This summer I had the pleasure of visiting that tiny, beautiful tax haven in the middle of the Atlantic: Bermuda.
A good friend of my fiancee was getting married and I had always been fascinated with remote islands (see: sailing around Asia). Bermuda was always this waypoint for early sailors from Europe headed to the New World. Unsurprisingly, it was founded when one of those ships crashed into one of its numerous outer reefs and the survivors created a colony.
The island is small and continues to have a strong British influence, despite its proximity to the US (only a 2 hr flight from New York). Only locals are allowed to drive cars (i.e. no Hertz rental desk at the Bermuda airport) and they are only allowed one car per household, unless it’s a taxi. For this reason, there are a lot of taxis. The streets are extremely narrow and single-lane. If you want to get around on your own, you rent a moto scooter.
Downtown is split between tourist shops and billion-dollar reinsurance companies. We took a little self-guided walking tour of both.
My fiancee was mostly excited that there were street chickens. She loves street chickens. I think it’s simply their association with tropical countries because she definitely doesn’t like the chickens in our neighbor’s backyard in San Francisco.
The outer reefs mean, unfortunately, that surfing is limited. However, when the right swell comes in, it can get exciting. Luckily, a little swell came in and I was able to get a little bit in, taking off from an exposed coral bombie.
All-in-all, a fascinating little country.