Bermuda (pt2)

You know when you wake up with horrific sunburn and your skin feels like sand paper on the sheets? Well that was all of us on day 2.

The sun was shining though, so that meant another trip to the beach.

Boiled egg in hand (thanks mumma muller), off we trotted down the tropical roads to find a postcard perfect spot.




Look at us all pretending we’re not about to run into the shade to protect our fair skin.

Another day passed blissfully with us napping on the white sand and splashing in the ever so slightly too cool waters.


We decided to make this night the night we went for a big one; to check out everything the hopping town of Hamilton had going.

After scrounging together our pennies, Eoin made us a feast of fajitas, rice, and cabbage (it was meant to be lettuce). And so, a tradition was born. We have since had a fair few fajita nights; all of them getting out of hand from too many homemade margaritas and resulting in countless laughs and bad decisions.

Off topic there so lets get back to it….



Several shots each and a game of Kings and we headed out to the strip.


I can’t recall the name of the club we went to but I’m 90% sure it was something along the lines of Club Cairo. It was 80% creepy men and 20% us. *yes this is exact math.


One of us (not naming names) had a few too many shots and created chaos for us getting home, including covering my lovely cream cardigan in sambuca scented vomit. Delicious. Our big night out resulted in drinking gin & tonics in our pyjamas on a pull out sofa.


Considering we had a snorkelling session booked the next morning, heavy drinking probably wasn’t the best idea. 5 of the group managed to haul ourselves out of bed to get on the boat, leaving a sleeping hungover angel back at the apartment.



Snorkelling was great, unless you were the one member of the team who forgot to mention you can’t swim very well and so spent the following 2 hours inhaling salt water through the snorkel.

The holiday was coming to an end, so what did we do? Stayed at the 5 star resort where the boat dropped us pretending that we were guests, listening to P.I.M.P on steel drums, obviously.


I was very sad to leave Bermuda actually, even to return to New York. It was definitely one of the best trips I took over my year in the US, and this blog post is only a tiny glimpse of all the laughs, jokes, and memories that came out of it.

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