As I stumbled sleepily to the screened-in porch of our villa in the orange glow of early morning, I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was.

The Bahamas? Bermuda? A tiny non-descript Caribbean island sheltered from over-development?

I let my eyes wander over the view: the turquoise tide rolling in, waves meeting the white sand, palm trees dotting the immaculately landscaped grounds of the resort, flower blooms in vibrant bursts of pink, orange, violet and yellow.

I let out a sigh of contentment. After such a hectic workweek, I was finally so relaxed that I couldn't even remember where in the world I was. And mind you, this is a very good thing.

It's exactly what Palm Island Resort, on Florida's Gulf coast, aims to do. >>>>