The Smell of Aloe, Rum, and Salt

Posted on July 8, 2018 by TheJessicaness

I’m up at 5 am to pee, and Dean wakes me an hour and a half later, giving me eight minutes to drink coffee and eat lemon pie, minus the meringue I wash down the sink before we leave. The guys set up at the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club, and I will walk around the crews eating breakfast on my way to the Cathedral of the Most Holy Trinity in my second attempt to climb the tower. It is closed due to the 8 and 10 o’clock services.

Back at the club, I’ll have a sugary yogurt and another coffee, this one with milk, as a continuation of breakfast, as the guys should be done soon. I walk to Queen Elizabeth Par-La-Ville Sculpture Park, where, after admiring the plants, arts, and two-toned lizards, I will sit in the cool breeze and listen to the birds in the trees. When the guys finish, we walk to Bouchêe, a French bistro, for a sit down meal. I’m sure I ordered one of their Benedicts to tackle, but will still be leaving with some to-go.

We stop at the Gibb’s Hill Lighthouse while it’s open in the daytime, a more successful second visit. There’s a weathervane that was installed on top of the lighthouse in 1846, now closer to the ground when it was replaced in 1988 by a radar scanner to prevent ships from running aground on the nearby reefs. Already on the highest hill at 245 feet above sea level, the base provides a broader view of the harbor. In the 1600s, the warning system consisted of fire baskets that would be used for about two centuries before colorful signal flags, telescopes, and telegraphs took their place.

Lighthouses on the island had been proposed in 1795 but were delayed until a crew of 495 were grounded on the reefs in 1838. Passengers and their cargo were brought safely to shore, and though only one Bermudian ship had wrecked in the last decade, Britain saw a lighthouse as a good investment for international trade. Tolls would be charged to incoming ships to help pay for the upkeep of the lantern that was twenty feet high and weighed 5,500 pounds. The lighthouse was erected in London, brought to the island in pieces, and erected by the Royal Engineers and convict labor.

Construction was finished in October 1845, but the first light didn’t come until May 1, 1846. It took 18 pints of whale oil each night to keep the lantern burning. The beam could be seen from 26 miles away. In 1901, the oil ignited, and the heat shattered all the plate glass. The lighthouse was in operation again the next night, even though it didn’t shine as far or flash as regularly, so no major repairs were done until another wreck in 1903 that led to a new light arriving in 1904. Each day, the lighthouse keepers would wipe each prism lens clean of smoke until the lighthouse was fully automated in 1964.

After taking many pictures of the climb, the blue-white-green view, and the descent, we drive to Blue Water Divers with their morning boat out and their afternoon boat full. Dean will take us back to the house, and Dustin will take me on the scooter to Snorkel Park. I don’t enjoy this type of underwater viewing, partially from prior struggling experiences, but also now being dive-certified and able to go deeper. What I didn’t know was that this would be my first free-diving experience. I get into a breathing rhythm as I go rock to rock, seeing one octopus.

The good thing about holding my breath is that it doesn’t matter if there is water in my snorkel, and with sand beneath my feet instead of precious coral, I’m free to inhale deeply at the surface without worrying about buoyancy. We’ll do this for about an hour and a half and then celebrate by sharing a Shark Oil, a strong alcoholic green drink, and watching the rain approach. We’ll take a nap at the house until Dean wakes me up for a fish sandwich.

We go to West Whale Bay Park and explore the rock formations, shapes in the sand, and wild poinsettias before a short visit to Church Bay Park. The pink sand and blue water have me in the mood for a blueberry and peach soft serve from Yo Cherry Frozen Treats. We stop by a boat to talk with guys who play cornhole (who spent $8,000 on an 11-year-old’s birthday party). Dustin is an alumnus of LSU, which is where some of these guys went to school, too. One of the guys gives me a bottle of water, and we’re on our way to hang out with those who are more in our price range.

