As mentioned in one of my last posts, Erik and I recently spent six days
in Jamaica. I actually started writing this while we were on
our trip and made little notes along the way so I would remember
everything I wanted to write about. As I sit here today finishing it, huge snowflakes are falling outside and I am home from work
on an
unexpected snow day. Arlo is napping, and I am wrapped from
head to toe in a large quilt. Here is hoping the memories of sun, sand,
and 80 degree weather can somehow warm me up on this frigid winter day.
Also, this is officially the longest post I have ever written. It's
more of a short story than a blog post. I never intended to make it
this long, but every time I thought about cutting out something that
happened, I realized that I wanted to remember it all. So, that being
said, here goes...
I am being honest, Jamaica was not quite what I expected it to
be. Although I didn’t really know
what to expect being that we took the trip at such short notice and I didn't really have time to research the area that we visited, Negril, Jamaica. Erik and I spent six days there, and here are the details of our crazy adventure.
Day
1: Our flight left RDU airport at 6:20am on a Sunday, meaning we
had to be up by 3:45am and out the door by 4:15am. Fortunately,
it was a rather uneventful flight to Miami, and then another
uneventful flight onto Montego Bay, Jamaica. We landed
just before noon, at Sangster International Airport. Flying
in was just as my co-worker told me it would be – looking out the
window you can see nothing but clear blue water. It looks
as if you are going to land directly into the ocean and at the very
last minute, seconds before the wheels touch down, the land becomes
visible and soon after the plane slows down in what seems to be
record time. Since we carried on all of our luggage, we bypassed baggage claim and headed straight for immigration and customs.
My
heart was racing as we approached immigration. I
realized when we booked our trip just two weeks prior, that I had
never updated my passport with my married name. Even
with expedited service (and a hefty additional processing fee) it was
likely
that my new passport wouldn’t arrive in time for the trip. After
consulting our trusty friend Google, it was determined that if we
booked my plane ticket under my maiden name, we should have no
problems. As long as my passport matched my ticket, no
one should be any the wiser. I smiled and Erik made jokes
with the lady behind the immigration counter as I tried to remain calm
and collected, and as soon as I knew it we were on our way to the other
side… whew!
Now comes the point that I wish I could
press the rewind button and go back in time to re-do this part of our
trip. Immediately past immigration was a currency exchange
window. The sweet girl standing in front of the
window smiled at us and said – “exchange your money here, no fees!” Even
thought we had been told by the place we were staying that no
exchange was really necessary, the currency exchange girls told us
that we get a better rate for things if we pay in Jamaican. Plus, the
exchange rate had to be government set and standard everywhere,
right? We exchanged most of the cash we brought to start
the trip, which was $245, into a little over $23,000 Jamaican –
wow, we were suddenly rich! Later on, as we were checking
into the place we were staying for the trip, we learned that the airport currency exchange is
considered a “business” and gives you a lower rate than other
places in town will. They gave us $95 Jamaican dollars to
every US dollar, and the Cambio in town would have given us around
$119 Jamaican for each US dollar. Live and learn!
After
we made the not-so-wise decision of exchanging our money, we exited
out to the taxi/bus area to catch a Juta bus to Negril. It
is called a bus service, but they are really just basic passenger vans which
seat around nine people. We hopped inside the van they
directed us to and started chatting with the other two people already
inside, a young couple who looked to be about our age. After
learning they were from the Midwest and discussing our backgrounds in
further detail, it was learned that the male half of the couple went
to the same high school as Erik. Which would have been
less of a coincidence if they hadn’t gone to a small, all-boy,
private Catholic school in a small Michigan town, him graduating just
a few years after Erik did. As we were discussing this and
laughing about the whole thing, a local with a thick Jamaican accent
opened the van door and started chatting with us. When we explained the high school story he looked
like we had told him we just landed from Mars and said only “what.
the. fuck.” More laughter ensued, and then he told us
that Jamaica was the place to “have sex, make baby, get high, and
drink.” I later learned he was probably asking us if we
wanted to buy weed but we didn’t give him the answer he was looking
for so he moved on.
