No one seems very sorry for me when I try to explain that Mom and I were stranded in Bermuda for 5 days longer than intended. As Hurricane Irene wreaked havoc back around NYC, we managed as best we could. Bermuda was not a planned-months-in-advance trip. I hesitate to call it a vacation. The trip to Bermuda was very last minute, highly spontaneous and a labor of love and friendship.
“It looks like Operation Bermuda is all set”, I said to John and my Mom. We are all feeling rather proud of ourselves as we can't believe we are actually going to pull off this surprise...and that we have managed to keep it a surprise. And the recipient of our “surprise” has no idea he is going to be surprised. The very nature of the word “surprise” will be accomplished. No communication leaks...no e-mails accidentally read....no conversations overheard that would give (lets change his name for the fun of it) Fred any idea that for his birthday and because he is at a point in his life right now where he needs a reminder of how truly loved and blessed he is, we as in Mom and I will be surprising him during his visit to Bermuda.
Bermuda just seems to hold lots of sentimental value for me. You'll read the Bermuda chapter in my book about exactly why an island that is only one mile wide and 21 miles long holds so many wonderful memories for me that stem back to when I was 11 years old...but I digress...and forgive my shameless self-promotion of hopefully my soon-to-be best selling novel....back to Operation Bermuda.
This trip becomes an opportunity on a grand scale. Mom "gave" me Bermuda decades ago so now here is a chance to return the favor. I shall "give" Mom a trip to Bermuda for her birthday plus we can celebrate the gift of friendship with "Fred" and John. It's a win-win of epic proportions.
We have the perfect plan. Our plane shall land at a decent time of the evening 8:30p.m....we shall proceed directly to Fred and John's hotel, the Fairmont Hamilton. John will ensure that Fred is enjoying a nightcap in the hotel lounge...and Mom and I shall sneak up from behind him and whisper “Surprise”. He will be overwhelmed with emotion; cry and laugh at the same time. And we will pat ourselves on our backs and be ever so proud of the fact that we have made this surprise moment in our friendships a reality.
Ah, reality.
Back in NYC, the day of our departure, I'm at Mom's apartment foraging for some lunch as I am prone to do around meal times. We are all set to have a light lunch and then make our way to JFK airport.
“Mom.....oh...Mommmmmmm, the building is moving”, I say to her whilst for a split-second I try to figure out if I am more tired than even I could have imagined.
“No. it's not.” Mom tells me. I dislike arguing with her but this time I have to beg to differ.
“Mom...take a look at anything...the bag hanging on that knob there...the utensils hanging off of hooks in the kitchen”, I say as I start to grab my keys.
“Oh, yeah, you're right. The building is moving”.
“I think it's an earthquake. Grab your bag and keys and lets go”, I say as I stop to consider where we should go. Stand under the doorway from what I remember ….and in the moments that it takes to have this conversation, the shaking and rolling stops.
Out at JFK airport, there is a ground stop now for all flights as structures and runways are checked ...and that leads to flight delays. So our well-timed “Operation Bermuda” surprise becomes an ill-timed, oh-no-what's our Plan B event.
We contact John who is already in Bermuda and tell him now we are slated to land around 11:30p.m.... at the hotel around midnight. He tells me, “Don't worry I have an idea that will get Fred down to the lounge.” We leave it in John's trusty hands....
We arrive at the hotel where everyone from the taxi driver to the hotel doorman is in on our plan. Luggage needs to be hidden. No trumpets blaring upon our arrival...no red carpet rolled out (okay, that doesn't usually happen anyway but I am thinking it should :)
“Mom, I see Fred “, I say as we slouch down in our chairs at the hotel's lounge. We don't want him to see us until...
“Surprise!” We say in unison as Fred is truly stunned and starts to cry and laugh as predicted and when he can finally speak, he says....
“Wow. This is a better surprise than meeting Nancy Wilson could ever be”.
So that's how John managed to get Fred out of bed at midnight....told him that Nancy Wilson was in town and was getting a little group of friends together for a nightcap down in the lounge. Fred loves Nancy Wilson so he donned his best meeting-a-star attire and made his way downstairs. I will be forever grateful that he was not disappointed to find that in lieu of the singer he adores, it was just Mom and I.....the Estelles.
Sometimes travel is to see a new place, experience a new culture....but sometimes travel is not about the destination at all but the magic that can happen once everyone is, despite Mother Nature's attempts to the contrary, exactly where they need to be in a given moment in time.
I could at this point proceed to tell you all the things we did and all the sights there were to see....but any good travel guide book can help you with that. So just know that from the dockyards at St. George's to the reception we attended at Camden House, the official residence of Bermuda's premier...we did lots.
But...being that for Mom and I...Bermuda seems to be a place for “firsts”. It was my first place to visit by airplane when I was 11; my first place that I ever had to earn money for in order to buy a plane ticket for my 11 year old self (like I said...that story is in my book), it would only stand to reason that it would become a first for....
Snorkeling.
