Bermuda, 2004
(or At Last—Our Honeymoon)
| 3/22 | 3/23 | 3/24 | 3/25 | 3/26 | Epilogue (March 28) |
March 22, 2004 (Monday)
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Well,
it's been a pleasantly uneventful morning to this point. Helene and I woke up at 3:00
a.m. after maybe four hours of sleep apiece, with my having decided to play Bluestone's
with John and the gang the night before until about 9:30. Somehow, I'm not feeling
particularly tired. Our cab came at around 4:00; the cabbie was either Russian or
Israeli from his speech. We made it to
O'Hare in good time, and after waiting half an hour in the check-in line (by the
way—the one thing I hadn't counted on for this trip was our coinciding departure
with collegiate spring breaks; O'Hare at 4:20 a.m. was a very busy place),
we got through security so that Helene could spend another 15 minutes in line to get
a cup of coffee at McDonalds.
The plane boarded fairly promptly, and we made it from Chicago into Philadelphia right at 9:00. We needed to hurry to catch our 9:30 connection (God, I'd forgotten how much I hate Philly International), but somehow made it with time to spare. I hope our luggage can say the same thing.
Helene has been abnormally calm for a travel day, although that may have more to do with our wake-up time than anything else. Primarily to this point, any worrying to this point has been confined to the temperature and other weather conditions in Bermuda. As usual, I simply want to get the "travel" portion of our trip over and done with as quickly as possible.
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On the bright side, as we near Bermuda, there are no signs of yellow skies, strange clouds, mysteriously churning waters, UFOs, ghost ships, or Flight 19. We are due to touch down in about a half hour at Bermuda International Airport. I'm setting aside the writing for the time being to get a little reading in before landing.
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We
arrived on time at Bermuda International, and then whiled away an hour winding our
way through customs. While in line, we were entertained by what I jokingly referred
to as the Bermuda National Band (it was a guitar, bass, and drum trio performing Caribbean
music). We eventually made it to the taxi pickup, where we shared a ride with a couple
bound for Grotto Bay (which was the other resort we were considering) and our driver,
Tom, who was a Canadian transplant to the island. Tom was also a good conversationalist,
telling us about the island as we drove. We also got our introduction to Bermuda traffic
en route; there are basically three roads (North, Middle, and South) that traverse
the island, eventually converging at either end. Everything is two lanes, except where
Hurricane Fabian damage rendered it one lane.
Incidentally, we were treated to what happens when a car blows a red light on a one-lane stretch. The car in front of us ran the light and disappeared around a blind curve. As we were talking to Tom, who evidently had a pretty good guess as to what was about to transpire, the car reappeared within a couple of minutes in full reverse, backing away from the bus that had the right of way. Kind of funny the way it happened, but, as Tom pointed out, it could have gone pretty badly if the oncoming motorist had been a motor scooter rather than a bus. Most of the roads, such as the one we were on, are winding through very hilly terrain.
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We checked into Elbow Beach at roughly 2:30 p.m. local time (we're 2 hours ahead of CST here). Really, everyone here so far seems exceedingly nice. Once we'd been shown to our room—which they had upgraded to an ocean view—we grabbed some lunch in the Veranda Cafe and then sat on the beach for an hour or so. The sand is very fine here, much different from anything I'm used to. It's also interesting to see the breakers on the rocks about thirty yards or less offshore. There were also some small man-o-wars washed up on the beach (they look like blue Ziploc baggies with tentacles), which I understand is an occasional local hazard on the southern shores.
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We
then headed back inside, where we acquainted ourselves with Curlene, one of the concierges.
Curlene proved instrumental in helping us set up a date with the dolphins as well
as reservations to the Lobster Pot in Hamilton for dinner. We dressed and cabbed it
into Hamilton and found the Lobster Pot on Bermudiana Road (none of the streets seem
very well marked here, making navigation occasionally difficult) after wandering for
a bit on Front Street to kill some time. Helene had a spiny lobster, while I tried
one of the local delicacies—broiled rock fish filet (it's a lot like filet of
sole or flounder). We had a very good meal and found a taxi to take us back to Elbow
Beach.
We've now returned to the hotel, where we've discovered that Bermuda's basic cable package is A) better and B) has better reception than our cable package back in Glenview. Sigh. Anyway, we're both lying in bed, Helene's asleep, and I'm writing this journal entry. We're most likely exploring more of the island ad hoc tomorrow during the day.