Once the other passengers joined us and we
were ready to go, I quickly learned about the most dangerous thing in Jamaica. Although there were posted speed limits on the
roadside, it didn’t seem as if any traffic rules whatsoever were
actually enforced. The narrow two lane road from Montego
Bay to Negril followed the coast the entire time, providing a
beautiful scenic drive with small mountains on the left and clear, blue
ocean on the right. It would have been a relaxing drive
had the whole thing not been like something out of a Jamaican race
car video game. For starters, they drive on what us
Americans consider the “wrong side" of the road. Every time
I looked to the side to enjoy the view and then turned to glance out
the front window my heart skipped a beat when I saw cars flying at us
in the right-hand lane. I quickly became thankful that I
had chosen to buckle my seat belt which seemed to be completely
optional in this strange, new land. Besides the brain
trickery that comes with being on the wrong side of the street, there were
people passing in both lanes, always seeming to just narrowly miss a
car coming right for them in the opposite lane. A few
times I even saw scooters pass as another car was
in the other lane,
driving at crazy speeds down a winding road with what seemed as just
inches between it and the cars on both it’s left and right moving
in opposite directions. Did I also mention that almost
none of the scooter/motorcycle drivers were wearing
helmets?!
Besides the crazy drivers, frequent horn honking, and scenic views, the drive also consisted of
swerving around a heard of goats randomly taking a walk down the
country road, stray dogs, and passing through numerous
poverty-stricken areas. Our driver played Bob
Marley-ish Jamaican tunes, pointed out landmarks, and thankfully got
us safely to where we were staying for the week, The Negril Yoga
Center. Upon first glance, our accommodations seemed disappointingly utilitarian. Our private
hut, with a pointed metal roof which shape reminded me of a
circus tent, had a small kitchenette and bathroom off to the
side. The shower was outdoors, which we were looking
forward to, and would have probably enjoyed if we would have had hot
water when we went to shower before bed! There were many
windows in the hut, but they only had screens and wooden shutters –
no glass panes. The floor was wooden and you could
actually see through to the ground in a few places where the boards
didn’t quite meet up. Erik was immediately in love with
the place, however it took me until the next day to really warm up to it. The gardens however, were absolutely
beautiful, with winding sidewalks between the numerous small
buildings, a few commons areas, and a large outdoor yoga studio.
After
we
unloaded our stuff in our room, we texted home to check in (yes, Arlo
was doing great my parents informed me) and then headed across the
street for our first dip in the Caribbean Sea. It was
quite windy on the day we arrived and the water was rather choppy,
kicking up sand below and clouding the usual crystal-clear waters. That didn’t stop us from enjoying the water,
although we didn’t stay long, having grown hungry for dinner
earlier than usual due our early wake-up and weird eating schedule
that day. We got cleaned up for dinner and decided to walk
into downtown Negril, and then continued on to the West End in search of
a restaurant which served Ital, vegan Jamaican
food. The manager of the yoga center tried to get us to
take a cab to dinner, but after sitting all day we were looking
forward to the walk. Heading into town was fine,
there was a sidewalk the entire length of the road and once we got
used to the numerous cars that would slow down and honk (cabs wanting
to give us a ride, or just honking at one another for various reasons) it seemed like the walk was a good idea. This
was, until we got passed downtown Negril. Then the
sidewalk disappeared and the road started winding upwards, around sharp
bends requiring us to walk in the actual street. I should explain something about Negril here. North of town, where we were staying is the famous "Seven Mile Beach", rated one of the top 10 beaches in the world. It's really 4-ish miles long, but whatever; it's beautiful. South and sort of West of town is where the famous cliffs are. This is why the road got narrow and 'windy' so quickly. After about 10-15
minutes of
this I started to get an uneasy feeling, wondering where we were and
if the restaurant was even anywhere nearby. Looking
around, we were pretty much the only non-locals in the area, and we
were surrounded by small roadside buildings and shacks. We
passed a few restaurants but none that looked like the one we were
looking for, so we finally stopped to ask a couple of ladies at a
roadside fruit stand where the West End was. “Ohhhh it’s
way down, 'bout four or five miles” they said. They then
recommended, as the Yoga Center manager had, that we take a
cab. Since we had already walked so far, taking a cab
would feel like defeat. Erik asked if there were any
vegetarian restaurants nearby. One of the ladies faces lit
up and she said “yes, back two turns in the road. Near
the Bob Marley Birthday Bash sign. Vegetarian food, very
good.” We remembered that sign as we had commented on it (it happened that his birthday was the weekend prior)
as we walked past. It was only a three or four minute walk
back in the direction which we had come from.
