I stayed in the lounge until just about the last minute waltzing over to the gate only to find a group of well-heeled Bermuda-bound passengers. Name-brand bags, only the highest quality clothes, and even more strangely for me; they all seemed to know each other.
It’s low season, so I’m among the locals. It’s like visiting a little village. But I get the feeling that it’s not only the money that has moved in, because there is that factor. But even natives of Bermuda, government officials, they also seem to live well. Of course I was listening to their conversations. One was a client of another, another a neighbour, another a friend.
From the air, the island’s beaches are azur-blue, and the buildings solid. On landing the village was greeted to a band playing island music and a sign, “Welcome to Bermuda”. On the drive to the hotel was through a lush, tropical vegetation. The buildings are solid structures, nothing new about Bermuda – these are old families who have long-established this island as the get-away that it is. Funny thing was that beautifully colored wild chickens graze the streets here. My guide Belvin told me that when the bird-flu epidemic was spreading in Asia, local officials decided to set cages to capture the fowl, and put them down. Local folk, however, would have nothing of it. They simply opened the doors to the cages, and let them go.