FINALE - BERMUDA

22nd June 2018

Another typical little secluded cove.

There was an 18 mile long railway linking St. George's to Somerset Parish at the western end of the island known at the time as 'Old Rattle and Shake', which may give some indication of its quality. Anyway, it was closed down in 1948 but the old track is now called the 'Bermuda Railway Trail' and is, apparently, a delightful way to travel the length of the island on foot, bicycle or horseback. I'm sure it is but I chose not to. I took a scooter instead and went west, travelling down the southern side on South Road.

Left: The popular Horseshoe Bay in Warwick Parish (the island is divided into parishes). It was fairly crowded when I got there because I suspect a cruise ship had arrived and this place is on the tourist agenda.

A decent place for a dip I suppose and there is a pleasant bar and restaurant, plus showers and changing rooms behind the shoreline. As with everything here; not cheap. From the Rum Bum Beach Bar you can hire a 'sand-chair' for $15, snorkel for $25 and the 'VIP Package' i.e. small shelter, 4 deck-chairs and a bucket of distilled water, for $150! Distilled water in a bucket? Not my idea of the ideal beach refreshment! I thought it was something you put in car batteries.

Left: The Horseshoe Baby Beach next door, separated by a cliff and dunes over which you can climb. A pretty little beach which has shallow water and does not suffer from undertows as at the main beach and therefore considered more suitable for children. I suppose they all have their drawbacks.

On down through Southampton Parish (another swish golf course, the Port Royal) towards Somerset Village. On crossing Somerset Bridge over an inlet to the Great Sound you pass over what is termed 'the smallest drawbridge in the world' (right). This is simply a plank which opens about 18" to alow the masts of yachts to pass through. Hardly worthy of the term 'drawbridge' in my opinion.

Left: The sign which explains it all, if you can enlarge it to read.

I stopped for lunch at the enticingly named 'Somerset Country Squire Restaurant' on the northern side of the village. Not a bad place at all with a decent bar and friendly staff.

Entry to the outside dining area was through one of these popular 'moon gates'. On the sign outside was another 'NO LOITERING' warning. In fact it reads "Absolutely No Loitering In Or Around These Premises". Hang on! I thought that was what one was meant to do inside a bar/restaurant.

I asked if I could be excused for a short loiter while I had my lunch. I was duly granted permission.

Travelling further on I would have reached The Royal Dockyard, so went back the way I came and visited Gibbs Hill Lighthouse (right). This is a fully functioning lighthouse which was built in 1846. Made of cast-iron, it is 117' high and you can climb up a spiral staircase (185 steps) to the viewing platform, which I did. It has a $2.50 entrance fee which is probably the cheapest thing you can buy on the whole island. It is near Horseshoe Bay and overlooks another splendiferous golf course (The Turtle Hill Golf Club). I discovered that golf courses take up 17% of the island's 21.6 square miles.

Left: My trusty scooter which seemed to work OK but was a real bugger to pull back onto its stand and resulted in scraped knuckles and much swearing. They had removed the side leaning stands on all scooters because they were worried that they would fall over.

Right: A good view from the top of the lighthouse looking west towards Somerset Parish and on up north to the Royal Naval Dockyard. A very built-up island, and what you see here is considered the more 'rural' area.

Further east going back the way I came, I called in at the Coral Beach Country Club, on or near Elbow Beach in Paget Parish. A very posh club with, presumably, well-heeled members.

I made enquiries about membership which, although I could never imagine joining, at least gave me free rein to wander around and explore the place.

Right: The smart dining room, or one of them.

.....plus tennis courts....














...and immaculate croquet lawn. A strict dress code of 'whites' is applied here.

I had a word with the Club croquet 'professional' who is a charming ex-Brit called Robin Blackburne. He has worked at the Club for over 20 years. I took the opportunity to book my host in for an hour's coaching session, at $100 per hour. He wasn't made aware of this at the time, but I expect he has sorted something out by now with Mr Blackburne.

I mentioned previously that you cannot hire cars on the island. Many  tourists don't feel safe on scooters, so they have introduced a little electric powered vehicle called a 'Twizy' (made by Renault I think). These are like scooters on 4 wheels with a roof and have become popular. Not sure what their performance is like or how you charge them up. I haven't seen any in UK, or anywhere else, yet.

Well that just about covers most of what I experienced on my trip to Bermuda. A lovely place, if you can afford it.

So back to UK at the beginnning of a heat wave which brings out all the best sights in this lovely country of ours.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,--
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

William Shakespeare, "King Richard II", Act 2 scene 1

....and bugger Brussels.

