According to our hotel's website, they provide a complimentary shuttle from the airport that merely requires booking with the concierge a day before your arrival. But, as I discovered, information about this service should also be included in the phantom stagecoach section of "Myths and Legends of Old Bermuda."
The concierge was very vague when I spoke to him over the phone. Yes, he had once heard tell of such a thing when sitting around a camp fire late at night, but nobody had actually ever seen the shuttle service.
But it has its own pop-up window on your website's homepage, I explained.
Some guests have regaled TripAdvisor with weird tales of a minibus and strange comings and goings, he replied dismissively, but it's best to ignore the ravings of jet-lagged lunatics. These crazy tourists also claim to have witnessed instant room upgrades and free WiFi, he added, but no-one in their right mind believes such superstitious nonsense.
So apparently the Bermuda Triangle has moved inland and our hotel's complimentary shuttle service from the airport is lost within its misty, isoscelesian confines. I imagine that the concierge is just afraid to admit this disturbing fact to his guests, since such paranormal activity might scare the golfers and honeymooners off. But I don't mind. The mistier and creepier the better as far as I'm concerned. Bring on the fog. It will suit my browning mood much better than cyan skies, blue seas and and pink sand.