Even if you’ve been off the island for a while, it’s easy to fall back into the rhythm of Christmas in Bermuda because the pattern rarely changes.
The signs appear gradually: familiar carols returning to the radio, shop windows filling with displays, and that unmistakable scent of fresh pine. If you’re not already working through a list, these become cues to get organised: plan your wardrobe for evenings out, book the hair appointment, nails and facial, and above all else, make sure you’ve ordered the cassava, the turkey, the pudding and all the little things that make the holiday unmistakably Bermudian.
And then there’s the matter of decorating, another essential. Because ornaments break, lightbulbs burn out and pieces go missing, at some point in December almost everyone ends up trekking around Hamilton in search of replacements. Master’s, Gorham’s, ESC, Hamma Galleries, Gibbons Company and the Phoenix Stores are well-known stops for what can become an annual hunt.
But no matter where you stand on your to-do list, it’s impossible not to be swept up in the spirit of the season. Before long, you’ll find yourself standing in a long line outside a grocery store or garden centre waiting for a tree while mentally calculating who you’ve bought gifts for and what you still need to track down.
Our Christmas homes
The holiday pop-up markets begin to stir in November but it’s the National Trust’s Annual Christmas Walkabout that truly marks the start of the countdown to Santa’s big sleigh ride. The Old Town transforms on the first Friday of December each year. Historic homes open their doors, musicians set up in the Square, and the streets glow under strings of lights. For many families, making the trip east is a tradition — an occasion to catch up with friends, sample treats and take in the architecture. The homes themselves do half the storytelling: cedar beams, polished floors and Christmas decorations arranged just so, with people drifting through the rooms, eggnog in hand.
Long before scheduled festivities, it was customary to take an evening drive through neighbourhoods to admire houses decked out with colourful or white lights.
Today, that tradition continues. Some families coordinate their displays down to the smallest detail, others embrace a more spontaneous “the more, the better” approach.
Inside the homes, the tradition runs just as deep. Families pull out boxes of decorations stored away all year — handmade ornaments from school days, strings of lights that have survived more than a few seasons, and the tree-topper that’s been passed down for generations. Children get involved too, hanging their own creations and deciding where everything should go, turning the whole process into an event in its own right.
The season also gives Hamilton a makeover: palm trees are wrapped in twinkling fairy lights, and storefronts compete to outdo one another with elaborate displays. With all that in mind, it’s easy to see why Christmas in Bermuda is less about checking off endless shopping lists and more about preparing homes for visitors — both the expected and the spontaneous. December brings a steady flow of friends dropping in for a quick drink, relatives arriving unannounced, and neighbours stopping by with treats or small gifts. The house, in many ways, becomes the centre of the season.
Our Christmas kitchens
Another important gathering happens in the kitchen ahead of Christmas Day. Counters fill with ingredients, pans, and spice jars as people get to work making cassava pie, fruit and plain cake. Every family has its own fiercely defended method for preparing cassava: whether to use chicken, pork or both; which spices are essential; how sweet is too sweet; and whether the top should be smooth or textured. Preparing it is an hours-long process that ties generations together.
Sometimes the old recipe cards come out — the ones creased and stained from decades of use. Sometimes parents guide children through the same steps their parents once taught them, passing on the kind of knowledge that lives in memory more than measurement. It’s all served on Christmas Day, which itself follows a rhythm that feels uniquely Bermudian. Once kids have opened presents from Santa, many families trek to Elbow Beach where hundreds of people gather in Santa hats and sunglasses – some in swimsuits – with champagne flutes in hand.
Mid-afternoon it’s time for Christmas dinner. Kitchens fill with the familiar scents of peas and rice, sweet potato, macaroni and cheese, turkey, ham and stuffing. Cassava pie takes pride of place beside everything else. Families settle in for the big meal, often followed by a gift exchange.
Our Christmas sounds
Live music threads its way through the entire season. School choirs rehearse for weeks, church choirs prepare special services, musicians of every kind take the stage at holiday markets and concerts, and the Gombeys seemingly gather the entire island around them on December 26.
At home, the soundtrack is just as familiar — “Silent Night,” “White Christmas,” and more modern favourites like “Santa Tell Me” and “Fairytale of New York” play through Apple Music, Spotify and even the occasional record player.
It’s also a day for another well-loved tradition: driving around the island to visit family and friends you might see only on this occasion every year. People hop from one house to another, welcomed everywhere with food, drinks, and another round of conversation.
In the end, Christmas in Bermuda is rooted in the same touchstones every year: the Walkabout in the Old Town, the music that fills every corner, the cassava made from recipes older than most of the cooks using them, and the steady run of visits that carry on through Boxing Day – small rituals that make the season recognisably Bermudian both across the island and in your own home.