March 23, 2004 (Tuesday)
We woke up leisurely at about 9:00 this morning. Last night, I have to say that I was treated to my own private reality show after 11:00 p.m. When our neighbors in 623 returned to their room, evidently there was much to-do about what the couple's son, Justin, had been up to back home in Mississippi while the parents were in Bermuda. I know all this because the phone conversation couldn't have been any louder (or clearer) unless it had happened directly in our room. My limited understanding of the situation consists of the following:
- Justin had thrown a party back at the house
- The festivities of the evening included chocolate syrup wrestling in either or both the backyard and living room
- Justin has been grounded and had his car taken away until he graduates
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Anyway, we got breakfast at the Seahorse Grill, where they have an excellent buffet. After breakfast, we stopped by the concierge desk and grabbed a couple of transport passes for the day. The weather is overcast and very breezy; we're hoping it clears at some point today. We caught the number 7 bus into Hamilton, where our first stop was the Bermuda Underwater Exploration Institute. The building is a lovely hybrid of museum and theme playground, much like the Museum of Science and Industry back in Chicago. Although the Dive Experience was pretty much pure cheese, the rest of the exhibits were fascinating. There was much of the museum devoted to the work of diver Teddy Tucker, who is one of Bermuda's premier wreck divers. The exhibits included the infamous San Pedro Cross, which had been mysteriously replaced with a plastic replica sometime before a royal visit and has never been recovered. And, as I look around, my wife has mysteriously vanished. I shall attempt to find her....
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After catching up with Helene, we left the Institute and hoofed it downtown into Hamilton. There we did some shopping, followed by lunch at the Porch Restaurant on Front Street. The restaurant had a lovely view of the harbor, although the restaurant owner lamented that the view went to hell in a handbasket once the cruise ships pull into port. We may be exploring more of Hamilton in the afternoon or heading back to Elbow Beach to take a dip in the pool. I'm not sure which at this point.
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[Later
that afternoon] Okay, so we went for a dip in the hot tub after finally
catching a bus back to the hotel.
Really, for an island that has supposedly made it so difficult on everyone to drive
a car (I understand that there is a one-car limit per household, in addition to the
exorbitant expense involved in purchasing one and keeping it filled with gas), the
powers that be have certainly made it next to impossible for anyone to walk. Sidewalks,
such as there are, commonly disappear with no warning whatsoever, to be replaced by
narrow, two-lane roads with no shoulders and typically bounded by low stone fencing
on either sides. And don't get me started on the paucity of crosswalks and bus stops
in Hamilton.
Whatever. Anyway, we at last made it back to the hotel as it began to sprinkle. The weather hasn't really improved that much to this point, although yesterday was a sunny 75 degrees when we arrived. Today, not so much (65 and cloudy). Once we had tracked down a suitable tote bag for our belongings (we're dipping with the dolphins at the Dockyards tomorrow morning), we changed into our swimwear and wound up enjoying the hot tub with, of all people, a gun dealer from Mississippi. I have to admire Helene's restraint when the topic was broached. After the hot tub, I took a dip in the regular pool, supposedly heated—which turned out to be quite a temperature variance. I realized two things when I went in:
- "Heated pool" is a very subjective description
- I had failed to remove my wallet from my back pocket before entering the hot tub, much less the pool
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Ah,
the smell of soaked leather. If I'm lucky, the wallet will dry out before we leave
Friday. So, I wound up using the hair dryer on my cash and several other personal
effects; then we got dressed and caught a cab back into Hamilton. We ate a very good
meal at Hog Penny Tavern (a friend
had recommended it) that wound up costing over $100.00 for the two of us. I've now
come to expect London-esque prices for almost everything. Helene had shrimp, and I
had a very good beef tenderloin. Also tried Black Seal Rum, an island specialty, that
was quite good.
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While
we were there, one of the wait staff attempted to help steer us toward Fort Hamilton,
which he said seemed to consist solely of a lone naval gun and a plaque near the Cabinet
Building. It seemed strange to all of us that this would be a listed historical
highlight of the city. The mystery was solved when we found the gun and plaque later
on that evening, along with a sign that pointed the way to, well, Fort Hamilton. Although
the gates were closed for the evening, it was quite apparent that there was indeed
an actual fort on the premises. We're going to give it a try tomorrow, perhaps. At
the least, we got a nice evening stroll out of it.