Dustin buys me a beer when we get to the base. We’ll stay over three hours before Dustin gets tired, and it’s time to go. I call Caleb when we get back to the house, and the neighbor comes outside because she can hear me over the sprinkling rain. I’m sure there would need to be a storm to help cover my voice that carries (not as much as my laugh). I’ll eat some fried chicken while enjoying the warm rain and brush my teeth before lying on the couch at 230 am.

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Hungover in the Triangle

Posted on July 7, 2018 by TheJessicaness

I let Caleb know I made it back to the couch in my friend’s house where I was staying in Bermuda, and he called to confirm that at 3:45 am (four hours ahead of San Diego). I wake up at 8:15 am to an argument over an email between Dean and Dustin. I’ll rinse off and put on more aloe before debating wearing swimsuit bottoms under my shorts. I feel too hungover, but also just super tired at the moment, and maybe I just need to poo and eat something before I get in the water.

An hour later, we’re at their harbor, me toting my sunburn and the guys with their dive bags. We are going to Hamilton so they can work while I sleep on the boat or find shade in town. Dustin woke me after the excursion through Great Sound to let me know that I could either take pictures of race boats or just sleep on the boat, which I had just done for probably half an hour, so a day of exploring was next. I sit up until the guys are suited and in the water before stumbling my way off the pier.

We are moored at the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club, so I feel free to explore inside. There is a trophy from the third Duchess of Edinburgh, who became the Queen of the United Kingdom for 70 years, to the club for their racing in 1948. There’s a cabinet full of silver trophies and inscribed plates, along with boat pictures and parts on the walls. The club was established in 1844 and added “Royal” to their name two years later. It’s the third oldest ‘Royal’ club outside the British Isles.

I wrote (in my notes) that I found a street and crossed it, but I zigzag my way to a shop selling cookies, balsamic, and uncooked noodles before sitting down to breakfast at 11 am in a courtyard. The Italian restaurant Angelo’s Bistro is possibly reopening as of 2021, but while it was open for my visit in 2018, they served a great variety of eggs Benedict for $18 and plenty of complimentary water.

Feeling full and refreshed, I walk towards the Cathedral of the Most Holy Trinity. On the way is a plaque commemorating the 50 Years Strong of the Bermuda Regiment, who combined their segregated units in 1965. They went from a history of supporting World Wars to hurricane response and ceremonial services and expanded their training after 2001 to work with the armed forces of the UK, US, Canada, and CARICOM (Caribbean Community and Common Market) countries.

The original church was completed in 1869, and the Gothic-style Anglican Cathedral was finished in 1905 from Bermuda limestone and French Caen stone. There are usually tower tours available for $3 that will take visitors up 155 stairs to the top, but that’s not an option today as the tower is closed. An 1868 Walker organ is on a permanent loan as a monument to its Anglican heritage and comprises four stops, three ranks, and 150 pipes.

My next stop is Hamilton City Hall to have a look at their free art gallery that centers on island life: statues in swimsuits, military portraits, and a scaled-down Bermuda painting. There’s a house near the Bermuda National Library where the first Bermuda postage stamp was issued in 1848 by William Perot that is closed. I walk into the library to see the few bookshelves, wall of movies, and magazine rack before returning to the boat while the guys are on a break.

I see boats from Canada, Germany, Bermuda, and Monaco amongst the 17 teams with 150 sailors from 14 countries. They will race from here to Hamburg, some 3500 nautical miles, as the final race for the Atlantic Anniversary Regatta. I’ll hang out for a while and then be on my way to Fort Hamilton, open daily from 930 am to 5 pm. There’s a warning sign at the entrance about the lack of fencing around walls or edges, so children should be supervised, and visitors do so at their own risk.

In the moat is greenery, shade, and wind, so I’m in no hurry to leave this garden that was started in the 1960s. I appreciate the sounds of the birds around me and notice a hen with her chicks nestled in some brown leaves. I explore the wet-bricked tunnels with roots reaching over the rocks for any moisture they can find. Back in the sun, there are bright flowers, manicured lawns, and the oldest self-governing overseas territory’s flag waving proudly over the fort.

