A damp squib
We tried our first road trip on Saturday with AC, 12-days old time to see the world we thought. It's not like you can go far. Shaped like a fish hook, at each end of Bermuda's 21 square miles is 20,000 leagues of the Atlantic Ocean, and in between only a couple of roads extend the whole length of the main island. So in the afternoon we headed west as we drove to Dockyard.
Once the principal Atlantic base for the Royal Navy now a tourist trap we drove the 20 minutes from our house and pushed the pram around closed or mostly empty shops, galleries and art studios. The drive back didn't go so well with 20 minutes of crying. Perhaps she didn't like my driving or the radio, the local stations make me weep.
Then in the early evening we planned to do the 2nd leg of our exploration by driving as far east as you can go to St Catherine's Fort in St George's to watch the annual firework display from the sanctuary of our car (we went
last year). This is more like a 40-minute drive (remember the 35khm speed limit) but this time we got five minutes down the road and the car was reverberating to a pissed off 12-day old now fully aware of how to get her way. We turned round and went home. Hmm.