Bermuda

What's magical about Bermuda is the way the sky keeps its promises. You arrive by sea — the island rising out of the Atlantic like a rumour you've heard all your life — and before the afternoon is out, a rainbow arches straight over the Dockyard as if the island were formally welcoming you. From a hilltop, the harbours and white rooftops scatter below like spilled pearls, and at day's end the whole Atlantic burns gold in a sunset that makes the horizon look rehearsed. Evenings onboard glow just as bright, all colour and ease, a dress in sunset hues leaning against the twilight. Bermuda does not rush you. It simply promises you light — and keeps delivering it, arc after arc, hour after hour.