This trip to Bermuda was multi-faceted. A labor of love for Fred as you know...and an early birthday gift for my Mom's 68th birthday. John and Fred, being the avid snorkelers that they are decided this would be the perfect opportunity to teach Mom how to snorkel. Oh, sure there had been some half-baked attempts years ago...I think with a child's size snorkeling mask...that did not result in a pleasant experience for Mom and left her, probably, with a bad taste of salt water in her mouth. I thought this was a great idea but knew she would not be inclined to learn this skill from me. ….lets be real, she would never allow ME to teach her anything besides she says I have no patience...and I let her be right about that. But with John and Fred as teachers? This would be a golden opportunity.
We start out with lessons at “our” pool ….and that goes very well. Mom takes to this new hobby like a fish to water :)
And then we head out to the sea.....and lets put it this way, we now have to go buy snorkeling equipment because my Mom, at the tender age of 68 has a new “first” and a new hobby...snorkeling.
We snorkel at Spanish Point. Everyone in Bermuda knows about Spanish point. No big deal. It's on the tourist maps....but then the following day, we go snorkeling at our secret spot. A place where even a local that stumbled upon us whilst we were there said, “How do you even know about this spot? Most locals do not even know about it...”
A lady never tells. I'm pleading the fifth. All those cliches come into play. I am not telling where it is but I will tell you this much.
It is heaven on earth.
We spent hours snorkeling in our own personal grotto....inlet....slice of oceanic nirvana. We watched thousands of fish play hide and seek with us and amongst the coral reefs....in all colors of the rainbow. I got one hell of a sunburn on my back and the back of my legs but if I had it to do all over again...I would....but I would make sure I slathered myself in waterproof 50+ sunblock.
“I think I am going to go back toward the shore”, my Mom says after about 2 hours of splashing and frolicking with the fish. “I'm okay but I do not want to tire myself out,” so back to shallow water she goes.
John and I stay amongst the reefs for a little while longer as I am endlessly fascinated by the hide and seek game I am engaged in with 3 angel fish. Not wanting to leave but realizing it's time, John and I make our way back to shore.
“Look, John. Estelle. Come here.”, Mom shouts and gestures. She is in the water up to her shoulders but standing...on a rock...and there are hundreds of fish around her. “You see those fish...” We dip our masked faces into the water and say “Yes. We see them”. You can't miss them; there are hundreds plus three very distinctive blue and yellow angel fish.
“They followed me from where we were all snorkeling. They have been keeping me company until you got back”, Mom declares.
I tend to think she is correct. They swam alongside her and stayed with her until we joined her. Those fish made sure she made it to shore safely. I am sure.
I believe it. Bermuda is like that. A place that harbors sentimental memories, a few “firsts”, secret snorkeling spots, and where even the fishies are the best Mommy-sitters.
...and now we can all say "We will always have Bermuda"....fish Mommy-sitters and all.
“It looks like Operation Bermuda is all set”, I said to John and my Mom. We are all feeling rather proud of ourselves as we can't believe we are actually going to pull off this surprise...and that we have managed to keep it a surprise. And the recipient of our “surprise” has no idea he is going to be surprised. The very nature of the word “surprise” will be accomplished. No communication leaks...no e-mails accidentally read....no conversations overheard that would give (lets change his name for the fun of it) Fred any idea that for his birthday and because he is at a point in his life right now where he needs a reminder of how truly loved and blessed he is, we as in Mom and I will be surprising him during his visit to Bermuda.
Bermuda just seems to hold lots of sentimental value for me. You'll read the Bermuda chapter in my book about exactly why an island that is only one mile wide and 21 miles long holds so many wonderful memories for me that stem back to when I was 11 years old...but I digress...and forgive my shameless self-promotion of hopefully my soon-to-be best selling novel....back to Operation Bermuda.
This trip becomes an opportunity on a grand scale. Mom "gave" me Bermuda decades ago so now here is a chance to return the favor. I shall "give" Mom a trip to Bermuda for her birthday plus we can celebrate the gift of friendship with "Fred" and John. It's a win-win of epic proportions.
We have the perfect plan. Our plane shall land at a decent time of the evening 8:30p.m....we shall proceed directly to Fred and John's hotel, the Fairmont Hamilton. John will ensure that Fred is enjoying a nightcap in the hotel lounge...and Mom and I shall sneak up from behind him and whisper “Surprise”. He will be overwhelmed with emotion; cry and laugh at the same time. And we will pat ourselves on our backs and be ever so proud of the fact that we have made this surprise moment in our friendships a reality.
Ah, reality.
Back in NYC, the day of our departure, I'm at Mom's apartment foraging for some lunch as I am prone to do around meal times. We are all set to have a light lunch and then make our way to JFK airport.
“Mom.....oh...Mommmmmmm, the building is moving”, I say to her whilst for a split-second I try to figure out if I am more tired than even I could have imagined.
“No. it's not.” Mom tells me. I dislike arguing with her but this time I have to beg to differ.
“Mom...take a look at anything...the bag hanging on that knob there...the utensils hanging off of hooks in the kitchen”, I say as I start to grab my keys.
“Oh, yeah, you're right. The building is moving”.
