The Two Chocolatiers

The beautiful thing about staying in small guest houses in Bermuda- especially for a single traveler- is that you inevitably accrue new acquaintances, some of whom you will truly connect with. It is comforting to meet kind and interesting people, who will invite you for a museum visit, a cocktail or a cup of coffee.

This morning, the new friends at the breakfast table were Mark and Rachel from New York. Interestingly, the couple has taken over a chocolate business in Queens, that has a rich heritage in their community. It is called Aigner Chocolates, and is located in Forest Hills. 

Mark, a pastry chef by trade, spotted the business for sale one day, in passing. Despite the fact that his wife is a clinically- trained social worker (and fellow alum of NYU), they went into business together with gusto, embracing all of its graces.

I marveled at their story- because they took over a business that belongs where it has always been. They learned what they did not already know, and are continuing to do so- in order to satisfy their customers needs and wishes.

Breakfast discussion centered on what types of creations they make, what is popular, etc. I naturally asked about chocolate rabbits, and told them about my grandfather's Saturday Evening Post cover of the chocolate rabbit assembly line.

Having been raised in Whimseys, I have a strong affection for 'mom and pop' shops. In a world where there is so much competition, Amazon can never steal the experience of walking into a local chocolate shop, and smelling the essence of handmade confections.

Mark and Rachel arrived in Bermuda, prior to arriving at Granaway Guest House. They had explored Air BNBs at other locales, and would soon shift over to The Fairmont Southampton (still referred to here, as The Southampton Princess.) Little Daisy and I spent a long weekend at the Princess not too long ago; it was wonderful.

This morning, I had hopes of heading to Dockyard to catch the final stretch of the END TO END charity walk, but time was not in my favor. I was also switching accommodation- heading off to Salt Kettle House, the place where my love affair with Bermuda was germinated.

When I first came to Bermuda, in 1994, Hazel Lowe operated Salt Kettle House. I have extremely fond memories of that stay, with my girlfriend, Donna. We truly had the time of our lives! Free spirits, we rented mopeds, taking our lives in our naive young hands. We went out to the discos at night, and even managed to wind up on an island at a "Pirate Party". It was an unforgettable trip, that would seed a love for Bermuda deeply in my soul.

Hazel Lowe was the first person to sit down, and go over the map of Bermuda with me in her dining room. Interestingly, I now have the opportunity to meet three of her children. Since Hazel's passing several years ago, her son John has been operating the guest house. Currently, he is on holiday in Hungary, so his two sisters are minding the ship in the interim- Suzie and Janie. Suzie came to pick me up at Granaway, which was a nice grace note.

Salt Kettle House is a beautiful, historic, rambling home that sits directly on the water, facing Hamilton. Lush flowers of every color are in bloom, everywhere you turn on this property. I thought of my mom, as I noticed potted impatiens, hanging from trees out front. Marlys had a tradition of planting one pink flower, in the hollow of an oak tree outside her kitchen in Springs. A pop of color never hurts.

My bedroom faces the Harbor, has Mexican floor tiles (a la the Georgica kitchen) and fabulous bedspreads that sing to my textile-loving eyes. Outside my door, is a patio with table and chairs for sipping my coffee. Within a stone's throw, are adirondack chairs at the water's edge- perfect for tranquil relaxation, reflection and bird watching. There is also a hammock, which has a special allure...


It was known to the Lowes that I had one night of my stay "uncovered", due to my last minute trip to Bermuda. Not long after my arrival- with effervescent hospitality- Janie and Suzie brainstormed where they would be able to accommodate me, and it was soon decided that I will go stay at Suzie's home! 

Suzie knocked on my door and said, in her lovely 'transatlantic accent', that is reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn, "Daisy! Come see me house!  I want you to see what you will be getting...You don't need to put your shoes on. Let's just go!" 

There is something special about being called "Darling" by someone whose voice rings of Malawi, England and Bermuda... charm, off the rails!

Off we went, to Warwick, where I received a quick tour of her lovely coral-colored home, perched on a hill next to the home of her sister. She pointed to her plunge pool, offered to let me lounge in it with abandon, and I was sold. 

Once I got settled at Salt Kettle, I decided to lunch at The Southampton Princess; they have a casual restaurant right next to their pool. Although I had my swimsuit and towel in tow, as per my routine in Bermuda, I did not "pool crash". Had circumstances been different, I would have loved to take a dip- but, only if invited. 

