Happy Birthday America

Just because I live in Bermuda doesn't mean I didn't get to celebrate the Fourth of July. After all, I am a proud American—a sun-kissed, lucky-as-clover American, but an American nonetheless. Unlike my first year on the island when I celebrated with my wife on Church Bay or last year, when apparently I wore the exact same shirt to toast the U-S-of-A's independence, I spent July 4th sipping wine and watching east end fireworks from the oceanfront balcony of my room at the Pink Beach Club, a ritzy cottage colony in Tucker's Town (yes, that was my actual view). I was there on assignment, so instead of scooping my own story I'll just tell you this: If you're looking for a high-end hotel that guarantees seclusion, solitude and a killer water view, you should seriously consider the Pink Beach Club, featuring 94 spacious rooms and suites on Bermuda's stunning south shore. I'll have more about the hotel in the near the future, but for now, know that this American had one heckuva time in Britain's oldest colony.