It's a Bermuda-ful Life

My mom told me to expect the most beautiful beaches I'd ever seen, but I was still blown away by one Bermudian beach in particular: Horeshoe Bay. The sandy bottom was flat, soft, and white. And you could not only feel it but see it as well because the water was perfectly transparent with an aquamarine tint. The size of the waves varied on different days; the first time I went, they were small, a regular back and forth swaying on which you could drift for a while. On my second visit, they were larger, good for riding if you felt like it or bobbing on top of if you didn't.

Of course the most unexpected treat (and therefore the best I think) was the moped experience. Like anything that turns out to be great, the idea of the mopeds was met with some trepidation on our part. They were dangerous. People wound up in casts after slipping on sand or riding up and over curbs. But we went for them anyway, and I can't think of a better way to explore the island. They weren't just transportation, I said to the other members of my family at dinner on our last night, they were entertainment in and of themselves.

Tropical (or, excuse me, semi-tropical) islands are strange. I loved living in that environment for a week, but I'm not sure now that the Caribbean or the coast of Mexico holds as much allure for me as it once did. Even "paradise" isn't always paradise: lizards, heat, and even tropical foliage sometimes make you even more keen for dry air, autumn leaves, and good old chipmunks, which you can watch being chased around your backyard by your cat.

It's amazing though that a place like Bermuda exists only 2 hours by plane from New York. There's nothing- and I mean nothing- else out there in the middle of the Atlantic but this curvy strip of coral piled with pastel colored cottages and tourists buzzing around on little bikes. I'm glad I had a chance to see it.