Bermuda has more than four hundred years of British history under its belt, and it shows. A large fort greets the cruise ships as they dock and an old fashioned pub, the Frog and Onion, is within walking distance of the gangway. That’s where many cruisers headed to, but Earl and I chose to see some sights on segues instead.
The island itself is shaped like a giant fish hook with the dockyard on the tip end. That’s where we met our guide, Disa, who gave our group a quick lesson on riding a segue. It’s all about balance and confidence. If you ever ice skated as a child, you’ll have a sense of the mechanics of it. Strong ankles are helpful.
Disa led the way as we left the dockyard and rode single file around some of the sights: the old clock towers, the yard in the center of the fort where English soldiers took their lunches, the cannons that protected the island from invasion, and the dolphin museum which probably is a more recent addition to the local scene.
Eventually, we took a road out of the city to a residential area, a church that had once housed slave quarters, and an interesting cemetery. I ambled through some random headstones in the cemetery and was surprised that not one of the deceased had seen his fortieth birthday. Most had been seamen; several had died from wounds; one, age twenty-two, drowned.
Next we stopped at a beach known for its sea glass and then segued past the newly built prison where Disa said that conditions in the new facility were nicer than some Bermudans had it on the street. It still didn’t entice me to assault someone to check this out.