The term, '(X) years young', when applied to someone who patently isn't, can come across as patronising, insincere or simply a polite way of glossing over the undeniable. When it comes to nonagenarian Margaret Rookes, however, it is an understatement, for not only is she physically and mentally sharp but also has a real zest for life.

Spend just five minutes in her company and it is obvious, from her twinkling eyes and ready smile, that Mrs. Rookes revels in each day's joys and adventures

At home in Michigan, where she lives with her daughter Patricia and son-in-law Greg, and is the family cook and dog minder, she spends 90 minutes three times a week working out in a gym with her pals. In Bermuda she has no trouble walking up and down the 39 high steps from her beach cottage to the sparkling sea and sand below.

Visiting Bermuda with Patricia and Greg for a week of tripping down memory lane, the remarkable 95-year-old former resident has quite a tale to tell, as Lifestyle's Nancy Acton discovered.

With Michigan in the grip of winter in 1935, two young university students decided it would be a lark to work in Bermuda, so they wrote to Mr. Gray, the American head waiter at the luxurious Hamilton Hotel and enclosed a photograph. He liked what he saw, and they duly arrived aboard the Queen of Bermuda at the end of January, naive to the ways of the hospitality industry, but excited nonetheless.

Housed in the staff dormitory at the back of the Church Street landmark, the duo shared a small, sparsely furnished room. As apprentice waitresses, they first perfected their skills waiting on Mr. Gray and two dining room captains before being let loose on the guests.

"The dining room was beautiful. We had to serve the roast beef au jus, moving it from the platter on a trolley to the dinner plate. It was quite a feat," Margaret Rookes remembers. "We had different guests for a whole week. Once, the entire Harvard rugby team came, and we had to wait on them. They ordered everything on the menu! We were just wrecks by the time they left but they were gentlemen .

"Meanwhile, the staff food was so bad that the French chefs slipped the two waitresses desserts under the counter. A good meal was something they could only dream about on their wages until Margaret went on a blind date with the man who became her knight in shining armour.

"His name was Harry Rookes, and he was an accountant at Neave, whose offices were on the second floor of Gosling's 'Victoria Block' on the corner of Front and Queen Streets," Mrs. Rookes recalls. "Because we had such awful food and were so hungry, at night he took my friend and I for bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches at the Blue Moon restaurant. It proved to be a case of 'love at first bite', for that simple of act of kindness blossomed into romance "right away".

"And I still make bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches," Mrs. Rookes laughs.

Tall, dark and handsome, her British suitor was a multi-talented man who loved photography, literature, writing and composing poetry. He was also an artist, and in the 1930s wrote film and theatre reviews for The Royal Gazette and Colonist Daily, as well as a regular column under the nom-de-plume 'Blarney Stone'. Shortly after they met, he gave Margaret 'The CompleteWorks of William Shakespeare' for her birthday.

With each passing day their love grew, but time was running out before the students' jobs ended in April and they would return home.

"Harry and I loved to dance in the various hotels, so on St. Patrick's Day we went to a ball at the Bermudiana. We had little green hats, and a horn which I still have to this day. He asked me to marry him and I said 'yes'."

When departure day arrived at the end of April, the smartly dressed Margaret boarded the Queen of Bermuda carrying a spray of Easter lilies - a parting gift from her fiancé. It would be four months before the young lovers were reunited; in the meantime, they corresponded regularly.

"I used to sit on the porch waiting for the mail," Mrs. Rookes notes

Finally, at the end of August, Mr. Rookes arrived for a two-week holiday at Margaret's family home in Ann Arbor, Michigan, during which they decided to get married and return to Bermuda together. With no time to prepare for a lavish wedding, and the closest church under construction, the couple exchanged their vows in the presence of family and friends at Cranbrook Cathedral in Birmingham, Michigan.

The following day, the relatives gathered again at Detroit airport to see the newlyweds off to Bermuda via New York and the Queen of Bermuda. The presence of Eleanor Roosevelt in Detroit threw traffic into disarray, making the couple late, and the families anxious. However, the airline held the plane for them, and finally they were airborne.

Aware that the Rookes were newlyweds, the captain banked his aircraft over Niagara Falls so they could see the spectacle.