We caught a ride back to Elbow Beach via taxi driver Leroy "Poker" Augustus. Leroy tried to hard-sell us that we were spending far too much money on lodging; instead, we should charter him at $90 to cart us around for three hours looking at guest houses, which would only cost $65 per night, and touring the island. We thanked him, for what it was worth, took his card, and retired to the hotel bar for a nightcap before heading back to the hotel room.
Now Helene is sleeping, and I'm finishing the day's recap Tomorrow, we swim with the dolphins. By the way, happy birthday (36) to me!
March 24, 2004 (Wednesday)
Helene and I woke up around quarter past seven this morning, showered, and went to breakfast. After making dinner reservations for the Seahorse Grill, I got some cash from the front desk (we're going through it like water here), bought a couple of transportation passes, and we caught a bus to the Dockyards. The clouds are occasionally breaking, but it's 65, overcast, and sprinkling a little from time to time.
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We made the Dockyards at about 9:50; Helene was able to browse the shopping mall and crafts places before we headed over to Dolphin Quest in the Bermuda Maritime Museum. The people there, like everyone, were exceedingly nice; our trainer, Cymione, was great to work with.The wetsuit into which I was crammed, however, gave me a new insight into what sausage filling must feel like. Between that and the life vest, I felt about as buoyant—and mobile—as a cork fishing bobber.
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The water was a bit cool at 64 degrees. The wetsuit did help mollify it. Once the initial shock had worn off, the experience was very special. We spent 25 minutes in the tank with the critters and got some wonderful photographs out of it. In fact, we were only supposed to get six for the price we paid; they gave us the whole batch of 25 plus pictures of all the dolphins on CD-ROM. I think Bailey was my favorite dolphin, although poor Somers with the broken jaw was very playful. We changed into street clothes and explored the rest of the Maritime Museum.
As an aside, what is with this wind? It's a sustained 30 knots with higher gusts if it's a breeze out here.
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Anyway, we toured the rest of the Maritime Museum, including the Commissioner's House, before going to the Frog and Onion Pub for lunch, which is where I'm writing at the moment while my beloved is apparently getting bored out of her skull. We'll either ferry it back to Hamilton and catch a bus from there, or we'll catch a bus from here back to the hotel. More later.
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We finished lunch and headed back to the Glass Works, where we bought a few gifts for family and friends. Then we caught the ferry back into Hamilton, which was a fairly easy jaunt (about twenty minutes shorter than taking the bus). Helene was a trooper, battling both her hair-trigger sea sickness and her fear of drowning while trapped inside a boat. Once we debarked at Hamilton's harbor, we retraced our steps to Fort Hamilton and explored.
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The fort itself is small, but owns a commanding view over the harbor; it's easy to see why the location was chosen. According to the placards, the fort was begun in the 1860s, with the Royal Engineers carving the underground galleries out of the solid rock. The fort itself, however, was outdated evidently before it was even completed. Now, it is more like a national park; there is no admission and no tour guides to be seen. It's a pretty cool way to experience the fort. While there, we met the coolest orange cat, who immediately curled up in Helene's lap and soaked up our attention. We got some good pictures of that.
After I explored the underground galleries and the moat walk, we left near closing time (5:00) and caught the number 7 bus back to Elbow Beach. Helene went for the hot tub, while I laid down for a bit before grabbing a shower. We've got dinner reservations for the Seahorse Grill at 7:00 tonight. More when we get back, as we're about seven minutes away from our dinnertime.
March 25, 2004 (Thursday)
Well, the recap of last night past dinner isn't much;we had a nice dinner that lasted until maybe 8:30, went back to the room, changed, took a walk on the beach in the still-howling wind, and then crawled into bed.
I woke up this morning with my sinuses going off at about 6:00. Smoked, read a little, and then both of us woke up for good sometime around 8:00. We showered and had breakfast, then set out for St. George and the historical district. Our taxi driver was Ernest, of Portuguese descent who had lived there all his life. Ernest was a great deal of fun; he knew lots of the local lore and (it seemed like) most of the people. He took us to the island, where we quickly toured Fort St. Catherine at the easternmost tip of Bermuda.