HAMILTON - BERMUDA

19th - 20th June 2018

Hamilton harbour

To Hamilton from St. George's by bus. The bus service around the island is normally quite good, when they are not on strike or 'go-slow' that is, which I experienced on my way back to St. George's from The Royal Naval Dock Yards the other day. I then had to get my host to collect me by scooter from the Hamilton bus station as there had been a 'work to rule' which meant leaving many people stranded and totally informationless.

This time the bus worked out OK and it is about 45 mins to Hamilton, the capital, on a north shore peninsular about halfway down the island. Not a bad sort of place with some fairly upmarket looking office buildings, no doubt where all these insurance and re-insurance businesses are based.

Left: Cathedral of the Most Holy Trinity on, unsurprisingly, Church Street near the centre. Quite an imposing building but I didn't bother to go inside.

There are lots of decent shops and shopping 'malls' but, surprisingly, few outdoor cafés along the harbour front (Front Street) or elsewhere. Most of the bars and restaurants seemed to be in upstairs locations. Room for improvement here, I felt. One aspect of Bermuda I really admire is that there are no foreign 'fast food' franchises. They are banned. Actually one, a Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet, sneaked in before they were made illegal and it still exists. Apart from that none of the dreadful US obesity and diabetes outlets exist. What a refreshing change from anywhere else on the planet (apart from North Korea). 

Right: An amusing statue outside the ferry terminal. A cox at the back but I couldn't quite work out how they propelled themselves.

Left: There are several ads around town to encourage you to join the Royal Bermuda Regiment. Bermuda has a long history of British military occupation with many famous old Regiments having been stationed here. Now they just have the Royal Bermuda Regiment which, I am sure, is a force to be reckoned with. Apparently they have a pipe band which, if nothing else, would probably strike fear into any invaders.

Right: The Cabinet Building, Bermuda's Senate. The 'Opening of Parliament' is held here involving the British Governor in full regalia, plumed hat and horse-drawn carriage etc. before the Parliament descends into normal long-winded and tedious debates. 

Open to the public on Wednesdays, when in session, if you are interested.

Out of curiosity I took a walk along Front Street to the Bermuda Underwater Exploration Institute (BUEI). It is quite a high-tech museum of things underwater (I don't mean the museum is underwater of course) but actually not that interesting, and very few visitors while I was there.

There is a simulated 'journey' in a capsule to the bottom of the ocean which attracted a few of us sparse visitors. We first had to wait for ages because the guy running it didn't turn up on time. Having sat ourselves down in a sort of cabin with bench seats it took us through some 3D action descending to the depths. It involved close encounters with a giant squid but, on the whole, despite some reasonable visuals, was a very disjointed trip and, frankly, rather silly and uninspiring.

There were various deep-sea things on display, including a vast collection of sea shells. Yawn (if you are not into that sort of thing). 

Left: A modern type of diving suit.

Right: An old fashioned type of diving suit.

Left: ...and a replica of the original Bathysphere.

Then on up the hill on the west side to Fort Hamilton (right). A moat ringed fortress built in the 1860s as a defence for the west end's Naval Dockyard.

There are several old cannons on display and underground chambers for accommodation, magazines and storerooms. 

Left: A large cannon, but I don't understand how it worked. If it ever did.

Right: A 'gun pit' which, if you can enlarge and read the sign, says 'Gunpit For Montcrieff. Disappearing Carriage'. Well, whatever was there has certainly disappeared. 

Left: ...and a few well tended gardens around the outsides.

OK, Fort Hamilton was not very inspiring but you get good views over the harbour.

I passed, as everywhere on this island, lots of churches of various strange denominations including a 'Seventh Day Adventist' shop. I popped in and asked "what exactly is a Seventh Day Adventist?". I got the same reaction as when I asked the Tourist Info lady about 'loitering'; vis a blank stare because they thought I was bonkers.

I then took a long walk up to the northern heights to see Government House (right), the seat of the resident British Governor. This grand house sits up on the high ground with  lovely views both north and south and has a large area of well tended gardens. I was told that these gardens are the largest area of uninhabited land on the island. 

It was here, after dinner, at midnight on 10th March 1973, that the then Governor, Sir Richard Sharples, was assassinated by a Black Power fanatic, along with his ADC, Capt Hugh Sayers, and his dog, a Great Dane called Horsa.

I eventually found my way to the front guard post and asked the guard (ex-Royal Bermuda Regiment) if there was any chance of going inside. He told me that the Governor and his ADC (Royal Bermuda Regiment) were away; they probably saw me coming. I chatted him up and passed admiring comments on his chestful of medals. He was charming but "no, I had to leave" and was not encouraged to wander around the grounds. So I did anyway. 

Left: The front door.