The fort was built by the British in the 1860s and used as the headquarters for the Bermuda Volunteer Rifle Corps from the 1890s until the 1930s. The fort has never seen battle and has been a place of peaceful contemplation for almost sixty years. I get the feeling that I’m no longer the only one here, and even if I wasn’t, there’s something relaxing about feeling alone (in a good, creative, and calm way) when the world is full of cramped spaces and noise pollution.

I stop in at The Supermart to see their high-priced foods, have a look around The Black Purl yarn shop, and get two scoops of ice cream from Meltdown. The guys are starting work on another boat when I check in, so I will go to the bar on-site to watch a Russia vs. Croyden soccer match. I wasn’t tracking the score or betting on the game, so I’m not sure how much I saw, but I was glad to walk to dinner at Robin Hood … a Fine Pub & Restaurant for calamari and pizza.

We get back on the boat after a long afternoon and have a lemon pie awaiting us (not sure from who or where) and an amazing sunset, too. The boat gets stopped by police for speeding and having no registration number, and Dean clears that up. The seas become restless as the sun disappears, and we return to the marina as the darkening clouds start to cover a blue sky that refuses to lose brightness on a faster schedule. I covered downtown Hamilton on foot and will have no trouble closing my eyes as soon as I touch the couch for the evening.

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Walking Bays in a Daze

Posted on July 6, 2018 by TheJessicaness

I wake up multiple times for water (2 am and drinking another bottle at 730 am) and go back to sleep until almost 10 am. Dustin offers to show me around the island while Dean and Dane go do work stuff after dropping us off at Fort Scaur, which was built between 1868 and the 1880s. Its main purpose was to protect the British Dockyard so that the British Navy could maintain some control over the trade waterways. The United States had gained independence and more land and was kicking the British out of the Gulf of Mexico.

Fort Scaur

The fort was designed to be nearly invisible from land or sea, and the Prussian style influenced the polygonal shape that helps make up a majority of the 22-acre park today. The land attacks were expected to come from the southern shore, and so caponiers, French for “chicken coop,” allowed soldiers to better defend the ditches against small arms but not heavy artillery. Caponiers seem to have gotten their start with the Victorian forts of Malta, ruled eventually by the French and then the British — which would explain the spread of this new defense structure.

Heydon Chapel

The unique item at this fort is the Montcrieff disappearing gun mount holding the original 64-pounder barrel that was remounted in 2009 — and is the only working model in the world. The benefit of this weapon was its ability to hide via counterweight from the enemy while being reloaded to fire against ships — until the opponent learned to fly around WWI. The US would camouflage their guns until they could be replaced by concrete casemates during WWII.

Horseshoe Bay

The fort at first looks like a nice garden — rolling hills, short stone walls, and lush grass but hidden down moss-covered stairways behind bars lies empty magazines, some simple descriptions, and a few budding stalactites — one or two of which might be centenarians. Dustin is in no rush and lets me enjoy the island view — a definition that changes depending on which culture is in charge of tending to the local environment — construction vs conservation.

We walked back to the house (about 30 minutes) to get the scooter while I took pictures of broken trees, bird wings, and a commemorative bench. We drove to the Heydon Chapel since it would be open now, and I got to see the crosses, candles, and cross beams that reside inside, though what was happening outside was more intriguing to me. I could spend hours staring at this water, and as it turns out, that is our plan for the day, as even indoor places want this view on offer.

The chapel is on an estate that has been in existence since 1663 and, as such, is an important part of Bermuda’s history. Mr. Matthews bought the property in the 1940s and was dedicated to the Christian faith in the 70s. It was later consecrated by the Bishop of Bermuda, but the chapel remains non-denominational. The interior was renovated in 2014 with the help of local contractors.

We stop at the petrol station, and there’s to be no straddling of your bike while the attendant refuels it, and the sign on the door reminds me of entering a bank — show your face for the camera (remove helmet and hoodies). The scooter is full with 4.107 liters for an even total of $9.00, almost double what Hawaii and the UK are paying and almost six times what Bahrain pays at 0.37 cents/liter.