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The fort overlooks the area where Somers first shipwrecked on Bermuda, and dates back to the Napoleonic era (although the site has historically been fortified, with the first one being constructed in 1614); the present fortifications comprise the seventh fort construction on the point. We saw a number of exhibits in the old powder magazine, including a model retrospective on the fortifications from the 1600s to present. There was also a video presentation, although we didn't stay terribly long as Ernest had agreed to stay in the parking lot so he could land us in the town afterward, and the meter was running. I would have liked to have been more leisurely about our tour, in retrospect. We caught up with Ernest in the parking lot, and he dropped us off in King's Square in the heart of old St. George.
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Unfortunately, the season seems to be slightly against us. The weather is gray again, although it hasn't rained yet. And many of the attractions in St. George seem either to be recovering from Fabian (again, there are construction notices and apologies everywhere) or not yet opened for the tourist season as of yet. We had a nice talk, however, with the gal from the visitor's bureau, who told us what was opened. I was looking forward, in fact, to checking out the reconstructed Deliverance; however, the lady informed us that there had been a fire during the night just the week before, and the attraction had been shut down. I saw the damage she was talking about, and although it's recoverable, there was some noticeable charring in the aftcastle.
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We
took a look first at St. Peter's,
believed to be the oldest Anglican church in the western hemisphere. The interior
reminded me a lot of the colonial-era churches back home, and we didn't spend a ton
of time inside because, well, it was small and easy to see. We took a look through
the old graveyard, then stopped by a local dive where Helene could get some coffee.
She's been rather out of it all morning, and I'm not quite sure what that's about,
but she seems now to be perking up a tad. Incidentally, I have finally drawn the conclusion
that my wife and I differ in one important regard. Whereas I am a history (especially
maritime) type of person, and the forts and museums are fascinating to me, my wife,
on the other hand, is more of a shop person, and I think the small-town nature of
St. George's may not be piquing her interest as much as mine.
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We left to go visit the Unfinished Church on—and I'm not kidding—Church Folly Lane. It seems that the gothic-style church had originally been intended as a replacement for St. Peter's Church in town when the latter was deemed too far gone to warrant renovations. The church construction was begun in 1874, but, as the name of the lane may suggest, it seems that God wanted St. Peter's renovated after all. Problems plagued the structure, including financing difficulties, political infighting within the parish, and a storm that damaged the new construction. Eventually, the parish decided that it was less costly to redo St. Peter's and left the building as an imposing shell on a hillock. Now, the Bermuda National Trust keeps it as part of the St. George's World Heritage Preserve. We got some lovely pictures of both the interior and exterior.
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Once done with the Unfinished Church, we headed back to King's Square and caught a taxi with what had to be the only non-talkative cabbie on the island. The taxi took us to Flatt's Village, where we paid a visit to the Bermuda Aquarium Museum and Zoo (BAMZ). The aquarium part was quite small, taking up maybe the same expanse as one wing of the Shedd Aquarium back in Chicago. The whole complex, in fact, was fairly compact, although that's something else I've come to expect on the island (there's only so much room, after all). It was interesting to walk through the aviary, and we got a good laugh out of the tree kangaroo—apparently, the staff had left the service door open, and the tree kangaroo was much more interested in inspecting the broom closet in back than entertaining us. After the BAMZ, we hoofed it to a local restaurant called Rustico in town, where we ate lunch. We will be heading back into Hamilton via bus after we eat, assuming that we can find the right route and/or bus stop....
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We
made it back into Hamilton without any problems, taking the bus into the city. We
spent a little of the afternoon topping off our gift purchases, including a nice little
painting by a local artist of the Unfinished Church, which we bought for my parents.
After some time walking around the town, we caught a taxi and cabbed it back to Elbow
Beach. The sun had come out, and the afternoon had warmed enough that we decided
to chance the beach again. Helene laid out in the sun while I, determined as ever
to have at least some fun in the surf, plunged into the water. Once again, the initial
shock of 65 degree water had the boys swimming upstream, so to speak, especially with
me being sans wetsuit this time around, but once you got use to it, the water was
fine. The swells were running at about 1-2 feet, which afforded some of the best body-surfing
I've had in some time. I did, however, come out weighed down by what seemed like ten
pounds of fine sand that accumulated in my bathing suit pockets in the process.
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From
the beach, we spent a little more time poolside,
where Helene took advantage of the hot tub and I watched the sky from a lounge chair.
We then headed back to the room to shower and change. Now we're going to try the Veranda
Cafe again for a little lighter dinner fare since my wife is convinced that she could
pass for a Macy's parade float after eating out all week.
