We went off in the car to St George’s. It was such a beautiful day, blue sky as far as the eye can see, a gentle breeze blowing and about 25 degrees. That’s around 77 in Fahrenheit, a bit cool yet for most Bermudians, but just perfect for me. The humidity over the last few days has been 90 percent, so to have a reprieve was very welcomed.
My lovely husband said ‘Why don’t we go out for lunch today?’. We haven’t been to an actual restaurant since the night before the Island locked down for Covid-19 Shelter in Place. That was months ago now. Level two to the ‘new normal’ means we’re allowed to visit restaurants with outside dining, as well as takeout facilities. We quite like the Wharf’s waterfront in St George’s overlooking the harbour and across the bay, so off we went. The staff there were exceptionally good. Masks were worn all the time, but guests could take theirs off once seated. Our hands were sanitised before entry, and contact details taken, and there was also more hand sanitiser available on the table. So other than feeling like we were preparing to rob the place, which is something I can’t seem to get my brain past, it was business as usual. Between us we ordered a delicious lunch of Bermuda’s famous fish chowder, with sherry pepper sauce and rum; wahoo nuggets, and a fish sandwich on raisin bread. That raisin bread is sweet, and tastes a little like a hot cross bun, and very popular here. Full as two little ticks, we rolled out of there a couple of hours later. A walk round St George’s was both enjoyable and essential to recover from scoffing, and how could we resist on such a nice day? After the walk we got back in the car to go home again, feeling like real people for the first time in ages.
I opened the back door of the car to pop my bag in, and a humungous cockroach the length of my thumb completely freaked and scuttled like a lightning bolt straight under the front passenger seat. I have to admit, I screamed! Not usually squeamish with bugs, this one caught me completely unguarded, and I could feel my whole skin crawl as it scuttled away. My lovely husband looked puzzled and said ‘What did you do?’. He thought I’d hurt myself. I kind of replied in monosyllable fashion pointing ‘Roach, seat, there, urgh!’. We moved the seat, and it shimmied up under it further. We tried to flush it out with my snorkelling prodder which happened to be at hand, it disappeared. We decided to drive home and deal with it when we got there. Neither of us were very happy about that one, but prodder poised for an emergency and the whole time watching the floor, just in case, we made it home without being crawled on. I have to say by now we were fairly traumatised.
Once home, with Bop1 grasped firmly in his hand like a weapon, the car got slowly stripped down looking for the sneaky bugger that was hiding somewhere.
Car mats, masks, rubber gloves, equipment, CD’s and well, you name it, there was a lot of stuff coming out being flung onto the driveway. I guess that’s what happens when your car doubles as your mobile office. Trying to be helpful I asked ‘Why don’t you shut the car up and just spray it to make sure it’s dead?’. The look I got told me that wasn’t even slightly helpful at this current point in time. I left him to it. A few minutes later, a very triumphant roar came from the general car direction, and I was called out to ‘see it’. It took half a can of Bop, and perseverance on his part, but it was indeed dead. Here is my photographic proof!
Since Brown Chicken brought her chicks to us, we haven’t had to deal with any cockroaches. They are cleaning them up big time. I have to say I really don’t mind not seeing them. One night when popping to the loo, avoiding lights so I didn’t wake up too much, one scuttled across the floor at me. All I could do was brace myself as it changed direction at the last minute and disappeared under the vanity cabinet. My friend who lived in Australia for a period of time, had an ice cream container with syrup in it, just enough to cover the bottom, under her sink. I remember her bringing it out, with roaches all stuck in the sweet sticky irresistible surface, pour boiling water over them, and pour them down the insinkerator. That crunching noise is hard to forget. Then she would set it up again for the next hoard.
Brown chicken with her brood 
New additions but sadly one little one is lost already
Cockroaches usually turn up here in Bermuda when the weather warms up, especially the flying ones like that one. It hasn’t really been hot yet, so even though Brown Chicken and her brood are doing a good job, I don’t want to get too complacent!
More soon – Sally
1Bop is a heavy-duty insect spray
P.S. if you’re finding things a bit stressful lately, why not email me via my contact page and we can set a time to chat : https://idontdoironing.com/did-you-know/
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Oh and P.P.P.S. (Last one I promise!) to answer Dianne’s question about the door tradition, I found this wee gem. Feel free to read and comment: https://www.doorsan.co.uk/blog/2013/03/superstitions-about-doors/
I don’t do ironing 
Oh that makes my skin crawl!!!! The babies are growing fast aren’t they?! 🐥🐓 xx
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Getting in that car to travel home was very hard to do! Yes the babies are little clones of mum now, the boys are fighting and often have bloody faces, and the neighbours keep chasing them out of their vege patch, so we’re not too popular the moment!
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Oh dear!!! Keep your head down 😅
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Need to edit that:
I”d keep Brown Chicken and her babies on if I were you! should be the last sentence.
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Hi Sally
Love your story about the cockroach – freaky for sure! There’s something about them that just puts my/our teeth on edge. Just as well it was dead, you wouldn’t have got a clear shot at it otherwise.
I presented a photo of a (much smaller) cockroach on our family WhatsApp page. There was a bit of jibing at me about it and it was onlly because it was dead that I was fast enough to photograph it!
When I was teaching Expressive Writing to mental health people, a woman leant into her bag to get something, and leapt back with a scream.
I’d keep Brown Chicken and her babies on if I were you!
I’ll pass on the advice my writing mentor gave (gives) me: keep writing.
“It’s a hui bug, it’s a hui bug,” and she jumped up on a chair.
When the fuss died down, I found that a hui bug was one they’d often encounter on the marae. Not quite sure what conditions cockroaches like, I squash at least 3 or 4 every two weeks or so.
I suspect yours was quite a bit bigger than the ones I squash, and probably a lot bigger than Angela’s ‘hui bug’.
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Ha ha I encountered a huhu beetle one time. The lights were turned out and the sound of a small aeroplane started up in the bedroom. Six young ladies sharing accommodation were quickly reduced to blithering messes as one of us tried to catch it. We all laughed about it later but in the dark of no street lights rural Central Otago, it was nerve wracking!
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