"Now we could say we'd been to Niagara Falls on our honeymoon, although we had that on the ship coming to Bermuda," Mrs. Rookes says.

Once back here, the couple lived at 'El Mirasol', a cottage on the corner of Point Finger and Berry Hill Roads. Later, they acquired a dog named Terry who, despite his cuteness, was a chicken killer for which the couple had to pay their owner ten shillings for each feathered fatality.

Life was certainly very different for the new bride from America, but she adapted quickly and loved it.

"I never worked again, so I had lots of time," she recalls. "I spent a lot of time swimming at Grape Bay. Our cottage had lots of poinsettias, oleanders and big trees in the garden. It was completely enclosed, and we were very happy.

"The rent was five pounds a month, and we had a push mower. There were no houses on Berry Hill Road, it was like a country lane, and I remember walking along it in the mornings. It was wonderful.

"I loved to bicycle, so I went to town every day to get bread and whatever else I wanted. We had a safe (a screen wire and wood food storage cupboard), with the legs sitting in oil (to stop the ants from crawling up). We had no refrigerator, and I remember the tinned milk, which I used but didn't drink. Our meat was tenderloin steaks. They must have been expensive, but that's what we ate. Being British, my husband loved kippers, but I'd never cooked them before. When I opened the package and saw those eyes staring at me, I had to chop the heads off. I remember making a face, but I did it.

"I also learned to use a washboard. I went to the library every day, and read all the classics. There were no cars then. People from the States would ask me if I missed them, but I didn't. Harry also loved to bicycle, so we went all over the Island, with Terry in the basket. Harry was a wonderful photographer, and took lots of pictures."

On many an evening, dressed in their finery, the couple went dancing at places like Belmont Manor, with Mrs. Rookes travelling on the crossbar of her husband's bicycle. They also loved to sit on the stone walls and talk.

"I remember sitting on a wall in the moonlight, and the scent of the night blooming cereus was permeating the whole area. I will never forget that night. It was so beautiful. "

Mrs. Rookes also recalls the men wearing white linen suits to work every day, which had to be washed, starched and ironed by hand.

In 1937, the couple decided it was time to say goodbye to their little island paradise, and begin anew in the United States. Leaving on the Queen of Bermuda ahead of her husband, Mrs. Rookes rocked and rolled her way through a hurricane but was never sick or missed a meal.

Settling in Ann Arbour, Michigan she continued to be a housewife, while her husband worked first for Argus cameras and then as an assessor for the city. The arrival of their only daughter, Patricia, completed the family.

The couple never forgot Bermuda, however, and made a return trip when their daughter was 12. The years passed, and when Patricia went to college Mrs. Rookes took her first-ever job at the University of Michigan's School of Dentistry, where she remained for 12 years.

In 1994 her beloved Harry died at the age of 81, and again her memories turned to Bermuda. Among her many treasures is a Bermuda scene painted by her husband, meticulously kept albums of photographs and cuttings, and the Imperial Service Medal presented to her father-in-law by King George V. He served at the Dockyard from 1908-37, and was instrumental in saving the floating dock, "at considerable personal risk", which broke loose in the September 5, 1905 hurricane.

"I always thought I would like to come back, so last year Pat and her husband Greg said they were going to bring me here in 2008. Well, I was 94 and I thought, 'I'll be 95 and too old.' When you get older you think, 'How will I get around? How will we do all the things we did if we didn't have a taxi?' and I certainly couldn't ride a moped."

As it turned out, Mrs. Rookes need not have worried for she is not only hale and hearty but also blessed with energy and drive.

Staying at Grape Bay Cottages has been a dream come true for her and her family, and they have toured from one end of the Island to the other in a series of half-day taxi tours, reviving memories and revisiting old haunts. Mrs. Rookes was tickled to knock on the door of her old residence, where the current owner kindly welcomed her in to reminisce. Naturally, there have been a lot of changes in the intervening years, some of which have left her astonished.

"I can't believe Berry Hill Road today, every little piece of land is used. The traffic and the number of cars horrifies me. But Grape Bay is still the same with its turquoise waters, beautiful sands, palm trees. I love the cottages with the white roofs. Harry and I travelled a lot. We went to Jamaica, Aruba, Trinidad, Tobago and Saba, but none of them compare with Bermuda. The Island is the same basically and I will always love it."