How to live like a local in Bermuda

My husband and I watched the final flight take off in March, standing on our porch, gazing across the turquoise harbour toward the Bermuda airport.

The sound of planes arriving and departing in the distance barely used to register. The jet streams crossing the sky often felt like nothing more than the hands of a clock: 8:40 a.m., American Airlines; 2:30 p.m., Air Canada; 6:15 p.m., British Airways. Like the chirps of the dime-sized whistling frogs that blend into our evening chorus, the ubiquity of the planes rendered them nearly invisible.

Yet the silence that followed the dull roar of the last plane soaring out of sight was deafening. “Well, that’s that. It’s just us now,” I declared, somewhat melodramatically. But it wasn’t really an overstatement: We live on a 55-square-kilometre island, a thousand kilometres from our nearest neighbour; planes are our connection to the rest of the world. Bermudians joke about being 60,000 alcoholics clinging to a rock, but as hell broke loose around the world and we segued into isolation, this was about to become at least partly true. Bermuda had closed her borders.

I shut my bookstore in the 400-year old town of St. George, a UNESCO World Heritage Site that boasts some of the oldest buildings in the New World, and placed a sign in the window that said “Yay! You can still order online!” The exclamation points were a valiant attempt to hide that I’d been crying.

Thankfully, we still had oodles of rum.

I scrolled through my calendar to erase all of the activities my tour and events company had booked for the summer, sighing at my phone’s follow up questions about whether I wanted to remove only this event — or all future events.

Lead morning walking tour of St. George’s for Norwegian Cruise Line. Delete.

Host Nomadness Travel Tribe in Bermuda. Delete.

Emcee Bermuda Day Parade. Weep a bit more. Then delete.

And then I wrote a plan:

Be kind to myself. Cry if I need to. Give extra cuddles to my dog. Help where I can. Try my best to plan for the future. Take long walks around the coast, climbing up Alexandra Battery fort to watch container ships head out through the channel. Sink my feet into the sand. Cook. Burn some sage and Bermuda cedar. Practice gratitude.

My neighbours posited that we must face the oncoming challenges like we would a hurricane — by looking out for each other. With friends, I raised money for grocery vouchers, volunteered at the food bank and arranged to distribute bags of vegetables donated by farmers. I spoke on tourism roundtables, as we discussed how we would collectively care for those who’d lost their income.

When the island plunged into full lockdown for the month of April, residents were only allowed one hour of outdoor time a day. I spent mine wandering through the historic cemetery in St. George’s that marked the tenants who had ‘died of the fever’ over the centuries to remind myself that we had faced plagues before.

I cooked a dozen Spanish omelettes, formed a writing group, recorded history lessons about slavery for a middle school and hula hooped. I ran out of yeast, soil and paper towels, achieving consensus with the rest of the world that baking bread, planting kale and wiping down counters was the key to survival. I spent hours on the porch where I’d seen the last flight depart, spying on the luxury yachts that came rolling into the harbour and watching as the uber wealthy rode out the pandemic on hydrofoil surfboards.

Then, in early May, the lockdown ended and we ventured out in the eye of the storm to survey the damage and figure out the way forward. The airport reopened in July and the sounds of planes landing once again became commonplace. We settled into a glossary of new terms like “pre-departure test,” “mobile quarantine” and “travel authorization form.” Digital nomads were invited to set up their laptops in Airbnbs for up to a year after applying for the newly-minted Work from Bermuda program.

New businesses and experiences blossomed as innovators across the island figured out how to engage with travelers and residents in this new paradigm. Event planners, chefs and creatives reimagined historic spaces to accommodate intimate gatherings. The Collective hosted brunch at the Bermuda Transport Museum and Just Dreams held a White Party at Fort St. Catherine.

The Bermuda Society of Arts and National Museum of Bermuda tapped into the desire for cultural activities and began offering virtual lectures and exhibit tours. Some of our most beloved cultural events — Bermuda Day, Carnival and Cup Match — went online and began planning for vibrant returns in 2021.

And we continue to carve out moments of joy, of gratitude, of downright glee that we are living out this pandemic in paradise, stuck on an island that, though forged from rock, is truly not a hard place.

While I’m walking along the cliffs that border my home, I often think about a conversation I had while hosting a tour for a well-known movie writer and director who was looking to film on the island. His latest script needed a location that didn’t appear quite real — viewers needed to be unsure if the main character was awake or dreaming — and he thought Bermuda fit that description perfectly.

As my small island home navigates this new landscape with resilience, creating space for visitors to join us here in finding solace and peace, I can’t help but think how right he is.

Considering working from Bermuda?

Here are a few socially distanced — yet culturally connected activities — that fit within many of the COVID-19 guidelines on the island

Where to relax

There is beauty in the act of gathering around a fire on the beach. Bermuda Bonfires will plan a crackling evening you’ll not soon forget; guitar singalongs optional.

Where to stay

Expected to open in spring 2021, the 30 brand-new beachfront residences at the St. Regis Bermuda offer access to the hotel’s luxury amenities (including the hotelier’s renowned personalized butler service) while giving you a plush and modern home to get work done (or not).

Where to explore

There are many places to hike, horseback ride and cycle across the island, but none more popular than the Railway Trail, a former train route that operated in the 1930s and ’40s and is now closed to vehicles. Look out for wild cherries and loquats along the way.

Where to shop

Buy incredible locally made and inspired products to keep for yourself or send to friends and family in order to inspire jealousy that you are staying along the shores of paradise. Bermuda Born bags, Umami Bermuda spices and Salt Spray Soap Co. skincare products are always on my list.