Paradise Chronicles

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything so I thought about starting a blog series called the Paradise Chronicles, which basically entails about life in Bermuda from a locals perspective.

For those who don’t know much about Bermuda, the first thing you must know is that it’s small…tiny even, at only 21 square miles you can drive around the island 5 times in one day and still have time to spare, so over time you can run out of things to do, so we get creative.

Summer time is the best, with beach parties and raft-ups galore; which is when you attach boats to each other in the sea and have one massive boat party, BBQ’s, friendly people and drinks aplenty. It’s hard not to smile.

The island itself? Is beautiful, I’ve been to most of the North Western quarter of the world but my home remains the prettiest, can’t wait to visit Asia though, I hear it’s amazing there too, but below is a shot of the sunset a beach near my place.

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Work wise? I cant hate on it at all, people here are relaxed, paychecks are big and there’s no income tax…. soo it’s a nice place to save dollaz. After living in Barcelona for University I’ve always thought of moving back, so i’ll work my ass off in real estate here for that sexy apartment in Catalunya, but until then…No worries

Life is good in paradise.


Sitting in my boiling hot room as Spanish temperatures have been blistering lately… I just thought I’d light one, play some music and write a bit.

Working in a country that is suffering from a banking crisis has been quite the challenge. Roughly 50% of young people here are out of work, and the fact I managed to find a job is something that still bewilders me.

It’s not as though the Spanish don’t want to work…it’s just that there is no work. Protests are held in the streets on a regular basis due to that, although tourism and the nightlife are basically carrying this city afloat at the moment…things have to change… and soon.

The threat of complete economic failure hasn’t scared me even remotely though… although I just plan on being here for the summer. I guess I really came here to in order to appreciate the value of money and struggles of life.

In Bermuda the GDP is abnormally high, and the average working person is paid between US$500 and US$1500 a week, so you never really understand life without money…. until you try to buy real estate.

As I’m always looking for a challenge rather than something boring and predictable I decided to work in Barca… and honestly I find trying to survive here a thrill.

Like I said in ‘Who I am’ some people have described me to be random.

Sharing an apartment with locals has been such a good experience as well…  and very different as I’m the only straight person in a house with 2 girls and one other guy.

So whenever La selección (Spanish futbol team) play in the Euros – we’re in the final tomorrow Viva España!!! –  I’m watching it with the girls instead of the guys…it’s a funny twist because she knows even more about football tactics than I do sometimes.

They definitely cook more than anyone else I’ve ever lived with…and quality meals too…with a vast array oils and spices every time I cook… I experiment. As a stoner, I love food… due to munchies… and since my mother taught me how to cook as soon as I was able to walk…I’m fuckin lovin it.

Making pastas, hot sandwiches, salads and roasts I’m finding myself preferring to cook at home. It’s cheaper, it’s healthier…. But damn I just love food and that kitchens my lab.

Managing money has been a challenge as well, often I leave 2 of my cards at home to prevent overspending and rely on the cash I have for a night out. It’s smart as well since pickpockets are everywhere in this city.

It’s fucking working too…I’m definitely not buying bottles in a club… but I’m living a damn good bar life. Making connections with bartenders you often get discounts or free shots.

So as I begin my working life in extreme conditions…I just wanna say it beats the shit out of studying for exams.

Now as my munchies have kicked in….I’m gonna make a meal 😉


Today marks one year since I left home….damn, it feels pretty good… liberating actually as I feel like I’m fulfilling a dream.


Touring nations I’ve only heard of in Geography class with just a bag, a passport and massive hangovers while observing different cultures, both day and night 😉


It’s the thrill of something new and adventurous that creates a desire within me to see more of what the world has to offer.


But one can never forget their roots and mines are from the humble island of Bermuda…where the sea is blue, sand is perfect and the sun hangs over all day long.

Where the people are chill and turn a national holiday a beach or boat party…both consisting of lots of drinking, blazing and good dancing.