We ate and had a couple of drinks at the cafe, then walked around the hotel for a bit before retiring to the room. On the way back, our doorman, Raymond (Ming) personally invited Helene and I back to Bermuda so he could take us to dinner with his family. I'm telling you, the people here are amazing. Back at our room, we took advantage of the television (it's been a long week, even in paradise) and watched the resumption of the NCAA tournament in bed. At least I did. Helene went fast asleep pretty soon into it. I cannot believe, by the way, how strong Connecticut looks in this tourney. The ACC still has Duke and Georgia Tech left, but Wake lost tonight to St. Joseph's. Somehow Alabama has made it to the Elite Eight as well. Looks like I'll be pulling for Duke YET AGAIN. Oh well.
March 26, 2004 (Friday)
We woke up this morning around 8:00 and did some showering and packing. After getting the majority of our things together, we took our last breakfast at the Seahorse Grill buffet. The weather is the nicest we've had this morning since our arrival, go figure; the breeze is light and the sun is out. After breakfast, I arranged to have the shuttle pick up the bags while Helene took a last go-round of the hotel shops. We were able to check out with no problems, and then we wound up catching a taxi to the airport that was driven by none other than our first cab driver, Tom. We had a lot of good conversation along the way, naturally.
Clearing customs at Bermuda International was the easiest we've ever gone through customs anywhere. It probably took us less than half an hour to check luggage, get our boarding passes, and get through U.S. Customs. All in all, one of the easiest airport check-in experiences I've ever had. Even the snide agent at the check-in counter couldn't spoil it. Incidentally, note to self: when you fill out the pink immigration form upon arriving in Bermuda, keep it. They want it back when you're leaving.
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We
ate lunch in the airport and boarded in short order. We took off from Bermuda International
a short time ago, and the island is
retreating into the distance. Now there's nothing but clouds and the deep blue
beneath us. Oh, and a loud, seat-kicking two-year-old directly behind me. I'm highly
tempted to invite Ms. Precious into the lavatory to play with the blue water. It figures
we'd draw the short straw on at least one of the legs of our flights....
Now we're about ten minutes from landing at O'Hare. Philly was uneventful, although we hit what has to be the Holy Grail of air travel. Our Bermuda flight arrived in Philadelphia at gate B7; our flight to Chicago departed from gate B6. Anyway, the flight has been uneventful (although a tad bumpy, even at 35,000 feet), and although we had a short delay on the tarmac in Philadelphia, we are still due on time for arrival.
At O'Hare, we literally met our luggage on the conveyor as we entered baggage claim. My, but O'Hare was crowded at 6:00 p.m. on a Friday night; I'm glad we weren't flying out. After finally catching a taxi, we ended our trip with the worst cabbie in the region. He mistook our directions from the outset, avoiding instead of taking 294 to Dempster, and the net result was a $47 cab ride that should have been much shorter and about $15-$20 cheaper. Helene was fuming by the end of it, but as I said at the time, the most important thing is that we made it home.
EPILOGUE—March 28, 2004 (Sunday)
Well, here I am back at my keyboard and reflecting upon another trip. This one was special because we did it for ourselves—no going to visit anyone, no trying to coordinate schedules, and no bunking with anybody we knew. This has been a much-delayed (and much-needed) honeymoon for Helene and me. We are now settling back into normal life, having spent the majority of yesterday doing nothing in particular. The dog is back home and happy to see us again (we picked him up from his boarding place yesterday morning), and the cat has finally stopped yowling (she normally gets very talkative when we've been away for any length of time, and it lasts about 24-36 hours after a trip like this). As usual, I have taken the time to think through some general impressions and conclusions regarding our experiences on the island:
- Bermuda is much, much more rolling in its terrain than I would have thought going into this trip
- The people of Bermuda are generally some of the nicest people on the planet
- I'll still trade the weather of late March for the population swell of late April
- I don't care what they say—it doesn't feel safe to walk on a road with traffic passing by within a foot or so of you
- Helene and I need to plan on at least one afternoon on trips like this where we each do our own thing and meet up later
- Having been there once now, you might be able to get me traveling via motor scooter if and when we return
- Next time, I'm planning a specific Fort & Battery tour
- Next time, I'm bringing more cash—it's expensive as all get-out there
- Next time, I will at least snorkel if not SCUBA while on the island
- No matter how good the trip is, there's still no place like home