 18th-century stone aesthetic. There are seven pastel cottages spread out over the 100-acre property, each with bamboo beds and mahogany furniture and decorated with works by local artists. But the highlight is the Sugar Mill Tower-turned-honeymoon suite—where does its door that’s 10-feet off the ground lead to (from $160; www.golden-rock.com)?

If a conventional hotel is more your speed, Mount Nevis Hotel fits like a glove. Just south of the airport, its manicured grounds serve as venue for fashion shows and the like (the proximity to the shoreline makes for more than descent backdrop). It has 30 of the most modern rooms on the island arranged in two-level pavilions, with microwaves and TVs, a 2,400 sq.-ft. conference center and gym (from $250/; mountnevishotel.com).

WHERE TO EAT AND DRINK

The Greeks called their goddess of food Demeter. On Nevis, her name is Curletta.

Not only does the native Montserratian bartend and run a little restaurant out of her home on Nevis ("Curletta’s"—located off a little dirt road, where her rotis rule the world), but she’s also one of the culinary geniuses behind the best sandwich shop on Nevis, Deli by Wendy (not to be confused with that pig-tailed girl’s chain). Besides selling cheese by the wheel and meat by the pound, there’s a whole chalkboard full of sandwich options, priced between $9 and $13: Genoa salami, turkey, mortadella, curry, jerk mahi. If it can fit betwixt two slices of bread, it’s served here. The best? The BLTs, hands down. Sit outside and watch the condo development across the street continue to grow (delibywendy.com).

For dinner, head over to Rumours. A typical American grill ($10 cheese burgers and fries, $5.80 buffalo wings), it’s decked out in Christmas lights year-round, and there’s a movie projector that spits out classics like "Meet the Parents" on the wall to the delight of the student-heavy crowd ([869] 469-9436).

Mingles, over near the Oualie Resort in St. Thomas parish, has a more "international" menu, including a surprisingly tasty (and large) plate of chicken parm, just $15 ([869] 469-2623).

Don’t even think about nightlife on Nevis — think more along the lines of dusklife, at best. This island is quiet, and that’s the way the residents and return visitors like it. The only night that really revs up at all is Friday when everyone gets paid and cashes their checks at local bars (who needs banks?). Your best party bet is V’s Courtyard, an outdoor DJ-hosted space close to the docks—maybe a little too close, depending on your Carib intake ([869] 469 1854). Or, there’s Sunshines Beach Bar, right next door to the Four Seasons. Location, location, location, indeed – it keeps serving up $5 Killer Bee rum punches to the resort’s spendthrifts long after the rest of the island is snoozing (sunshinenevis.com).

WHAT TO DO

It’s sacrilegious to skip a hike up Nevis Peak, even if you only go halfway. Lynell Liburd and his bitchin' Hitler stache are local celebrities of sorts (he was featured on MTV2), and he’ll lead you and your group up the mountain, herniated discs aside. Along the way, he’ll tell you which exotic plants cures which diseases, where haunted treasure still lies, and show you the best place to catch a glimpse of Guadeloupe and other neighbors ($40/pp; nevisnaturetours.com).

The Oualie Beach Resort is ground zero for all-things water-related on Nevis, whether you’re a guest or not. While Under The Sea’s marine biology courses might be a little too heady (and pricey - $300 tuition!) for a vacation, three-hour snorkeling trips are only $55 for adults, $45 for kids. Know that your dollars go to good use – the company helps rehabilitate injured sea turtles and other vulnerable fellas (undertheseanevis.com).

Just remember, this is the Caribbean — find a beach, for crying out loud. Pinney’s Beach (a k a where the Four Seasons sits, but open to all) is the most paradigmatic (clear, shallow water, just the right number of coconut trees), lying on the western side of the island. But the best views of Nevis’ sister island St. Kitts are had on Lovers Beach, further north near the airport.

GET HERE

Clumsy propeller planes are always a little more exciting, if by exciting you mean there’s a 50/50 chance of wetting your pants through the landing. But that’s your only option to get to Nevis by air: A trip aboard an American Eagle ($348/RT from San Juan; aa.com) is at least a brand you recognize. But Winair — the official airline of flaking on departure times — is always a cheaper option out of St. Maarten ($130/RT; www.fly-winair.com). If you choose instead to fly direct to St. Kitts and ferry over, well, God bless you. That’s about an $8 trip plus a $1 customs fee (mmtscaribe@hotmail.com; [869] 466-6734) .

Spring Fling [NYP]