Tuesday, June 23, 2009
There are certain truths that one must come to accept when living on a tropical island. Like how table salt stops shaking smoothly from its container because of the high humidity. Or how those trails of ants keep coming back no matter how much bug spray you use. Or how the local milk is sold undated. Both good and bad, I’m calling them the Facts of Life from here on in. Here’s one: I was in St. George’s the other day, doing some reporting at Fort St. Catherine (see above) when suddenly it started pouring rain. I had anticipated a drop or two but a raging downpour I was not expecting. For those not familiar with Bermuda, St. George’s is about as far east as you can go—at least a good 45 minutes by scooter to my home in Southampton on the south shore. Faced with impending dinner plans the only choice was to hit the road and motor on. In the pouring rain. On a scooter. Thank goodness I’d just bought a new helmet with a clear face visor because every time I lifted the thing up it was as if tiny knives were stabbing my cheeks. By the time I’d reached Hamilton I was soaked—denim jeans sopping, leather flip-flops drenched, and my shirt somewhat spared by my rain jacket but still damp nonetheless. I was a mess. Rather than cancel my dinner plans however, I did what many before me have done when faced with the same rainy situation here in Bermuda: I bought new clothes at Gibbons, a department store in town that luckily stays open until 7:30pm. The helpful saleswomen got their giggles in for sure, but who could blame them? If I stood in one spot for more than thirty seconds I’d leave a small pool of water behind. One pair of Levi’s and a snazzy new shirt later I was all set, just in time for dinner and a thankfully sunny ride to the restaurant. It all turned out for the best, but of course that’s another fact of Bermuda life: It always does.