Soaking Up Hospitality

Thursday came. John was prepping to venture off to Turkey to meet Suzie and Jane on an exotic holiday. I was off to a new accommodation at Coral Beach and Tennis Club on the South Shore. This is a private club, that sits directly on one of the most spectacular stretches of sand in Bermuda. 

As clouds, rain drops and breezes intensified, I began to suspect that my idyllic two days at my oceanfront oasis might not be as expected.

You can't always have your cake, and eat it too. This time, I had my cake- I had the opportunity to stay at Coral Beach (!), but the weather did not grace me with the chance to enjoy all of the lovely amenities. My hopes of sunning and swimming were not to be. 

Coral Beach is a beautiful property, evoking old Bermuda- with old wood, lovely tropical textiles, and at atmosphere that would please Don and Betty Draper.

My room was sky blue, spacious and overlooking the sea. I was happy as a clam, to be able to look out my windows, and have a panoramic vista of the ocean looking back- even as it got louder and louder. 

The beamed ceiling with upward track lighting made for a delightful ambience, as did the splashy artwork of sea creatures. It was a perfect space for me, particularly if I were to be spending sufficient time indoors. Although I would not be splashing around in a pool, I had a bath tub that could fit four people (well, maybe two).

I exchanged texts with the Lowe sisters intermittently. Janie asked me if I had met Alonso. Surely, I should track him down; she gave no other details. 

My time at Coral Beach went rather quickly, despite the inclement weather. Fortunately for me, I received an invite out to dinner with Anne, whom I had met on the beach. Under the assumption that the Beach BBQ onsite would not be taking place(!), we went into town to Portofino for pasta, and had a great time.

The next morning, as I walked up from breakfast, to the clubhouse, I gazed longingly at the beach and the sea. Did I want to go for a beach walk in the rain? 

As I approached the great room, I heard a whistle- the kind that random construction workers make, when a sexy lady walks by. I thought, "Oh Dear... not terribly Bermudian...", and kept walking. Either that, or I was looking very good!

As I arrived on the lovely veranda- bedecked with eight fabulous rocking chairs, I heard the whistle again- even closer.

I walked into the clubhouse... and WHO was waiting for me, but a double-headed yellow Amazon parrot! This was Alonso! I wished that we had met sooner. She said "Hello!" to me, over and over again. I obeyed the signage on her enclosure, and did not attempt to teach her profanity, or talk politics.

It was now time to switch venues, again. My taxi to the "East End" was quite the ride. Somehow, I seem to exude a type of warmth that elicits candor- mostly by men. In no time, my driver was telling me that I could indeed find a Bermudian husband by the time of my departure, if only I would "put bait on my hook." This was 100% unsolicited, as I do not ever ask for advice about my love life in a taxi! 

Thankfully, I am blessed with a very good sense of humor. I would be at my destination soon...Plus, it did not hurt to hear that he estimated my age at 36. When he initially guessed 38, I was aghast! 

Suffice it to say, I was happy to arrive at Grotto Bay, my home for the next few days. The resort is closer to the East End of Bermuda, over the causeway from the airport. Having regularly stayed in the center of Bermuda, I was anxious to check out a new place.

Grotto Bay has a fiery coral campus, made up of a "Great House", and accommodations in units of rooms named after Bermuda's parishes. There is a free-form waterfront pool- with the only swim-up bar in Bermuda (!), a decadent spa (where cave massages are the rage), and even an onsite cave in which one can swim.

My room is located down the hill from the Great House, overlooking the bay. It appears to be newly renovated, in zesty orange, white with washed wood laminate accents. A private patio outside my room offers two comfortable high chairs and a table on which to set a sunset cocktail. Water views are hard to come by, so I do not mind a bit that I can also watch jets land at night. 

In fact, I enjoyed a glass of wine with the tree frogs my first night, in timely fashion to greet the American Airlines night flight from New York, and to send off British Airways.

After depositing my luggage (seemed like 200 pounds of it), I grabbed a taxi to the town of St. George- the oldest settlement in Bermuda. I had an appointment at a very special place for tea- The Bermuda Perfumery.

Those who know me, are aware that I am a fragrance fanatic. I had hoped to sign up for the Perfumery's workshop, during which you can craft your own fragrance (!), but that starts up again in November. That aside, the tea experience stands out as one of the most delightful things I have done here- in thirteen plus visits!

I was seated in a quiet room, surrounded my bottles of perfume in dainty pink packaging, and fresh flowers. My scone was still in the oven, when I arrived. The pastry chef herself offered me a wide selection of teas. I picked Jasmine- a flavor that I had never tried. It was aromatherapy in a tea pot! A very uncanny experience- of tasting a flower that you are accustomed to smelling. Consider me a convert.

Soon, my tier tray was prepped and brought to me- a gorgeous array of mini sandwiches and cakes- topped with fresh bougainvillea and Jasmine flowers. I was simply in Heaven.

As I perused the little cakes, my heart drifted to my mom, as I could not help but think about which little cake she would have chosen, and the comments that she would have made. 

Grief not only comes on bad days. It often comes when you feel any inkling of joy; you become overwhelmed by longing to be together, still. I chose the little pink cake, which Marlys would have predicted; it was colorful, so pleasing to the eye, and delicious.

The Bermuda Perfumery offers tours of their operations, on a schedule. Although a tour was not in the plans, when I was there, a very savvy perfumer named Kirby volunteered to escort myself and some ladies to see where the magic happens. This was an unexpected bonus!

In a small, dim room, behind the perfumery- in their workshop, huge bottles of Lili Bermuda perfume sat on the floor, aging into signature scents. Kirby explained to our small group how perfume is made. Her presentation exceeded my ability to retain all of the details, yet I absorbed as much as I could.

I was interested to learn that some flowers do not have extractable molecules that can be utilized to make a scent. In this case (as with Lily of the Valley, for example), perfumers will find a flower that mimics the molecules- even a variety of rose could do the trick! Who knew? What a wonderful learning experience.

As I ambled down the streets of St. George, the sun came out! Euphoric, I decided that the only way to celebrate Mother Nature was with a Swizzle at Wahoo's. At last, some hope that Hurricane Florence might not be arriving in Bermuda, after all.

I enjoyed some window shopping, as I made my way to take a snapshot of the Sea Venture in King's Square; it is so much smaller, than I would have imagined. Then again, I just got off a container ship!

Behind it, in the water, sat 'my' Pilot boat- a perfect photo opportunity. I was content to view it during the daylight, and was thankful it was docked- rather than rescuing people in peril.

Back at the hotel, a nap was in order. Then, a walk up the hill to dine at the Palm Court-one of several restaurants here at the hotel. When I walked into the dining room, the design elements called my name. I was stricken by the ceiling fans that resemble windmills. Simply beautiful and very tropical.

The atmosphere at Grotto Bay is exceptionally warm; the staff are friendly, as are the guests. Many of them return year after year and generation after generation- a definite nod to fond memories made.


Initially, I was seated at a table next to two ladies. A waiter approached with a pitcher of water. "Care for some Bermudian tap water? Fresh...from...the sky?!" What a charming comment. I accepted. 

After a delicious meal with impeccable service, I headed back to my room. As I exited the great house, a hotel worker said, "Ma'am- there is a DJ tonight, if you are interested!" How sweet. I truly appreciated the invite. Not only because I have seemingly outgrown discos, but because I felt included. Anyone who makes a solo traveler feel included is a rockstar, in my book.

As I climbed into bed, I was amused. At Coral Beach, I had exited my room to hear the sounds of jazz from a live band- accompanied by tree frogs. Here, it was a different tune.

Kudos to those who provide stellar hospitality!