The Rum Swizzle Stalker

When I woke up today, it was rainy. Folks at Salt Kettle were just planning to 'take it easy'. What a nice break, I thought, from gorgeous perfect island days (ha ha!). Having taken my disgusting medicine, I was so excited to feel spontaneously healed; what a relief!

I knew that I was behind on my blog. Perhaps I should take a day off of writing? But then I thought of my followers...As it turned out, there are no uneventful days in Bermuda, so here we go...

As is my norm, I tend to sit at the dining room table to write my blog, in lounge wear and my flip flops. As I write, I kick off my shoes, for some reason- perhaps just because I can. I have become a barefoot writer.

If I am lucky, I drink coffee from a well-worn mug by artist Barbara Finsness; alternatively, I pick the bone china mug featuring Smith's Department Store- a place that no longer exists, but lives in my memory.

After posting a blog, it was quite late- about 3pm. Having forgotten to eat breakfast, I was very hungry. I rushed off to The Paraquet, presuming that it is the closest restaurant to Salt Kettle (?!). It certainly fits the budget. The food is reliably good, and the retro ambience is so welcoming. 

At this point, I must tell you a little back story...

Back in 2015, my dear friend, Jeannie, and I came to Bermuda for a long weekend together. Jeannie noticed that I was very friendly to everyone, and had no qualms about engaging in conversation with cab drivers- after all, this is how I tend to roll. 

One night, we were going out to dinner in town. Our cab driver was especially talkative and solicitous. When we exited the cab at our restaurant, he offered to give us a 'private' island tour, "complete with a cooler of rum swizzles"... He handed me his card; on it, was a funny name. 

At this point, Jeannie's radar alarmed, full speed. She scolded me for being "too friendly" to strangers. I said, "But this is Bermuda..." She didn't care. She told me to knock it off!

The next day, we went to the beach. We were staying at Greenbank Cottages (also on Salt Kettle Road), and thus needed a cab back. Upon our return, as we exited our cab, we saw a man comfortably seated on the terrace- awaiting our arrival. UH OH.

We looked at each other, and said in a hushed, but frantic tone, "OH NO! It's HIM!!!!" He said, "Hey Ladies!!" We ran to our cottage, and locked the door! I got a second scolding from Jeannie. She had been right, as she very often is! 

The next day, we told our host. She immediately called the taxi company, and even called the police to report said cab driver, for loitering on her property. Jeannie had me delete the cab company's phone number from my phone, and replace it with the other Bermuda cab service. We prayed not to run into the cabbie-with-the-funny-name again. We did not.

Fast forward to today...

After eating my late meal at the Paraquet, I decided to get a few groceries, since the Modern Mart was just down the hill. As I exited the diner, a cab driver was parked in front of me, sitting there, with his door open, just taking a rest.

He immediately struck up a conversation with me. I thought nothing of it, because I was just being me, in my Bermudian Comfort Zone- no threats anywhere, just gentility! 


The cabbie seemed to enjoy my openness, and was soon asking sketchy questions, nonchalantly. "Where are you staying?" "How long are you here?" and of course, "Where is your man?" (I paraphrased the latter.)

Instinctively, I knew it was time to go! I said, "Well, I've gotta run now"... He said, "Oh, well- just in case I can be of service to you, here's my card." To be polite, I accepted his card. This is just what you do. 

As I glanced down at the card, I felt the expression on my face turn to UTTER SHOCK. 

As my eyes popped out of my head, onto the pavement, I read the cabbie's name. It was the RUM SWIZZLE STALKER from 2015!!

I mean, honestly (!)- what are the chances of this happening?!?!?

Feeling like I had just been severely 'PUNKED', I made a swift exit, and dialed Jeannie, on my cell, as I made my escape. I needed to express to someone, how scandalous this was!

"Oh my GOD!!!!! You will never believe what just happened!!!!!" Again, I got stern words to be extra careful. Indeed, islands can be small!

As I walked down South Shore Road, I stopped to photograph a beautiful seashorse on the side of a house. My shoes felt funny. 

I glanced down, to notice that, I had left Salt Kettle with two different shoes on! 

Must have been the high potassium...?!

Apparently, as I write, I tend to leave my shoes under the table. In my haste to leave, I had put on one blue shoe, and one sparkly silver one! I laughed aloud, to myself...

As I entered the supermarket, I was delighted to see the couple from Greenwich, England who I had seen a few days back. They had connected with Larry for a tour of Bermuda, so I was anxious to hear about it. 

Having grabbed my necessities, I texted Larry to see what he was up to. He was home, and said he would come give me a ride back to my guest house.

As we drove along, I said, "Larry, can I ask you a question?" "Do you know XYZ cab driver?" "Oh yes!", he said. The rest of the ride was spent discussing the rules of the road, when it comes to chatting with unfamiliar men in Bermuda. 

He said, "Well if you tell someone where you are staying, they will consider that an invitation..." OH MY GOD. 

However, he reassured me that "XYZ" was not a threatening man- just recently divorced and in need of some "company". 

I prayed for XYZ not to appear at Salt Kettle, and reminded myself AGAIN to always listen to Jeannie! She is my conscience, so we always say...

Back at the guest house, Janie and Suzie were preparing a cocktail party to commemorate their mum's birthday. 

On the kitchen table, along with lots of lovely treats, was Hazel's glass of scotch (that she always had at 5pm- just as Marlys would have had her drink) and her straw hat. 

The party started with a glass of prosecco, and recognition of why we had gathered. It started with five of us, and grew to a party of nine, all seated around the kitchen table.


As the drinks flowed and the music became louder, so did the laughter. We told stories, and enjoyed ourselves- pretty much without abandon... 

It was as if we were old friends, but actually an even mix of old and new- all connected by Salt Kettle.

When the party got a little late, it was time for Suzie and I to go back to her house; I was without a room at Salt Kettle for the night, due to my late booking. She graciously offered me the guest room at her home in Warwick.

Back at Suzie's, I was given a sarong to wear in the style of a dress. She told me how to put it on, and instructed me to come out for a nightcap. 

Having enjoyed an 'array of different beverages' at the celebration of Hazel, why stop now, I thought to myself. 

Suzie and I sat, in our sarongs, sharing stories over a Salted Caramel Vodka on the rocks. 

Before we knew it, it was midnight! Where had the time gone?

This seems to happen, here in Bermuda. there is a palpable (and wonderful) sense of timelessness.