The Land of Pink Sands

By G.A. Peck

It’s true what they say about Bermuda’s beaches: On a bright Atlantic day, the grains glisten and glow in soft shades of pastel pinks and salmon. The pink beaches and crystal-clear turquoise waters provide much of the color scheme for the island. From an airplane above it, or a sailing vessel off its shores, pastel homes and resorts dot the island, a respectable distance between them.

I was introduced to Bermuda many years ago, when my parents generously treated me to a family vacation during a spring break from college. I fell in love with the island—its natural beauty and its beautiful people. I remember it well, the day we left to fly back home, sitting in a window seat on the plane, watching Bermuda recede in the distance. I cried a little, and vowed to visit again. I made good on that promise, and have since spent a good bit of time in Bermuda, including choosing it for my wedding in 2001.

When I chat with friends, family or colleagues about vacation spots they’re considering, I often recommend Bermuda. But the truth is, it’s probably not the best destination for everyone, depending on the type of vacation one craves.

I’ve traveled a good bit, and have found Bermuda to be one of those unique places where I instantly feel comfortable and welcomed and surprisingly relaxed—like we’re a good fit, me and that island.

Location, location
Practically a puddle jump from the eastern seaboard States, getting to Bermuda from any international airport on this coast takes less than two hours. The island sits due east, 890 miles off the coast of North Carolina. Though I’ve never taken one myself, there are also a bounty of cruises to Bermuda, for most major East-Coast seaports.

The island itself is modest—just 21 miles from end to end. Surrounded by coral reefs, it’s protected from the harsh Atlantic. The water that immediately surrounds it is bath-water warm much of the year, and crystal clear, making for a perfect destination for snorkel and dive enthusiasts.

Bermuda’s public beaches are free, accessible and impeccably clean. Most days they unencumbered by the masses, allowing the feeling of being on a private beach. There are no boardwalks or amusements, no planes flying overhead with advertising banners, and only occasionally will you encounter a resident who has set up shop to sell food or local wares along the paths leading to the water. Most of the resort beaches are private, only accessible to hotel guests. Be sure to check out Horseshoe Bay, Warwick Long Bay, and Church Bay (where my husband surprised me by getting down on one knee and proposing following a fabulous day of snorkeling here), and Jobson’s Cove, one of the most serene, picturesque beach destinations I’ve discovered.

Culture and economy
Bermudians are a proper, somewhat conservative people. They are friendly and sincere mostly, even toward tourists who they see as a vital and welcome economic driver. In Bermuda, you’ll find yourself comfortable with approaching a stranger on the street to ask a question—any old question at all—and it’s easy to find yourself engaged in interesting conversation with the locals. They are very polite and particularly accommodating—just good stand-up people, by and large. But the rules of conduct for visitors are strict. Obey the laws, which sort of goes without saying.

• Don’t try to bring drugs into the country—as members of Ashford & Simpson’s band found during a customs’ search (we’d been on the same flight, and witnessed this all go down).
• Do not pollute. It’s an incredibly clean country, and they’d like to keep it that way.
  Be sparing with water. “Water, water everywhere, and not a drop drink,” I think the saying goes. Water conservation is one of the reasons behind Bermuda’s distinctive architecture, incidentally—the roofs designed to capture rain water.
• Dress appropriately. For men, Bermuda shorts with jacket, dress shirt, knee-high socks and loafers are commonplace—for business men and dressier occasions. Slacks—for men and women—is preferred over jeans. Shorts and t-shirts are acceptable—also for both genders—when some outdoor activity calls for more casual and functional clothing. Bermudians frown upon the practice of wearing bathing suits outside of the beach or pool-side context. And bathing suits should err on the side of modesty; thongs or banana hammocks are not acceptable (and may even be contrary to law, if memory serves). If nude sunbathing is your preference, I doubt you’ll find Bermuda a haven. Nor will you find Bermuda to offer much in the way of nightlife—which is the primary reason why it may not be the vacation of choice for all. While there are a few hoppin’ bars along the port of Hamilton, the crowds there tend to be young and sort of remind me of any cheesy, sticky-floored beach bar on an East-Coast boardwalk. And most establishments shut down fairly early compared to our standards.

And finally, Bermuda is expensive. Not just to vacation there, but to live there. It doesn’t manufacture and export much, and you feel the cost of all their importation labors in what you pay at the debit-card machine. Nothing is cheaper in Bermuda.