Even though the petrol station may seem interesting (more mundane things in different environments always are to me), the next stop is even more so — the world’s smallest draw bridge honors go to the Somerset Bridge. It consists of a 32-inch bisected plank that, along with the chains for the sidewalk, must be opened by hand to allow the ship’s mast to pass. It was mentioned in the acts of Bermuda’s first parliament back in 1620, so it’s very historical, too.

We had parked behind the TBTP (The Bridge Trading Post), and so we went inside, where we got the opportunity to talk with the owner about her journey of turning an abandoned government post office into one she personally ran with a bakery business in the same building. It was a win for her and the community, though I know I’d have to check my mail less often. How much junk mail goes through the trouble of showing up here?

Past a market with customer appreciation day on first Tuesdays, a white-painted church built in 1826, and a wooden sidewalk between the road and sea takes us to Horseshoe Bay. Here, we would spend the next two hours walking between its beach and Warwick Long Bay, feeling the temperature change on our feet based on the amount of pink in the sand. The color comes from microscopic foraminifera shells that live under coral and mix with other skeletons of sea life to be washed on shore.

Flatt’s Inlet

While learning more about these single-celled organisms, I also found the “cliff notes” guide to the development of the atoll that is Bermuda, the only one in the Atlantic Ocean. Basically, some calcite-secreting organisms lived on a caldera until the ancestors turned to limestone that, once exposed to air, turned to sand. The wind hardened the dunes into sandstone, and then the cahow bird, buckeye butterfly, killifish, and Portuguese man-of-war settled the island before people arrived.

As a reward for not falling on the rocks, we got vanilla soft serves from a truck on the way off the beach. We had noticed pizza and beer set up on the way in, and the police were keeping an eye on it for a work function to include volleyball on the beach. It’s easy to tell the local scooters from the rentals based on how they drive. Dustin takes his time driving so I can see more and take some pictures.

We stop at the Royal Bermuda Regiment to offer one of the coastguards some day labor ($200) if they (the guys I’m staying with) win the bid for the government job (whatever that is). We stop across from the aquarium and see a yellow-crowned night heron watching over a green sea turtle in Flatt’s Inlet. We stopped at Grotto Bay Resort to visit their Cathedral Cave (there’s a spa inside) and would’ve gone deeper, but the lights were out (timing, depth, safety, etc.).

The cave was first found in 1609, and Captain Smith described it as dark and cumbersome. It’s thought that Shakespeare might have been inspired by stories of this cave and set a scene in “The Tempest” in a cave closer to home. This cave system has gone by many names. Bermuda has one of the highest concentrations of caves per square mile in the world but not the most by country, a record that belongs to the US, Mexico, Slovenia, or China. The largest and most expensive cave, Son Doong, resides in Vietnam.

We’ll take a break from the sun inside with the air-conditioning of the Swizzle Inn. Its interior is decorated with business cards, dollar bills, markers, and stickers. There are shelves of books and bottles between the soccer game on the TV and the live drummer on the back patio. We stayed over two hours, so even if we got food, we drank more than that, especially me. It’s good that my scooter escort is burly and a local (his mom is from here).

We drive back west and stop at Admiralty House Park for some cave and cliff-dive viewing. We pass a cricket match and some lounging kittens on the way. The cave seems to be the perfect background for a movie plot, where there is hidden treasure or someone trying to escape a castle between tidal floods. Other visitors have brought their swim costumes and are making use of the dedicated swim area. It’s near the marker for the late midshipmen and the pink port-o-potties that we meet Shaun, the dog from Jamaica, and his owner Frank from Northeast England.

I get a decent photo of Shaun and offer to email it to Frank when I get home. We’ll drive through Hamilton with the sun at the horizon, causing the clouds to turn a beautiful dark grey-blue and shades of pink and yellow. When we get to a military base, the courtyard is lit up, and some people are kicking a ball around. I am allowed to explore and see the laundry room, bathroom, and barracks, with only the bottom bunks being used.

