Living on an island is… interesting. Think stunning ocean views, rich heritage, and a slower, more relaxed pace of life. Now add the whole being on an island thing, and suddenly “interesting” starts doing a lot of heavy lifting.
We don’t exactly manufacture much here, and we grow even less. Food security is always a concern, and shopping for pretty much anything can sometimes feel like a futile exercise. Clothes, furniture, electronics, even basic sundries – your choices are pretty much limited to what a small handful of buyers think will sell quickly to as many people as possible. Unique? Sure, there’s a chance you can find a gem. Distinctive? Yeah, no.
Like most people, I express myself through what I wear, what I own, and what I’m into. But try finding, say, Lego on this island? Slim pickings would be too generous of a phrase. And when you do find that one outfit that you like, just know there’s a high probability someone else also bought it and will unfortunately be wearing it to same event. Your “signature look” quickly becomes a group effort. An accidental flash mob minus the dancing.
To this end, one of our national pastimes is leaving the island … to go shopping. I know, I know, it sounds so very glamorous, but really, it’s just us searching for a chance to express ourselves even slightly differently to how every other Bermudian is expressing themselves. It’s not that we are overly materialistic. It’s just that there’s a whole wide world of options out there and we don’t get many of them here.
Then there’s the food scene. There are only so many restaurants and even fewer types of cuisine. If you have adventurous taste buds, it’s doubtful that they often get a chance to stretch themselves. Don’t get me wrong, we have some amazingly talented chefs, and what they do, they do exceptionally well. *Chef’s kiss* Want a perfectly cooked steak, we got you. Fresh sushi, yup, that’s a given. But something a little bit further afield, like say, Turkish food, well that would be another check in the when I go on vacation checklist.
We’re not called an island for nothing. But things like amusement parks? Not a single one. Try entertaining your kids on a random Saturday without eventually resorting to snacks, negotiations and the occasional threat.
Nightlife can be a bit sparse too. If you like shaking your tail feather to anything beyond reggae and soca, your options are few and far between. Now that I think about it, do we even have nightclubs anymore? Bars, oh yes. Great ones. Live local music? Absolutely, and we punch well above our weight here. But rocking out to Bon Jovi all night? Nope. And that is a damn shame for my hair band heart. (And yes, that means I prefer 90s rock, who doesn’t?)
Island life is a many-splendoured thing and I genuinely love that I grew up in such a beautiful place. I appreciate all the advantages and the countless things that make living here amazing. But just like I can love the hugs that my kids give me while fully accepting that they are also small emotional volcanoes waiting to erupt at any moment, I can equally love beach weather nine months of the year and still find myself browsing the internet flights for a weekend in New York.
Mind you, after a couple of days off island you realize the lure of home is stronger. You miss the random ‘Good mornings’, the familiar nods, the way people back home know your name, your family, your business (sometimes a little too well, but still).
Bermuda may be another world … but it’s the world that I can truly call mine.
