Thoughts from my recent trip with friends to Bermuda:
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Vacationing with friends was something I did a great deal when I was younger, but it’s been a long time since I traveled on vacation with just friends.
Someone told me before I left that being away from Elysha and the kids would give me a greater appreciation for how much I love them. “Absence makes the heart grow finder,” she said.
This was nonsense.
I knew it was nonsense as she spoke those ridiculous words to me.
I missed Elysha, Clara, and Charlie from the moment I stepped outside the house, as I knew I would. I thought about them often while I was in Bermuda. As much as I enjoyed my trip, I also found myself looking forward to getting home and seeing them again.
I certainly didn’t need to fly to an island in the Atlantic to be reminded about how much I love my wife and kids. I often find myself sitting at my table in the wee hours of the morning, anxious for them to awake so I can see them again.
I miss them overnight. I knew that I’d miss them while in Bermuda.
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We went to Bermuda to play golf, but honestly, it was the time spent with my friends that meant the most to me. We could’ve sat in a room together for four days, and I would’ve been happy.
Plato moved to the west coast a few years ago. Andrew recently moved to Boston. A group of four that once spent lots of time together no longer gathers nearly as often as we once did.
It sucks. I hate it quite a lot.
The weekend brought us back together, reminding me of how much I miss them, both individually and collectively.
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I played golf for the first time since my surgery on October 29, 2021, which made those first few swings a little frightening. I’d received the go-ahead from my doctors to resume playing, but after being warned that swinging a golf club during the first three months after my surgery would be disastrous, it was a little unnerving to swing it again.
I also have no feeling in my upper thigh – an unexpected complication of the surgery – which also made swinging the club a bit odd. Sort of like throwing myself into space.
Happily, I didn’t break. By the sixth hole, I had forgotten about my surgery completely and was swinging hard and poorly once again.
It was a relief. I can’t imagine not being able to play the game I love.
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Our driver for the weekend, Elden, was a joy. There’s nothing better than spending time with a reliable, entertaining, one-of-a-kind local during your trip. Elden was funny, sincere, knowledgable, and possibly a little crazy. Deeply curious about the world. Convinced that the lottery was a reasonable and viable way of making his fortune. Open and honest about many things.
I would love to spend a week or two doing a ride along with Elden for the purposes of writing something about him. He’s an incredibly compelling and unique person, and he made the trip so much more interesting as a result.
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The trip required a total of five COVID-19 tests.
One test two weeks before the trip to ensure that my late December – early January bout with COVID-19 was not still causing me to test positive.
Another test three days before the trip, as required by Bermuda officials.
A PCR and a rapid test upon arriving in Bermuda.
One more rapid test the day before we flew back to the United States.
The pandemic has made everything more challenging.
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I accomplish a great deal of work on airplanes, but I also enjoy talking to my seat mates when they are game. I took four flights to and from Bermuda. My first seatmate – a woman who works in advertising in New York – exchanged business cards with me after we determined that we might be able to work together sometime in the future. We talked shop for almost the entire flight.
My last seatmate was a psychotherapist who had read Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend years ago.
I’m still waiting to see one of my books being read on an actual plane, but this was close.
I spent most of both flights talking to these women. I know most people dread the thought of conversation with a stranger on a plane, but for me, I’ve always found it as an opportunity to uncover a new and previously unknown corner of the world.
That said, if my seat mate doesn’t want to chat, I don’t force myself upon them. Also, if my seat mate is a soulless monster or a mind numbing snooze-fest, I have no problem excusing myself and donning headphones for the duration of the flight.
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Here’s the thing about golf:
You don’t remember most of your good shots, but the bad ones stay with you forever.
My memories of this weekend will always include the four consecutive tee shots that I hit into a housing complex, the shot out of the bunker that nearly killed Plato, and the left-handed shot I was forced to take off the side of a small cliff that resulted in my friends referring to me as “The Billy Goat.”
I’ll also remember the two miraculous shots that I hit between narrow gaps in trees that somehow resulted in lost balls, as well as the moment I was communing with a duck (not kidding) while Plato fired off a shot, expecting me to be watching the flight of the ball instead of gazing into the depths of a duck’s eyes.
That ball was lost, too.
Bad shots are memorable shots. The worse the shot, the more memorable it is. When I play golf, I make a lot of memories.
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That being said, one good shot can also linger in your mind. On the final hole of the weekend – hole #81 – I hit two excellent shots, including a perfect seven iron, to get within 100 yards of the hole,.
It was my finest iron of the weekend.
Then I hit a ball just off the green behind a bunker. My chip went sideways into an adjacent bunker. Two shots later, I was out of the bunker and over the green. Finally, I chipped onto the green and putted to finish with a 9.
A disastrous hole. But what do I remember best?
That perfectly struck seven iron. I can’t wait to swing that club again.
One good shot will bring you back.
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The trip was planned by Andrew. All I did was Venmo him money prior to the trip. This is absolutely the way to travel. Allow your friend to make all of the decisions. In fact, all the food was paid for by Plato, and all the taxis were paid for by Jeff. I simply sent them Venmo payments after the trip, too.
It’s an outstanding way to travel.
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I had visited Bermuda 15 years ago on our honeymoon. During that visit, Elysha and I explored the island. Toured historic sites. Relaxed on white sand beaches. Swam with the dolphins.
It was fantastic.
During this visit, I played golf. Ate good food. Played a lot of setback and poker in the evenings.
It was kind of like experiencing two entirely different islands. The water was spectacularly blue and the sun was equally warm on my back during both visits, but my experiences couldn’t have been more different.
Both were wonderful. Just very different.