I meet Dijon, the current bartender of 25 bottles of spirits and a double-doored commercial refrigerator full of beers and water. There are elephant beers (either Carlsberg or Delirium), a few shots of 1800 tequila, and donuts (a chocolate coconut and a jelly for me), along with a coin challenge (which, of course, I lacked) that comes with a round of drinks that the other person unable to present a coin has to buy for the ten or so of us present.

We stay out late as we talk and laugh outside. We stopped at Gibb’s Hill Lighthouse on the way home at 3 am when the view from the top and the restaurant at the bottom were closed. This 118-foot tower was built in 1846, the first to be made with cast iron (steel couldn’t be bent yet), and only one of two that are still in existence. There are 185 steps to the top, and until 1964, the light was run by hand. The 1904 lens was repaired in 2004 to replace the mercury bearings with steel.

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Picking a Bone in Bermuda

Posted on July 5, 2018 by TheJessicaness

I enjoyed seeing the fort shrouded in darkness, the island at night from inside the van, and the cruise ship lit up in the harbor but I’m looking forward to seeing these things in the light. I drift off to sleep on the couch with the pillows on the floor and a red airline blanket over my feet.

I wake at 7:30 to a bright sunfilled room and the guys are still sleeping so I message the two girls that I contacted prior from Couchsurfing that I will try to meet up with here if Dean is too busy to keep me entertained (except the one who invites me forgets to send a location. I’m debating wandering off when my host invites me along on his morning walk to get some exercise on solid ground before spending a day under the sea.

We walked for about 45 minutes on part of the Railway Trail so I could admire the pastel-colored beach houses surrounded by grey or white stone walls and short leafy trees. We passed an abandoned farm field, some empty benches, and a rock formation of nature’s fortress so we wouldn’t fall from our location to the sea; which looking across its teal surface at the houses on the other side, like lost legos in a grass carpet, make me squeal with morning glee.

There’s Heydon Chapel, built in 1620, that we leave to take a wooded path that seems to be a short cut before being able to walk between the high stone walls with the street lights peeking out just above them. It’s here that I will learn more about the rail system and its pricing for first, second, and working-class passengers as well as special schedules for tourists, boats, freight, and maintenance.

Back to the house for a PBJ and cup of caffeine for breakfast and to grab Dane and Dustin to get to the morning “office” at 10:15 where they will start scrubbing the ocean off of boats with the help of their new employee. I would’ve gladly volunteered for the experience alone, but I am not sure I have the upper body strength to qualify for scrubbing salt and sea life off of fiberglass for two hours, so I will spend an hour walking through and around the Clock Tower Shopping Mall.

I like the ginger jams, but I don’t buy them — along with the purple-flowered hat that doesn’t fit, the cock-shaped bottle opener made with unpolished wood, and the bright blue Croc-looking shoes with more holes in them (their actual name is just as long: women’s slip-on open-back lace garden water clogs) that I wish I hadn’t left without. I also spend time staring at the unpurchasable — the cobbled floor and outdoor look inside, the food-ad screen over the automatic faucet, and the windowpane design that appears as if Superman stopped an incoming bullet.

I wander into the Dockyard Glassworks to see the art in its many stages, but all stations are busy and classes are later — of course they are, not that I would’ve taken one yet as I have procrastinated doing so in San Diego. I walk out of the Diamonds International shop and am lost standing in the middle of a lane when a scooter tells me to get off my phone (which I’m clearly not on) so he shouts ‘camera’ as he drives away.

I will spend another hour walking around to take pictures of the exteriors of the buildings I was just in, a peek into Snorkel Park (referred to as Fun Zone last night) which in the daytime fills with curious tourists or bored cruise ship passengers, and debating entering the National Museum (that as soon as I did the guys would be done with work). So I settle on a place with their walls and ceilings covered in flags, candles, bottles, books, and paintings to spend a few minutes glancing around.

I sample some beers at Frog & Onion but I’m not decided yet so I will try some colder treats at Alex + Pete’s Artisan Ice Cream with inspiration from fruit, alcohol, and Nutella before putting my feet in the water while talking to Dustin and the engineer working inside the boat Dean is scraping the bottom of to get an estimated time of completion, which is “not yet”.