Climate
Bermuda’s weather is fairly predictable. There are rainy months, especially during hurricane season. Yes, the island is susceptible to the alphabetically named forces of nature, but it’s a rare event. In the summer months, it’s hot—really hot—but the evenings usually bring some breezy relief. And it can get fairly cold there in the winter. Think Carolina-coastline cold. My favorite time of the year to visit is during the early spring. The temperature of air and sea is just right.

Accommodations
I have yet to find anyone who has had an unpleasant experience at any of Bermuda’s resorts—most of which offer lovely accommodations, convenient access to the beach, first-class dining experiences, and courteous, friendly staff. There doesn’t seem to be a “bad choice” on the island when it comes to hotels that range from very small to very large. I am happy to recommend a few where I’ve stayed and thoroughly enjoyed myself:

Pink Beach Club, Tucker’s Town: http://www.pinkbeach.com/
I discovered the Pink Beach Club while searching for an intimate setting—and knowledgeable staff—for my destination wedding in 2001. It was that staff—our in-house wedding coordinator, in particular—who sold me on the lovely but pricey resort.

Though we had envisioned a beach ceremony, the thought of wind and sand wasn’t very practical, so we opted to hold it in the gardens, and stood beneath a Bermuda moongate—said to ensure good luck.

I believe most of the rooms—large, airy spaces, suite-like—are beach front. Breakfast and lunch is offered pool-side or in the main dining room, and consists of standard American-style breakfast fare and pub grub. But in the evenings, the main dining room is rightfully packed with guests decked out in their Sunday bests; the more well-to-do women break out the jewels for the nightly experience, a multi-coursed gastronomic adventure.

During our 10-day honeymoon stay here, we became friendly with—and fanatical about—the resident sommelier, Thierry, who not only guided us through our wine selection every evening, but would reappear at the end of our meal, toting open flame and an I-dare-ya attitude, as he offered to flambé something for us. Dinner and a show, to boot!

We had Thierry light lots of things on fire—dark bing cherries soaked in a dark, rich liqueur. We lit up a Bananas Foster one evening. By the end of our trip, we’d run out of ideas for our flambé chef, and just asked him to torch our liqueur-brimming coffee drinks, still much to our amusement. It never got old.

We enjoyed mornings at the Pink Beach most of all. Groggy-eyed, we’d sit out on our balcony and marvel at the sunrise and brilliantly color parrot fish that lollygagged on the thin surf just below us.

Pompano Beach Club: http://www.pompanobeachclub.com/
I’ve personally stayed here once, and have known others who have enjoyed their time here, as well. The accommodations (at least during the time of my stays) were a little more rustic—more classically “beachy”—than, say, the Pink Beach Club, but it’s comfortable and clean, and has a beach inlet that serves as the gateway to great snorkeling. A rugged cliff-like shore line surrounds the beach, providing sanctuary for colorful sea-faring creatures. At low tide, it’s easy to see the pristine bottom of the ocean floor as you swim out the coral reef, where even more spectacular snorkeling awaits. It was here where I once swam through an entire school of baby barracuda. They are kind of scary up close and personal like that.

Pompano, too, boasts a formal dining room and exceptional food, and a small bar for pre- and post-dinner libations and live entertainment. I don’t know if he’s still tending bar there, but if he is, tell Mervyn I said, “Hello!” He makes the best cocktails and pours the best beer on the island, I’m convinced.

Elbow Beach Club: http://www.mandarinoriental.com/bermuda/
This resort is the first place I bedded down in Bermuda. Back then, the hotel was sort of tired and antiquated, in the old-school beach style, a la Hotel del Coronado of San Diego fame. Since then, it’s undergone a profound makeover, and I understand it’s first-class all the way, very decadent.

Speaking of renovated properties … Michael Douglas’ family’s estate, the Ariel Sands—where Michael, Catherine and clan live part of the year—is getting a facelift. It’s on my list of potential places to stay the next time I find myself Bermuda-bound. Keep track of the renovations and reopening here: http://www.arielsands.com/

And though I haven’t personally stayed at the Sonesta (now called the Wyndham Spa & Resort, I believe), I understand it’s quite decent. Though nestled in a gorgeous section of the South Shore, it always seem too crowded and stereotypically “high-rise beach hotel” to me. Even for those not residing there, the Sonesta welcomes visitors to its outdoor lunch hot spot, and some of the access to the islands water sports—like scuba diving—can be found on this property. http://www.bermuda4u.com/Hotels/wyndham.html

For a more quaint experience, consider renting a private home or cottage, or opt for one of the island’s more intimate B&Bs.