“I think it's an earthquake. Grab your bag and keys and lets go”, I say as I stop to consider where we should go. Stand under the doorway from what I remember ….and in the moments that it takes to have this conversation, the shaking and rolling stops.
Out at JFK airport, there is a ground stop now for all flights as structures and runways are checked ...and that leads to flight delays. So our well-timed “Operation Bermuda” surprise becomes an ill-timed, oh-no-what's our Plan B event.
We contact John who is already in Bermuda and tell him now we are slated to land around 11:30p.m.... at the hotel around midnight. He tells me, “Don't worry I have an idea that will get Fred down to the lounge.” We leave it in John's trusty hands....
We arrive at the hotel where everyone from the taxi driver to the hotel doorman is in on our plan. Luggage needs to be hidden. No trumpets blaring upon our arrival...no red carpet rolled out (okay, that doesn't usually happen anyway but I am thinking it should :)
“Mom, I see Fred “, I say as we slouch down in our chairs at the hotel's lounge. We don't want him to see us until...
“Surprise!” We say in unison as Fred is truly stunned and starts to cry and laugh as predicted and when he can finally speak, he says....
“Wow. This is a better surprise than meeting Nancy Wilson could ever be”.
So that's how John managed to get Fred out of bed at midnight....told him that Nancy Wilson was in town and was getting a little group of friends together for a nightcap down in the lounge. Fred loves Nancy Wilson so he donned his best meeting-a-star attire and made his way downstairs. I will be forever grateful that he was not disappointed to find that in lieu of the singer he adores, it was just Mom and I.....the Estelles.
Sometimes travel is to see a new place, experience a new culture....but sometimes travel is not about the destination at all but the magic that can happen once everyone is, despite Mother Nature's attempts to the contrary, exactly where they need to be in a given moment in time.
I could at this point proceed to tell you all the things we did and all the sights there were to see....but any good travel guide book can help you with that. So just know that from the dockyards at St. George's to the reception we attended at Camden House, the official residence of Bermuda's premier...we did lots.
But...being that for Mom and I...Bermuda seems to be a place for “firsts”. It was my first place to visit by airplane when I was 11; my first place that I ever had to earn money for in order to buy a plane ticket for my 11 year old self (like I said...that story is in my book), it would only stand to reason that it would become a first for....
Snorkeling.
This trip to Bermuda was multi-faceted. A labor of love for Fred as you know...and an early birthday gift for my Mom's 68th birthday. John and Fred, being the avid snorkelers that they are decided this would be the perfect opportunity to teach Mom how to snorkel. Oh, sure there had been some half-baked attempts years ago...I think with a child's size snorkeling mask...that did not result in a pleasant experience for Mom and left her, probably, with a bad taste of salt water in her mouth. I thought this was a great idea but knew she would not be inclined to learn this skill from me. ….lets be real, she would never allow ME to teach her anything besides she says I have no patience...and I let her be right about that. But with John and Fred as teachers? This would be a golden opportunity.
We start out with lessons at “our” pool ….and that goes very well. Mom takes to this new hobby like a fish to water :)
And then we head out to the sea.....and lets put it this way, we now have to go buy snorkeling equipment because my Mom, at the tender age of 68 has a new “first” and a new hobby...snorkeling.
We snorkel at Spanish Point. Everyone in Bermuda knows about Spanish point. No big deal. It's on the tourist maps....but then the following day, we go snorkeling at our secret spot. A place where even a local that stumbled upon us whilst we were there said, “How do you even know about this spot? Most locals do not even know about it...”
A lady never tells. I'm pleading the fifth. All those cliches come into play. I am not telling where it is but I will tell you this much.
It is heaven on earth.
We spent hours snorkeling in our own personal grotto....inlet....slice of oceanic nirvana. We watched thousands of fish play hide and seek with us and amongst the coral reefs....in all colors of the rainbow. I got one hell of a sunburn on my back and the back of my legs but if I had it to do all over again...I would....but I would make sure I slathered myself in waterproof 50+ sunblock.
“I think I am going to go back toward the shore”, my Mom says after about 2 hours of splashing and frolicking with the fish. “I'm okay but I do not want to tire myself out,” so back to shallow water she goes.
John and I stay amongst the reefs for a little while longer as I am endlessly fascinated by the hide and seek game I am engaged in with 3 angel fish. Not wanting to leave but realizing it's time, John and I make our way back to shore.
“Look, John. Estelle. Come here.”, Mom shouts and gestures. She is in the water up to her shoulders but standing...on a rock...and there are hundreds of fish around her. “You see those fish...” We dip our masked faces into the water and say “Yes. We see them”. You can't miss them; there are hundreds plus three very distinctive blue and yellow angel fish.
“They followed me from where we were all snorkeling. They have been keeping me company until you got back”, Mom declares.
I tend to think she is correct. They swam alongside her and stayed with her until we joined her. Those fish made sure she made it to shore safely. I am sure.
I believe it. Bermuda is like that. A place that harbors sentimental memories, a few “firsts”, secret snorkeling spots, and where even the fishies are the best Mommy-sitters.
...and now we can all say "We will always have Bermuda"....fish Mommy-sitters and all.
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