March 22nd, 1989

March 22nd, 1989

Flight from London Gatwick (LGW) to Bermuda (BDA)

Princess Hotel, Hamilton, Bermuda

So glad I stayed at Jon’s last night, otherwise it would have been a mega early start this morning. When I ventured downstairs, Jon was already up and he made me tea and toast then offered to drop me off at TriStar House. That was a real treat and saved me from yet another train and tube ride and I know he had to rearrange a few work appointments in order to do so, for which I was most appreciative.

On the crew coach from home base at Heathrow to Gatwick airport, I sat with a girl called Annabel who is, by far, the plumiest sounding girl I’ve ever met. We worked well on the flight together in economy with another lovely girl called Suzanne. Annabel and I got sent on crew rest together and as soon as I pulled the curtain around us, she said, “Your chap is simply divine.”

I thought she must somehow know Ben but I was baffled as to how. Staring at me, she said, “The chap in the rather tasteful car, from which you sauntered into TriStar House this morning? Do keep up McGarr!”

I found myself smirking as she wrapped the band of her velvet eyeshades around her head, “Well?” Is he or is he not your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Poppycock!” she exclaimed, pulling the eyeshades down, over her eyes.

Most of today’s passengers were coming to Bermuda (or Tampa) on holiday, which meant they were in very good spirits. All except for one poor guy who was ill the entire time. At the end of the flight, he offered Annabel and I fifty quid each to thank us for helping him. Obviously we refused, but when we took our seats for landing, Annabel whispered that we should have accepted and celebrated with some “decent champers.”

Lovely surprise on arrival, when Lolly boarded with her crew, who were taking the flight onto Tampa. We didn’t get much time to chat, but agreed to meet up tomorrow, which I’m looking forward to.

We arrived to the most incredible views of pale pink sand, turquoise water and houses painted in various pastels. On the crew bus to the hotel, the driver had his work cut out for him dodging the tourists on scooters, which I have to say looks like a fun way to explore the island.

The hotel is pink and has an elegant, classic feel to it. I was so happy when I came into my room that I actually sprinted around it in a fit of excitement, that only escalated when I opened the balcony doors to views of the pool and the harbour.

Lovely long shower, with lavish use of the various smellies provided by the hotel. Wrapped myself in the provided cotton robe, shut off the evil air conditioning and slid between the sheets. After an hour’s nap, I woke up feeling refreshed, turned on the radio and waltzed around the room to George Michael singing, “Kissing A Fool.”

Met most of our crew in Robin, our purser’s room, for yummy drinks. It’s interesting how we initially meet in uniform in the briefing room, work together on the flight then show up off duty at a room party (in a different country) in civvies.

Robin looked rather stern onboard, with her hair in a tight bun and her pristine uniform, but tonight her with her hair down she looked much younger and more relaxed. Or perhaps that’s the effect of the rum!

Walked into town for dinner, and everything smelled so fragrant. I don’t remember the name of the restaurant but the food was excellent and expensive. From there, most of us went to the Mariners Club where I enjoyed several dark (black rum) ‘n’ stormies (ginger beer) with Suzanne (so sweet) and Annabel (so posh.)

Thinking about Ben, but making a conscious decision not to for the remainder of my time here on this beautiful island.



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