Upon my arrival, the breezes were kicking up, the shade was on the pool, there were "lovebirds" showing a little too much PDA in the water, and of course, as fate would have it, there was a Mallard duck swimming around.

Everyone, who knows me well, knows how I adore Mallards. The opportunity to swim alongside a Mallard (much less, a Bermudian one) would be a new experience. What can I say? I was tainted by 'Make Way for Ducklings' in my childhood...

The Fairmont exudes the best in customer service. I noted that my server asked my name when she greeted me, so that each time she returned to the table she could say "How are things, Miss Dohanos?" 

I admired that- and the fact that nobody mispronounced my name, despite the fact that many of the food and beverage staff come to work in Bermuda from far overseas.

After a lunch of Tikka chicken salad, I ventured inside for a nice tall coffee at Wickets. This is the cute coffee shop, at which I would fetch hot morning java, as an enticement to awaken my niece, Daisy, on that special trip we took. It was the only way to get her up; the pillows at the Fairmont are the best I have ever dreamt on.

I was the last customer of the day, affording me the chance to talk with my server about work life in Bermuda, and specifically work life with the Fairmont.  A student in Kinesiology in Canada, she said that she was so happy to be home at the beach. She loves having a corporate employer in Bermuda; travel perks cannot be overestimated.

Once the cafe closed, I sat in a plush chair in the lower lobby, enjoying the comings and goings of visitors- even offering advice to some, or giving directions.

As I sat there, I tried to concentrate on an oddity- what the hotel smelled like. 

There is a very certain aroma in the air, when you enter The Fairmont Southampton. At first, I thought it could be perfume wafting through the various spaces; yet, it soon became apparent that it was distinctive.

I paid a visit to the concierge to pick up some pricing on the spa- merely to humor myself... I asked the concierge, casually, what I was smelling in the hotel. 

Here, I learned something that I found fascinating! The Fairmont deliberately infuses aromatic fragrances through the air vents at the hotel, to relax its visitors! I was not going crazy, after all. Subtle nuances make for great experiences, it seems. No wonder I did not want to leave...I was intoxicated.


As I headed to the entrance to grab a cab, I remembered that I was out of wine. Passing by the plush Jasmine Lounge, I thought...why not have a glass of wine? The glass would be a more expensive option, yet it was the experience that I was paying for.

I settled in, on a plush couch with blue velvet MARLesque pillows. A waiter from Capetown, South Africa greeted me with utter congeniality. I conversed with him about working in hospitality, and asked him how he had wound up on this little island in the Atlantic. Having been to Capetown, we exchanged stories. I learned that there is currently a drought in South Africa.

About this time, Mark and Rachel texted me to say that they would be down in the lobby soon for dinner. We made plans to share a drink, which was a wonderful way to wind down my day. We shared stories about our day, and they scooted off to supper, after picking up my drink tab. I was so happy to have made their acquaintance.

A second glass of wine brought a waiter from Cairo. The picture of pride, he talked with me about the two Fairmont hotels, here in Bermuda. I was curious why the Fairmont in Hamilton seemed to have better PR (i.e. ads in Hamptons Magazine), than its Southampton counterpart. Apparently, the Southampton hotel is 100% Fairmont-owned, whereas the Hamilton hotel is managed by Fairmont, yet owned by a Bermudian.

It was time to cab it "home."


Cab rides in Bermuda are educational, always- unless YOU are aloof. 

My lesson, enroute back to Salt Kettle, centered on home maintenance. Limestone houses in Bermuda date back to the 1600's. Because the stone is porous, Bermudians are required to repaint their homes every four years, with a paint that is actually rubberized, to repel the rain. Pristine homes require attention.

Back in Salt Kettle House, I snacked on a piece of pizza from BLU, which was still fresh and delicious. I sat, at the water's edge, in an adirondack chair accompanied by Pickles, the cat. 

Earlier in the night, I had befriended a heron, but he had (quite literally) taken off.  

Another gentleman from the guest house had come out to feel the breezes, too; he is in Bermuda, escaping the rigors of Wall Street. 

It is always enjoyable to meet other people who relish this island as I do. 

After a week in Bermuda, I am adjusting to a slower pace, and accepting that everyday, things "unravel". No matter which way it happens, it feels just fine.