Wednesday 19th May (Lini’s Journal)
Brindabella's Web Diary
Simon Williams
Sun 23 May 2010 13:03
mornings I wake up and forget where we are; rarely could I tell you
what day of the week it is. Winter in the Caribbean has felt like
summer and now we wake with a slight chill on our cheeks it feels like
autumn has arrived.
The ARC boats left today and very selfishly I was pleased that
‘Festina Lente’ didn’t. The weather wasn’t looking good anyway, it
seemed a shame for them to leave without seeing all the island and
Lynda and Phillip are such good company. We called across to them and
asked if they wanted to come out to play.
We bought one day travel passes for the buses and ferries which at
$12 had to be the only reasonably priced item on the island. A retired
policeman leant up against the bus stop started chatting and told us
the number one bus to Hamilton along the south coast was a must. We
couldn’t quite make out the Bermudian accent with hints of American,
Caribbean and sometimes a touch of Scottish we thought. We sat on the
bench seat while he told us his life story and apart from a lack of
chocolates we felt like Forest Gump as buses and people came and went
and still we waited patiently for the number one. He greeted most
people that passed us by name and said he would have booked the
topless man that passed; $50 for inappropriate dress. After a
considerable time it occurred to me that he could have been a very
lonely old man and there might not actually be a number one bus at
all. With that our pink bus arrived and our outing began.
Bermuda was obviously very affluent judging by the properties and
the levels of maintenance everywhere. Si had read the average house
price on the island is $1.8M. What we saw of the coastline looked
stunning but much was hidden by trees. As we approached the capital,
Hamilton looked very picturesque apart from an inevitable cruise ship
blocking much of the scenery. A new building and massive new hotel
along the waterfront were built in keeping with the general style and
painted in pretty pastels. Just along from the bus stop was the ferry
terminal which had the same feel as Circular Quay in Sydney. Bermuda
is twenty one miles long, one mile wide and is made up of a horseshoe
of islands linked by roads, so ferries and boats are sensible modes of
transport. Around the corner was the lovely Royal Bermuda Yacht Club
where we had a jolly nice lunch with our jolly nice friends with a
jolly nice view. It was then a swift sprint round to the ferry and off
to the dockland.
The tiny islands dotted around the mainland were gently sprinkled
with houses to die for and anchored all around were an assortment of
sailing boats. It was great that Phillip and Lynda had lived in Sydney
for a while as they were able to make comparisons between the race
boats with Si. The approaching dockland was enormous and looked
wonderful built in soft limestone which can be cut with a saw. We
entered the National Museum, now housed in eight buildings of the old
fort and naval dockland and is set in sixteen acres of land. It housed
an eclectic mix of exhibits relating to the island, the race boats
being of particular interest together with a magnificent clock with
umpteen wheels and cogs working the face and bells above the entrance
door outside. There was time for a brief look at the dolphins before
our ferry which were lovely to see but awful to think about their
captivity. I’ve always thought it would be amazing to swim with them
but not while trapped in a confined space where they had no choice.
Twenty minutes on the ferry took us back to Hamilton where there
was only really time for a quick coffee before our next ferry back to
St. George. Sightseeing in the capital would have to wait for another
day. We popped into the supermarket briefly back in St. George and
after a quick supper decided we were way too tired for our planned
film and we had an early night instead.