There’s still plenty of exploring for me to do while peering at pedestrians, inspecting walkways, and staring at weathered ropes but I also don’t want to get too sunburned to enjoy the rest of the week. I imagine the stories the boats would tell to the aging architecture as I follow the giant green footsteps painted on the path leading me around parked cars and lots of bars. I’m enjoying the waves crashing and upon their retreat revealing different critters gripping the rocks and catching a meal, mostly the mollusks I’m sure, the West Indian top shell to be exact when a kid walks up.

He’s around eight to ten years old and on his seventh cruise. He lives in Virginia but drove up to New York to catch the ship. We talked a bit about crabs and tsunamis as his imagination went with what we were watching. Kids help offer such a different perspective on life, but that’s for a different post about changing the school systems and why I didn’t become a parent. I hope that kid can maintain some of his awesomeness as growing up has a way of taking that vulnerability and turning it into bitterness.

Victualling Yard, completed 1853

It’s 1:30 pm when I walk over to Calico Jack’s Floating Bar and watch a kid plunge in via plank into the marked off swimming area only to climb the ladder and jump the stairs to do it again. I sample some rum swizzle from a small stand that sells it by the bottle for $27 and I opt for the three-fruit popsicle instead before I trip on a brick. A guy passing by says I must play soccer with my fast feet (or I’m not that coordinated and still have my reflexes working efficiently).

I make it back to Frog & Onion for drinks with Mark who works in the education sector (guessing he didn’t want to bore us with the details on his vacation) and Will, our bartender. I receive a kiss on the cheek before Mark leaves at 3:30 and a picture of us for my Instagram, unknowingly, while Caleb poses for selfies on Josh’s boat and later in our car taking Fallon’s girls paddleboarding (so she can fit all the boards in her van).

I’m ready for a change of scenery so I walk back to the boat to check on the guys and meet Malcolm, the engineer from earlier, who offers to hang out when I need a ride in his busted car. I smile and thank him for the offer and walk back to Jack’s. Here I will meet Gus, the owner of Fun Golf, who buys me a margarita and a shot of Johnny Walker and gets me a slice of watermelon. It’s already after 5 pm so I decide to have another shot and a drink as I’m not driving.

Gus pays the bar tab equivalent to two months of my meager salary before accompanying me to Bone Fish Bar & Grill to have a drink and shot with Jason and his friend. We are just about to have fried avocado and a platter of seafood when Dean shows up to help himself to what he thinks is a free meal because he’s hosting me on the island. I back up as he begins to cause a scene and a girl, my new temporary friend Michelle, comes from the crowd to throw her beer on Dean and calm the issue.

We all step outside so the guys can cool their tempers, and I don’t know what came of the food, but we went back to Jack’s before returning to Bone Fish and finally leaving as the sun was setting, which enjoyably takes a long time here, for dinner at New Woody’s Restaurant where I would let the guys order while I crossed the street to get more pictures of the dimming pinks and blues as my toes dangle over the water from my stone wall seat.

I join Dean, Dane, and Dustin at the table and wonder how I managed throughout the day to get two free pairs of sunglasses as I make most of the giant fish sandwich in front of me disappear into my alcohol-lined digestive system. I pass out as soon as we get back to the house at 10 pm as I’ve had a full day of drinks and sunshine.

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I’m Going to Bermuda Beaches

Posted on July 4, 2018 by TheJessicaness

Fallon gives me a ride to the airport since she’s on her way to work and Caleb is already in his vacation spot of the year (between work and hotel in Mobile, AL) so I can catch an American flight on an American holiday to one end of the island not knowing that my friend, Dean, who invited Caleb and me to stay with him lived on the other end which is about an hour’s drive at 23 mph posted speed limit along a winding road. A taxi delivery would’ve cost me at least $70.

