Quarantined In Bermuda…

The Atlantic looked beautiful from my bubble shaped window, releasing my mind and body into island mode. Remaining in this dreamy state the landing gear extended, alerting me of my sweet reality as I touched down in Bermuda.

Lines of passengers eagerly awaiting their holiday stood in a maze of stanchions. Couples with sun hats and Nantucket colors anticipated island paradise. Bright advertisements caught my eye, transforming me into flip flop heaven. No ice shovels, no winter boots.

When my chilly body is released into a warm climate during the winter it takes some de-thawing, one muscle group at a time. I inhale hesitant breaths of natural warm air, not produced by any heat source other than the sun herself. I shed layer by layer before strange looks and sweat get the best of me.

Flying is magical. As an airline professional I have an incredible opportunity to see the world, while witnessing different cultures and climates. It’s a treat, and a perk I can share with others. This was a holiday weekend, my sister was en-route intending to spend time together in Bermuda. The sun was shining, nothing could go wrong…..or could it?!

I walked up to the customs counter visualizing sleeping on a beach, waves rolling in as an island lad brought me a coconut. My sister and I didn’t have a hotel lined up, our only plan was to meet in Bermuda on the same day. Inflight I had only filled in a portion of the Bermudian entry form. Seriously who can concentrate on paperwork heading into vacation, while watching a movie as penne fills your belly? Lines were left blank regarding where I would be staying, causing the mans demeanor to alter matching his stiff uniform. He told me to follow him as he escorted me into a small room without windows. I asked him what was going to happen, he said: “I don’t know.” Adrenaline shot down to my toes. I wasn’t so much worried about customs as the wrath of my sister, since it was my idea. When my sisters flight landed I was told I could meet her. My face must have been paler than a northern white girl in winter, because she questioned me right away. We were brought into the same room when the agent told us it is mandatory to have reservations prior to entrance. Pretty sure I can still feel my sisters glare from that comment. The woman pulled out a glossy photo book of resorts in the area, as she called for availability. Let’s just say it was a holiday weekend, rates soared above high tide. My sister and I had some words on the way to our freshly booked hotel, communicating in a way only sisters can. Following my valuable lesson, we had a nice time together on a sunny island where I spent time on one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen, in daylight….

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