Getting Around
Because the country is so contained, it’s easy to get around, and unlike other Carribean-island destination, it’s not only safe—but preferable—that you leave the confines of a resort and explore the country in total.

There are no rental cars in Bermuda. Unless you’re a citizen, you have no license to drive here. You can, however, rent a scooter and get around seamlessly and inexpensively. This has always been my transportation preference.

There are also plenty of taxis (note: very expensive) and pretty efficient public bus routes.
I should also caution against the scooters if you’re not comfortable on two wheels. Traffic, though sparse, moves quickly, and local commuters and commercial vehicles expect you to keep pace.

By the way, they drive on the left in Bermuda, and it’s unwise to travel the sometimes treacherous, tight roads if you’re not up for the adventure. And most definitely do not attempt to scooter around after cocktails. It is not only foolish—in that you’re likely to kill yourself or someone else—but also is very much frowned upon and prosecuted by local officials.

Food & Beverage
It’s hard for me to categorize Bermudian cuisine. Definitely internationally inspired, fresh fish and seafood are abundant. British, French and Carribean flavors and ingredients are commonplace on most menus.

Though the island boasts some great brunch/lunch and casual-dining joints, foodies will most likely prefer a resort’s meal plan, which usually includes breakfast and dinner. And by “dinner,” I mean six or more courses of amazing, interesting, inspired dishes, finished off with hand-crafted desserts. You’re expected to dress for dinner in Bermuda, by the way—jacket and tie is preferred for the gentlemen.

Some of the resorts offer meal plans that allow you to visit other cooperative resorts and dine there. I recommend you take advantage of this, of the varying chefs and magnificent views.
If there’s a national dish, I imagine it would be “Bermuda Fish Chowder,” a spicy, rich-with-sherry concoction you should try at least once. Epicurious offers this recipe for Bermuda Fish Chowder:
http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Bermuda-Fish-Chowder-104011

Japan has its sake; France its champagne. Mexico is known for tequila. For Bermuda, it’s Gosling’s Black Seal Rum (http://www.goslingsrum.com/), Rum Swizzles (http://www.drinksmixer.com/drink1198.html) and Yellowbirds (http://www.drinksmixer.com/cat/3235/).

No trip to Bermuda is complete without an afternoon of al fresco dining and a steady supply of swizzles at The Swizzle Inn (http://www.swizzleinn.com/). Its unofficial motto: “Swizzle Inn, swagger out” is apropos.

Things to do
If just kicking back and relaxing on a beach isn’t your thing, and you prefer more adventuresome pastimes, have no fear. Scattered about the island, you’ll find a slew of water sports—everything from snorkeling, snuba, scuba and helmet dives to parasailing, kayaking, charter fishing, and glass-bottom boat and sightseeing cruises.

If, like me, your delicate skin can only take so much sea and sand in a week, there’s plenty of other things to see and do in Bermuda!

Need a brisk workout following a night-o-swizzles? Scooter or bus to the Gibbs Hill Lighthouse and climb all 117-feet worth of stairs for one of the best vantage points on the island. http://www.bermuda4u.com/Attractions/bermuda_attractions_gibbs_hill_lighthouse.html

Play golf: http://www.bermuda-online.org/golf.htm

Check out the Bermuda Aquarium, Museum & Zoo: http://www.bamz.org/

Take in some art at the Bermuda National Gallery: http://www.bermudanationalgallery.com/

Stroll the beach on horseback: http://www.bermudatourism.com/181.aspx

Stop and smell the roses at the Bermuda Botantical Gardens: http://www.bermuda4u.com/Attractions/bermuda_attractions_bermuda_botanical_gardens.html
Shop: There are plenty of shops within a few blocks’ radius of Hamilton proper. It’s an odd blend of cheeky tourist traps hocking Bermuda souveniers, old family-business clothiers and importers of British goods on one block, retail chains on the next. There are fast food joints there now, which I hadn’t recalled being there within two decades past. Some local artists have set up shop down the alley ways off the beaten path. And considering Hamilton is a port town and capital, it’s hustling and bustling with the 9-to-5ers who keep the business of Bermuda running. Better shopping, in my opinion, can be found in St. George. http://www.bermuda-online.org/seetown.htm

