Judging by the numbers, the scant, seahorse-shaped archipelago seems to specialize in two things: making people money, and making people with money happy. It's trying to rebrand itself as a sporty island getaway for the younger set -- more on that later -- but for generations it has been where the words "off-shore" and "haven" get friendly. This perhaps explains why I only lasted 10 minutes on Bermudian soil before a local told me that America, like Bermuda, should do away with income taxes. That's not so unusual in itself, but it was notable, perhaps, that it was my cabbie making this pitch.
The territory's lax regulatory structure makes it a perpetual hotspot for global wealth and finance. This of course means that it's absolutely beautiful, down to the metallic baitfish in the crystal-clear waterways that give them that Harry Winston sparkle. And it means about 90% of the world can't even afford to cop a slight buzz there. I'm accustomed to New York prices and even I nearly cried when a bartender told me I owed $12 for a Brooklyn Lager. Don't be afraid to ask about prices; you can afford it, just in moderation. I can't say the same if you sail past Michael Bloomberg's waterfront palace and wonder, 'What does a place like that go for, anyway?'