We
thanked the ladies and
headed back in the other direction, now happy to know we had an actual
plan and that dinner wasn't too far off. We entered into what appeared as a
large, fenced-in courtyard. There was an outdoor bar off to the left,
and a larger rectangular building off to the right. We were clearly the
only non-locals in the whole place, and I could feel the eyes of the
few people who were hanging around watch us as we walked in. We headed
to the bar and said we were looking for the vegetarian restaurant.
"It's right here!" the lady said. "
Where?" I thought. Outside?
Next to this bar? As it turns out, yep - it was an outdoor restaurant
(like so many others in Negril) and we were soon seated on a picnic
table between the bar and small screened-in building that served as the
kitchen. Erik mentioned that we were vegan, and the lady who came to
take our order turned around and told the guy sitting near the door that
we were "strict vegetarian." As he got up and headed in the kitchen,
she looked at us and told us that she had just placed our order. "Um,
okay." I thought. No choice here apparently. I glanced up at the
handwritten cardboard sign which hung on the side of the kitchen, and
noticed a few different dishes listed, some with tofu, some vegetables,
and some with beans. I said, "by chance, did you order the 'vegetables
with tofu chunks'?" thinking that while the word "chunks" wasn't too
appetizing, anything with tofu and vegetables usually is. She said
again, nicely but a little more sternly "I told you, I just ordered for
you!" It was pretty clear at that point that we were going to get
whatever they brought us whether we liked it or not.
Meanwhile,
one of the guys who was standing at the bar came up to us. It was
obvious after he started talking that he was the owner, or a worker, but
somehow belonged to the restaurant. He flashed us a big grin and
informed us in a thick Jamaican accent that if we wanted to "light up a
spliff" or drink any of his homemade "ganja wine" we were more than
welcome to do so. Sitting there, feeling a bit out of place in our
whiter than white, pale northerner skin, we realized that nearly
everyone around us was smoking pot. When the waitress came back to
bring our waters, Erik inquired as to what the gathering of people were
doing across the courtyard, as a large bunch were exiting the rectangular building and it looked like they were sitting up for
some kind of musical gig. "They are having a meeting to discuss the
legalization of ganja" she told us. Erik and I exchanged glances that
said the same thing "Toto, I don't believe we are in Kansas anymore." I
was informed before the trip that the use of marijuana was pretty heavy
in Jamaica, but I was under the assumption that being technically
illegal, we wouldn't see it openly used. I couldn't have been more
wrong. People in Negril smoked joints like people in the US smoke
cigarettes - pretty much any public space that they please. Here in the
US, when you are out and about and catch a whiff of pot, you look
around and wonder who is brave enough to do it openly, seeing that it
carries (depending on in which state you live) quite the punishment if
caught. By the time we left Negril, we had grown so used to it being
everywhere, it would have seemed odd if at any given time, there wasn't
the familiar smell lingering nearby.
The food they
served was very good - rice and beans, tofu, another mock meat, and a
side of veggies. One of the traditional Jamaican foods is known as
"Ital" and is for the most part, always vegan. Finding Ital and other
vegan dishes is very easy while in Jamaica, which is one of the primary
reasons we chose to visit the island. The Yoga Center had a kitchen on
site that served breakfast and lunch daily, with plenty of vegan
options. So thankfully following our plant-based diet wasn't any issue
during our trip, and every time we went out to eat, the restaurants
understood what we meant when we voiced our dietary preferences.
