Bermuda – 3 years on

3 years on the rock has flown by, probably because I have this inherent view that everyday living here is very similiar. Unlike some ex-pats who move to a new country with an end game like going home after a finite amount of time, we came here open-minded to how long we stayed but acknowledging that we are tied to term work permits and unpredictable government policy.

We are very happy here and although if I’m honest we don’t love it, there isn’t much not to like. We miss the cultural things and modern infrastrucure and the things that one takes for granted that big cities bring, but Bermuda is not like living in Jamaica. This is first world on one of the remotest islands on the planet, albeit it can be like living in an English village in the 1970’s.

Bermuda has it’s frustrations and it does overdose a little, well a lot, on idiosyncracies, but that is part of the fun and experience of living in someone else’s country.

Although we are surrounded by some of the best beaches in the world, we’re not beach people and when I say that I like nothing better than to stare out at the water with a beer in my hand but you won’t find us sat frying on a beach all day. I love that the harbour and surrounding ocean gives the island a whole new persepective. I will never forget how transparent the sea is or pink the sand is and love that the sun being out can be counted on for 8 months a year but the humidity is nasty.

I miss driving proper cars at a proper speed. I miss choices, I miss shopping and not even real shopping but looking in shop windows. I don’t like spending $25 on getting a pair of trousers dry cleaned but fortunately I like wearing shorts to work and the socks I have got used to.

We averaged a visit to the cinema once every two weeks in Chicago, yet I have yet to visit a movie theatre here in 3 years. I like that I can be home in 25 minutes and I have one of the longest commutes in the office and I like that I can play a round of golf on courses that would make your heart skip after work.

I like that it is an interesting melting pot of people who live, sometimes uneasily, together on this 21-mile volcanic island. I miss professional sport to follow but I’m happy that I have met five fellow Charlton fans on this little isle.

I like a lot that I pay a small amount of income tax, but I don’t like that a sandwich, a drink and a packet of crisps costs $22, or a bag of carrots $10 and mostly half of them are moldy when you get home and it annoys me that dinner for two at an average restaurant can cost $500. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that this is a tax-free island.

I miss owning my own home, and I loathe paying my landlords exorbitant rent and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the mold, cockroaches and giant frogs but I love now though the tree-frogs who sing me to sleep.

Bermuda for us is not forever, it couldn’t be, and it won’t be and I have started to enquire and ruminate what and where our future’s lie but in the meantime with the little ‘un, and both of us working in demanding jobs we are happy to stay for as long as we can before island fever conquers us, our work permit expires, or the next adventure comes calling.