I was the first passenger of the day through the TSA checkpoint with 30 pounds of carry-on, mostly dive gear, and while waiting in the pre-boarding area was asked if I was a gymnast while stretching in prep of living on an airplane for the day. The flight from SAN》PHX consisted of a nap sandwich with a quick photo of the sky between the bread. I had some water and a girl took my cookies that I didn’t want because I wasn’t feeling well and neither was the toilet when I finished with it.

The flight from PHX》MIA had me sitting next to a doctor from NAHEC (one of five program centers in Arizona) traveling to Haiti for his 31st time since the 7.0 magnitude earthquake hit in 2010, this time to fix a girl’s arm because he enjoys returning to help the less fortunate. After some conversation, the doctor let me nerd out on a surgical book in his possession which reminded me of when us kids, my siblings and I, would look through my stepdad’s EMT book at the steps to take to stabilize major wounds until the patient could be accommodated in the ER or operating room. I have a love/hate relationship with the gruesomeness of these people’s misfortunes and the lesson to be learned, “Don’t try this at home or work!”

I stretch in front of an exit row seat with a bag strapped in like a child (lucky bag) with an owner who thinks I’m a yoga teacher. I put my legs up separately, did some crossed-legs push-ups, and a backbend. I decide to save the headstand for the next airport in 100 minutes. I go back to my seat to read some more of a boring book I brought to put me back to sleep.

I land in Miami and get on my next plane that maybe has a third of its seats filled. MIA》BDA I don’t want the airline to charge me for upgraded seats so I don’t move up any rows but enjoy that I can stretch out in the row to myself. I do some crosswords and sudoku in a magazine and the guy across the aisle offers to take my picture “for the view,” so I indulged him since it was with my phone.

The plane is driving awhile once on land which makes it seem like the longest taxi, especially for a small island. I walk off the plane and up to a building that could be a bungalow for 80 or just two rich couples on a weekend getaway – it’s the airport at night, but the bright Bermuda blue still shines in the darkness with the sunshine white light of customs behind it.

I met Dean at the gym months ago and we found we share a love of cycling and mostly talking and being near or deep in the water while also sharing food. Tonight I get to meet his sons, Dustin and Dane, the eldest who was in the local Regiment and the younger one visiting from college in the Bay Area. I didn’t know what to expect out of the trip, except hoping for some discounted diving, and that was part of the appeal of coming to this semi-casual island.

We stop at Harbor Nights on Front Street to celebrate the fact that I showed up as I guess others have been shy to take up the offer (to save over $800 from the cheapest Airbnb to rental scooter). We walk along the weekly market as it begins to close up after 10 pm and I’m happy to get a malasada for $2 as I think it will taste like the ones in Hawaii, but I’m pleased with the new experience and flavor.

We reach one end of the market and while the guys talk with some family I take in the yellow lights against the water and listen to the new accent that surrounds me and appreciate this opportunity to explore another culture. We turn around and are about to buy two cupcakes when the baker lady hands me a pack of four for free. We walk a circle back to the car and drive to a late-night burger place, Ice Queen, so the guys can have first or second dinner.

I suppose I should’ve done better research and realized that a Wednesday on the island is like a weekend in the States. The guys were ready for a night out and I was worn down from flying but I wasn’t about to turn down their offer for entertainment. In all my years of air travel I may have bought one bottle of booze at the duty-free because it was difficult to find elsewhere; this was not one of those times so the guys were hoping that the base was open for cheap drinks since a beer here costs the same as a 6-pack in the States.

With the base closed, we drive the other half of the island to get home and I get to see the elusive tree frog around midnight (8 pm in SD). I’ve only had a 17.5 hour day and Dean wants to go for a scooter ride to show me his boat, but we end up at Fun Zone instead. The place appears to be a place to drink and dance on the beach and there is a fort in the darkness as we approach the two-story tower lit up in blue as a shelter for the rainstorm that quickly passes.

Dean orders each of us a rum swizzle, Bermuda’s national drink, made with Gosling’s Black Seal Rum, which is basically a Long Island but only with rum, to sip on via paper straws while he yells over the speaker blasting music in our faces to pass the time. I’m happy that he’s so excited and when we get back to the house at 1:30 in the morning I crash on the couch.

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