After
dinner, we took a taxi back to where we were staying, and then walked
across the street to the outdoor bar that was next to the beach where we
spent all of our "beach time" while on our trip. We ordered the Jamaican
rum punch (delicious but ohhhh so strong) and then watched the sunset on
the beach. Later that evening while trying to fall asleep, I felt my
first pangs of homesickness, missing Arlo, hot water, and a bedroom that
didn't have a very loud bird outside the window. When packing for the
trip I removed everything from my suitcase and purse that wasn't
absolutely
essential since we were carrying our luggage onto the plane and space
was limited, and made the terrible decision to leave my earplugs at
home. I fashioned myself a pair of earplugs out of a tampon - go ahead
and laugh, but it worked, and then tried to get some sleep. I couldn't
help but feel a little annoyed as I laid there in bed. The cold shower
and loud bird had put me in somewhat of a funk and I was disappointed
our vacation was starting out like it was. I then remembered the areas
we drove through on the way in from the airport. The people living in
tiny shacks which probably didn't have running water. The stray dogs
out scavenging for food. The mamas with their babies, children running
around next to the busy road, who knew if they had enough food to eat.
This really put things in perspective, and I had the realization that
the cute little hut we were sleeping in with its running water,
electricity, and little kitchen would be considered luxurious to them.
This not only helped me fall asleep that night, but also shifted my
attitude to one of gratefulness for the duration of the trip.
 |
| Erik and I on our first dip in the water |
Day
2: The next morning we awoke feeling rested and refreshed. We had
been able to sleep until our bodies naturally woke up, and even though
that might have only been 7:30am, to us that was sleeping in! We had
planned to start everyday with a yoga class, but Erik's back was acting
up and he wanted to skip yoga the first day. I decided I would as well,
as we were both feeling anxious to grab breakfast and head to the
beach. We ordered breakfast at the Yoga Center - they have a little
kitchen you can order at, and then can sit at any one of the many tables
in the property gardens, and they will bring your food out to you when
it's ready. Everything is fresh and made-to-order. We decided to try
the traditional Jamaican breakfast of ackee (though no Saltfish for us!),
calalou, Johnny cakes, fresh fruit, and hand-squeezed juice on the
size.
It. was. amazing. So good in fact, that we had the same exact thing every single morning until we left to come home.
 |
| breakfast every morning - ackee (looks like eggs), calalou (green veg), and Johnny cakes (breakfast biscuits) |
After
breakfast, we decided to take a quick walk into town in search of
earplugs, beach towels (we thought the center might have them but it
turns out they didn't), and shampoo (again, thought it would be
available upon arrival and it wasn't.) Downtown Negril is small but
busy. Everyone outside wants to sell you something, be it ganja,
bracelets, or a cab ride. As we were headed inside the pharmacy a man
sitting on the side of the road said "you goin' to the pharmacy? I got
your percocet right here!" "No thanks, but have you got any earplugs?"
I replied. The look he gave me in return as I walked away was one of
confusion mixed with annoyance. After visiting two separate pharmacies
and
a grocery store, there were still no earplugs to be found. I was told
when I asked the clerks that the earplugs were "finished" which I
eventually took to mean sold out.
With our towels and
shampoo in hand (those were readily available in town) we returned to
the Yoga Center to get ready for the beach. Luckily, I was able to
acquire a pair of earplugs from the main office. As we headed across
the street to the beach, we found the water to be much calmer than the
day previous. Without waves to kick up sand from the ocean floor, the
water was crystal clear and so, so blue. The temperature that day was
in the mid 80's, and we spent the next couple of hours playing in the
water and lounging on the beach. As we left the beach that afternoon,
there were a few men standing near the sidewalk we took to get back,
chopping coconuts off a tree branch. Erik was so intrigued, and it was
obvious he wanted one. One of the men said "give him a coconut!" and
remembering we hadn't brought any money with us to the beach, I let him
know that right away. People in Jamaica are always happy to help you,
give you things, or offer you a service, but always expect payment in
return - even if you didn't ask for what they were giving you. "No
problem mon - these are free!" he said. They gave us each a coconut,
after chopping off the top half to make a hole in the top to drink
from. We headed back to the center, sipping on the most delicious
coconut water I have ever tasted.