There are two decent tennis courts here and dozens of trees of various description planted by  visiting Royalty, Presidents and prominent politicians, all with plaques to commemorate the planting. You name 'em, they've planted it. (Duke of Edinburgh, President Carter, Harold MacMillan, John Major, Princess Anne etc. etc.) and this one (right) by Margaret Thatcher.

On my way back down to the town I passed, in the middle of nowhere, this establishment (left).

I had to call in. After ringing the bell 'for service' and some delay I was enthusiastically greeted by an old lady called Emelda, and her little dog (Mitzy), who were standing behind a counter surrounded by some fairly tawdry items of their trade. I suspect she gets very few visitors and was glad for the opportunity of a chat. She even invited me to stay for some food and a drink but, sadly, due to other pressing engagements, I had to decline.

There are many Poinciana trees like this around the place (right). Very colourful and several more exuberant than this one.

.....and a humorously named Jamaican food shop (left).

There was to be a 'street party' on Front Street that evening and I decided to attend. They had closed off the street to vehicles and many stalls were set up selling a variety of local goods. All very jolly and the local Bobbies were out in their hi-vis jackets. I must say they are a very jovial bunch.

Left: A Town Crier was on duty to advise and assist the passers-by. I didn't hear him doing much 'crying' but he was popular for photo opportunities. There was a US cruise ship docked nearby so no shortage of volunteers.

The main attraction that evening was a performance by Gombey dancers (right). Gombey dancing is a throw-back to African/Caribbean heritage and consists of a 'leader' who coordinates a whole gang of colourfully dressed and masked dancers with tall feathery hats to the sound of very loud drums. 

Left: The 'leader', I think.

Right: A 'Gombey huddle' where, perhaps. they decide on the next moves.














Left: ...and there were some solo performances by a few small Gombeys, to much applause.

A very photogenic ensemble and I took loads of pics. It went on for a long time.

Back by bus to St. George's. We (my host, who had been working that day, and I) decided to go for a drink at the St.George's Club which caters for a wealthy estate of houses on the north side of the town. We had been there before for a meal and had met the barman/manager. He is/was a very dour Scotsman who did not appear to exude much bonhomie. On arrival (not too late) we went to the bar, at which were standing a couple of people (his mates?), asked for a drink and were told "we're closed". "Why is that" we politely asked. "Cos there's nae any customers" he replied. "Well we are customers" we suggested. "Aye, weel we're still closed". I suspect he is not happy in his job and I don't think they will be making much of a profit. Hey ho! 

I haven't yet finished with Bermuda....one more to come from the western parishes.

CARNIVAL TIME - BERMUDA

17th - 18th June 2018

A colourful Carnival Queen

Many, if not most, private houses in St. George's display a 'BEWARE OF THE DOG' sign. The curious thing is I never saw, or heard, any of the dogs in question. I have a sneaking suspicion that they were bluffing! I contemplated calling in at one of these houses and announcing myself as the 'Local Official for Canine Affairs' and asking, politely, to see their Dog Licence and to check that their guard dog was in good health; perhaps including that the Town Council is conducting a survey of the dog population.  Needless to say I didn't get round to doing it...but it might have proved interesting.

There is an amusing and eclectic choice of bars and restaurants on the islands. One of which is over the long causeway south of St. David's Island (the island which is home to the airport) at Blue Hole Hill called The Swizzle Inn (left). This popular bar/restaurant is famous for serving Bermuda's national cocktail the 'Rum Swizzle'. It consists of dark rum & sickly stuff and looked quite revolting. I never tried it. The other favoured national drink is the 'Dark 'n Stormy'; another dark rum and ginger ale concoction which I did try and which is, indeed, revolting (according to me!). I stuck to beer, wine and rum &soda.

Inside (right), the pub is festooned with business/visiting cards and foreign bank notes. I added to the collection. The food there is quite good and 'relatively' inexpensive with very jolly staff. 

They have a Dress Code (left). I think I passed, although I'm not sure what 'baggies' or 'skullies' are and I made doubly sure that my underwear was well concealed. No mention of disgraceful  socks and shoes with shorts, so I got away with that. Bare feet?!

By the by and before I forget, another watering hole we used to frequent in St. George's, and which provided excellent food and wine, is 'Wahoo's Bistro' on Water Street, on the waterfront. The owner is a vastly amusing German (I think) called Kaiser Wolf (I think) and he is a great host. Delicious Weiner Schnitzels amongst other things on the menu. He kept us going with 'freebie' Jagermeisters. Worth a visit if you're passing by.