Several times, I’ve ventured to the furthest tip of the island to visit the Royal Naval Dockyard, which has a super-cool Maritime Museum, watched over by a statue of Neptune. Here, too, you’ll find Dolphin Quest, which I have only observed, because it’s often knee-deep in tourists who want a chance to pet a dolphin. You don’t really get to “swim” with them as the advertisements imply, by the way. And I recall it to be somewhat cost prohibitive. But the dockyard and the maritime museum are well worth the trek and price of admission. http://www.bermudatourism.com/216.aspx

And don’t miss the sort-of kitschy Devil’s Hole Aquarium: http://www.devilshole.bm/ I’ve been there once, on a day when few other tourists were there. We had fun watching the turtles glide about, and were told we were very lucky, indeed, because “Henry is out!” the attendant informed us. Henry is the aquarium’s shy, resident moray eel. To this day, my husband uses the phrase “Look, Henry is out,” to describe less innocent sightings.

And if you’re visiting during a holiday, be sure to ask the locals about how they’re celebrated. For example, Bermuda Day—in May—is marked by a grand parade through the streets of Hamilton. The elaborate costumes, music and skits make it a must-see spectacle. http://www.bermuda-online.org/pubhols.htm

Never gets old
It was during one evening venture to Hamilton that I’ve always thought really exemplified the generosity and spirit of its residents. My husband and I were celebrating our final night in country, following 10 perfect days there. We’d done our share of relaxing and wanted to hit the town following another awesome meal at the resort. We took a taxi into town, and it deposited us right on the main drag. We went into what I’m guessing was Bermuda’s most populated bar and had a few beverages while listening to an endless loop of bad dance music and reggae.

There, we met a young guy—whose name escapes me now, so we’ll call him “Reggie.” We got to talking, learned a little about Reggie’s story, about growing up in Bermuda. He asked us questions about life back in the States. When last call came too fast, he invited us to what he called a “private” after-hours club. Let me just say, in another island scenario, I probably would see red flags, remember horror movies where people are abducted and sold into human trafficking rings by throwing caution to the wind in this way. In Bermuda, it’s different. And Reggie seemed sincere and trustworthy. We followed him through the streets, deeper and deeper into the real Hamilton, the areas where most tourists never see, where people really work and grow up and lead their lives. He took us to a little hole-in-the-wall place, and couldn’t help but notice that we had fairer skin than all the other Bermudian patrons.

We got an unmistakably icy reception at first. Customers looked upon us skeptically, as we bellied up to the bar. Reggie disappeared to the loo, and I began to wonder how well-liked he was among the patrons. This was no “Cheers,” and our Reggie was no “Norm.” Men and women sort of snarled at Reggie or shook their heads in protest as he passed by their tables.
The bartender, a large man, ignored us as long as he could, and finally took our drink orders and began to slowly mix them for us.

Suddenly, we heard a voice from across the bar—the voice of an angel it seemed to me in that awkward moment—calling out our names. I turned and recognized the friendly face of Carol, a server from our resort’s restaurant. We’d made small talk with her while she placed bagels or sandwiches before us. She had a great sense of humor and was a lot less stuffy than some of the other staff.

Carol called us over and greeted us with bear hugs. Instantly, the fog lifted, and we were not only welcomed by those around us, we were celebrated. Carol knew everyone there, and introduced us around. We talked about her family and Philadelphia, and gossiped about some of the patrons that she’d point out and giggle about. She had an infectious laugh and had us laughing and drinking more that night than we’d planned to.

It was Carol who introduced me to Frangelica, and who swore that the amber nectar is hangover proof. And Carol who let us pile into car in the wee hours of the morning, and took us to another already-closed bar, where the owner treated us to cocktails on the house and free reign of the sound system. Carol stuck to Cokes. I stuck with Frangelica.

It was near dawn, I think, when we were back on the street and sans taxi to take us back to our hotel. Carol, a good sport, took pity on us and drove us back to the dock where the cruise ships pull in, where we caught one. It was a long, fun night—one of those travel experiences when you get a good feel for the people, the culture, and make a friend or two. When we said goodbye, we promised to meet again, “for shopping in Philadelphia,” Carol suggested.

That pretty much sums up why I love the country, adore its people, marvel at its geology. It’s an expensive alternative to other similar Carribean islands, but I always feel that you get what you pay for, and for me, I’ve always found it to offer a smart return on my investment.