Lunch
was at a nearby Thai restaurant, and then we treated ourselves to
massages in the afternoon. The Yoga Center offers massages on site in a
small, round stone building dedicated to that purpose. Knowing that we
were going to try and schedule a second massage later in the week, we
decided to split the hour long massage into two 30 minute massages
each. After the massage, I finished my coconut water in the most
blissful state I can remember being in in a long time. Between the sun,
sand, crystal blue water, massage, and coconut water, I was dizzy with
relaxation and falling more in love with Jamaica by the minute. The
previous night became a distant memory as we settled in to what was
starting to be the vacation that I was hoping to have all along.
That
night we headed out to the West End, this time wise enough to take a
cab to get us there. We had heard a lot about a restaurant called Just
Natural, which while it does serve some fish, is primarily vegetarian.
It was around a 15 minute drive to get all the way out there, and was
somewhat of an experience just to get to. We had decided to walk the 10
or so minutes to get to town, and then catch a taxi to the restaurant.
When trying to cross the street, a local man approached us and told us
we should eat at his restaurant nearby. When we told him our plans to
head to the West End, he said we needed to take a taxi there. This,
from last night, we already knew! He literally walked out into the busy
road to stop traffic for us, called us to follow him, and walked us
across to where several cabs were lined up waiting for passengers. All
the while, he kept talking about how he liked to help Americans, how we
were "his people and his friends" and how he could help us get the
"regular rate" for our taxi fare. We quickly learned, despite their
best efforts to hide it, that the locals paid a much lower cab fare than
us tourists. Our new friend led us up to one of the cab drivers,
explained where we were going and that he should give us the regular
rate. We climbed into his cab along with two other locals, and off we
went. Erik and I were both sure he was looking for some kind of tip or
payment for his help, but as we drove off he was still smiling and
yelling about how Americans were his "people" so I don't think we upset
him by not giving him what he was looking for.
Our cab
driver clearly was not happy about the exchange that occurred before we
entered his cab, and started talking to the two other passengers in a
language that Erik and I couldn't understand. The official language of
Jamaica is English, however another English-based creole language with
West African influences known as Patois (pat-wah) is also spoken by the
locals. We heard it used often during our trip, usually by cab drivers
communicating with local passengers, seemingly so we couldn't understand
what they were saying. Erik asked the driver if he knew the guy who
was helping him, and the lady sitting next to me sighed and softly said
"oh yes." The way she said it made me think he was well-known around
the small town and this wasn't the first time he had pulled his little
stunt. Even though the cab driver seemed mildly irritated, as he
dropped us off at our destination he handed us his card and told us to
call him when we were finished. After the drive there, which started on
the main road but eventually turned off onto a side street and ended in
what seemed like the middle of nowhere, we definitely were not leaving
on foot. The drivers name was Donovan, but he went by his cabbie name
of "Prayer Key." After thanking Donovan again for the ride, he kindly told us that if a Jamaican has a nick-name, he much prefers to be called by it. Message received, and this wasn't the last time we'd see Prayer Key. He ended up becoming somewhat of an acquaintence of
ours, and we hung onto his card for the duration of the trip, calling
him several more times when we needed a ride. We didn't end up getting
the "regular rate." He asked us to just pay him whatever we wanted, and
we gave him $6 US, about twice what the locals would pay. He was a
good driver (by the crazy Jamaican standards), entertaining, and kind to
us.