After the Swizzle Inn, I swozzled out and set off on my scooter to investigate a couple of the smart golf courses in the area. On the way I passed a sign pointing to the Crystal Caves, so I decided to investigate. Apparently, in 1907 a boy lost his football down a hole in the ground and decided to go down, by rope, to retrieve it. He made the discovery of the first of two limestone caverns which are now a popular tourist sites. Goodness knows how he managed to get out. It is, without lighting, pitch dark down there (as was demonstrated) and flooded.

There are some mighty impressive stalactites and stalagmites on display. You go down about 150 steps and the underground lake is, we were told, 55ft deep. I did both caverns. The second, called 'Fantasy,' which is, frankly, much the same as the first but the name encourages you to pay for the  extra visit!

Then on to one of two golf courses which are situated adjacent to one another. As mentioned previously, I think, there are 7 golf courses on this small island; 5 of which are of International Competition standard. The first I visited was Tucker's Point south of Castle Harbour. Difficult to get a photo of a golf course (too big) but rest assured these are beautifully manicured and challengingly contoured courses. The other being Mid-Ocean. Left: The elegant Clubhouse bar at Tucker's Point. 

I found out that they are rather expensive to play, and I know bugger-all about golf.


The little roads around this neck of the woods are maze-like, and the signage is, to say the least, confusing. Having popped in at the Rosewood Hotel ($5,000,000 per night or thereabouts) near the golf courses and overlooking this charming little cove (right), I saw a sign pointing towards the Rosewood Beach Club. I decided to investigate. After going round in circles for a while, and asking for directions, I eventually found it and it looked a very pleasant watering hole on the beach. I parked my scooter in the vehicle park.
I then saw that there was an entry kiosk manned/womanned by a hatchet faced female watch-dog where 'members' were being asked to show their membership cards.


So pointless, I thought, and merely a small challenge for us professional 'blaggers'. This place is on a beach for goodness sake. All I had to do was walk further away, go down to the beach and walk along it to the Club, bypassing the kiosk.

It has a pleasant bar and I ordered a beer. I was asked for my membership number to be billed. I said I didn't have one so the charming barman said "well, we don't take cash so just sign this receipt and we'll sort it out later". I told him I didn't have a pen, so he gave me a rather smart silver one. He served me the beer and told me I could keep the pen. I spent a bit of time in the bar watching another World Cup footer match then went back the way I had come. I still have the pen. I will return it when I go back to pay the bill.

Next day was Carnival Day which involved a parade of floats on St. David's island. This is a relatively new event on the island. Although the island is 'British' in history and tradition and still celebrates the Queen's birthday, as they did with a parade in Hamilton earlier, there is a growing appetite amongst the black population to become 'Caribbean' in outlook.

The parade consisted of a mile long convoy of floats blasting out deafening music which were accompanied by crowds of 'revellers' dressed up in colourful feathery outfits. They set off along the route cavorting and posing (for the likes of me). It was a hot day and, as I soon discovered, the few cafés and bars along it did not sell alcohol. It was banned for the day. No beer! A man could die for lack of it under these conditions. Many of the locals had, wisely (they knew the form), set up picnic tables and were presumably well supplied with suitable refreshment. I was not.

Left: There were some very elaborately costumed ladies on display.

Right: Even a few pets were appropriately kitted out.













Left: The girls were always willing to pose with interlopers.













..........and they came in all shapes and sizes. Difficult to tell which was front or back in some cases.


















Left: A rather serious and well dressed marcher.

They marched, danced and cavorted slowly one way from about 11.00am to 1.00pm and then went for a communal lunch on a piece of open ground near the airport. I took this opportunity to go and find a bar for some emergency refuelling.

I went back for the return trip. Same as before but in the opposite direction. They didn't seem any the worse for their lunchtime refreshments. Perhaps the music from the billion-megawatt speakers on the floats had become just a little louder.

Left: Another jolly group.

Right: More of the same. I got carried away and took far too many photos. It was a most colourful display and the participants had obviously gone to great lengths, effort, not to mention expense, to dress up for the occasion.

The whole affair was conducted with great efficiency, charm and happiness and absolutely no drunken or drug fuelled bad behaviour so favoured by some of our debauched Western imitations. Even the smiley local police entered into the spirit of the occasion and were very helpful; in my case when finding somewhere to park and where to go. All credit deserved. 

Left: I spoke to this guy. He is a bus driver in real life.

Interestingly, at Wahoo's later that evening, I commented to a local white Bermudian that there were very few white folk attending this carnival. The reply was that white Bermudians are not that keen on what they see as the 'Caribbeanisation' of Bermuda. Bermuda is not Caribbean! Not yet a problem maybe, but potentially the cause of some disquiet.

So that was the Carnival. A jolly day out despite lack of beer. Probably good for me.

I think I will be off on a trip to the capital, Hamilton, next.