Where party is the culture of the nation and even your manager takes out for whiskeys with his family for lunch. The typical way to start your work day is to wake n’ bake…. Especially in the landscaping department.


Where the legendary Johnny Barnes wishes you a good day on the way to work every morning and then his statue seconds later.

It’s where my family is and where I spent my youth and where some of the best summers can be spent.


Bermuda is my home and I sense a return on the arisen.

Hit by a Car!

Earlier in my blog, I wrote about how I used to be a terrorist on the roads…this is an incident where Mother Karma bitched back….with a vengeance.

A few weeks before my high school graduation I started riding slow…because I had College to look forward to and I didn’t wanna fuck it up by dying.

On the way to pickin’ up my girl at the time, I was being a good boy, riding slower than a pedestrian driver; I was on the expressway to Happy-days.

Then suddenly shit took a sharp turn to the left in the direction of Fuck-ville, and I heard a loud screech of tires, I knew it was a car but all that came to mind was….

“Ughh… really?”

BAM!!…suddenly I’m flung 10 feet into the air as a Jeep anally raped my moped.

But as I’m flying through the air….. I’m not struck by fear, but I’m in awe, because I was flying in slow motion!! The flight felt like it lasted a lifetime, and below I saw my moped getting ripped to shreds as it danced across the concrete road.

The guys who hit me check to see if I’m okay… and then start begging that I don’t call the cops because the driver has a warrant out for his arrest.

So they offer me weed and a free fix-up at their friend’s garage… I accept, then comes the ambulance, they look con-fuckled at the fact I’m still alive and standing… and ask if I’m alright.

Guilty of occasionally being an idiot I chose the free weed route and waved them off, started my bike and following them.

A few miles in my arm begins to feel heavy…then unbearably I stop to get some ice from the store…when I come out, my mom’s standing by my ride….. Bermuda’s too fucking small!

We drive to the hospital where the guy who hit me is waiting, turns out I broke my arm… o well.

The police come to take him to prison and I get stuck with a cast right before my Graduation… kinda looks like it broke it wanking too hard to be honest

At least I got free weed 🙂

To witness a KIDNAPPING!

In summer of ’07 I was working for a private contractor as a trainee electrician.  It was a fuckin’ fantastic job cuz all we did was make conversation with the ladies and talk shit to each other… whilst doing our job of course.

One mornin’ I noticed that a mirror to my moped was stolen and I was actually kinda relieved…. because they looked kinda faggy on my ride and I was gonna take them down that night.

So as I meet with the guys for work, me and a co-worker…. (let’s call him Stewie ) were sent to an address which neither of us knew, for a job.

As we’re on my moped we realise we went passed the house and as we tried to turn in the middle of the street…then… SHIT HAPPENED!!!

We get rammed on our side by a black car with tinted windows, my rides crumbling beneath me and as soon as I regain composure I see Stewie getting smacked across the face and tossed into the car by two guys.

One of them tells me…”This isn’t of your concern”

And despite memorizing the license plate before they drove off…I followed the “Negro Code” that is, NO SNITCHIN’!!

Plus this type of shit always happened to Stewie…. he somehow managed to get raped by a crazy bitch the previous week after getting drugged by her.

So I called my boss and told him Stewie got kidnapped… he asked if I was serious, which I said I was and he burst out laughing XD.

We agreed calling the police would be too much hassle and he’ll pop up eventually.

Which he did…apparently they were looking for a paedophile that was sextin’ their lil’ cousin… followed her description, found Stewie, gave him a concussion with his own helmet and took him to the girl…

He wasn’t even the right guy….. XD

Sure enough they drop him off at the hospital, from where he called us and told us everything… he was given time off to recover but we gave him so much shit for it when he got back…

Later that day on my ride home I noticed that the other faggy mirror had broken off during the kidnappin’… problem solved with minimal effort.

For those concerned about Stewie he’s doing perfectly fine now and we still joke, about it to this day.