Just Natural turned out to be yet another unique
dining experience for us. Except for one other couple, the place was
empty. When you walk up to the restaurant, there is a small building
with a roof, but otherwise open to the outside. This is where you place
your dinner and drink order, and then seat yourself around back of the
building. Even though we had eaten Ackee for breakfast that day, it was
so delicious we decided to order it again. All the meals come with
soup and desert, and the prices are incredibly low. I think the whole
meal, plus Erik's beer came to around $15 US. After we ordered, we were
instructed to walk "through the gardens" and find a table to eat at.
The garden seemed more like a jungle with a narrow pathway. It was dark
by this point, and the area was dimly lit by Christmas lights strung in
various directions. Tables and chairs were randomly placed throughout
the rather large garden, and we found ourselves a private little table
to sit at. The waitress brought out our dinner in three courses, soup,
main dish, and then dessert.
The meal was one of the
best we had while in Jamaica. After we ate and waited for Donovan to
come pick us up, we sat by the main building and chatted with the owner,
a sweet older woman probably in her 60's. She told us that her parents
had owned the restaurant years ago, and she had taken it over from
them. I gathered from the way she spoke about Jamaica that she, along
with many other locals we talked to during our trip, had never even left
the island. After visiting the "large" downtown grocery store that
day, and seeing the somewhat meager selection of food, limited selection
of personal care items, and overall sparsity of the stores in Negril, I
couldn't imagine living my whole life there. I couldn't help but
wonder what she would have thought if she was suddenly dropped off in
the middle of a Target store.
We arrived back at the
Yoga Center too late to catch the sunset, but still decided to head
across the street and grab a drink. Later that night, at the end of yet
another cold shower, I decided to see what would happen if I let the
cold water run for a while. We were told that day that there is no
reason our shower shouldn't have hot water, even at night. The water at the Center is
heated by solar power - not solar panels, but large rain barrel-looking
containers that are set upon the roofs of the cottages to heat directly
from the sun. Since the roof of our cottage was pointed, our hot water
was obtained by a nearby cottage, and the distance combined with the low
water pressure requires extra time to obtain hot water. I was thrilled
to discover the knobs in our shower were in fact reversed, and we were
able to enjoy hot water for the remainder of the trip. Halleluiah!
Day
3: I decided to start my day with one of the yoga classes offered at
the center. They have two per day, morning and afternoon, for $10 per
class. Erik decided to sit out since his back was still bothering him a
bit. While I did enjoy the class which focused primarily on slow
movement and body awareness, I typically practice a bit faster paced
vinyasa flow. So I figured that we might try the afternoon class the
next day, or perhaps just practice in the outdoor studio on our own
time. After yoga we had breakfast then spent the morning at the beach.
We had a big adventure planned for the afternoon, and before heading
out we grabbed a quick lunch back the Center.
 |
| outside the yoga center on our way to the beach |
At
the beach across the street from where we were staying, there was a
little building which rented out snorkels and fins, and we had planned
on trying that out until we asked the manager at the Center where she
would recommend snorkeling. She said they have a boat company they work
with that will take us out to the reef, let us snorkel, and then bring
us back, with equipment included in the cost. Well, the decision was
not difficult to make, at only $10 more per person than the beach
snorkeling we signed up right away. That afternoon, a cab picked us up
at the Center, and dropped us off at the beach where the boat was
parked. There was supposed to be another couple joining us on the trip,
but they cancelled at the last minute, and it ended up being just us on
a private boat to the reef.
The boat was like all the
others we saw cruising around the beach - a basic wooden boat painted in
fun Jamaican colors, with a glass bottom (which was really just a
window mounted in the bottom of the boat) where you could see fish,
starfish, coral, and sand during the entire trip to the reef. There
were two boatsmen (is that a word?) who took us on the trip. I had no
idea how far out the reef was, and while I was certainly enjoying the
boat ride and views through the window on the bottom of the boat, it
seemed like we were getting really far from shore. The sun had gone
behind a cloud at this point and the breeze off the ocean was starting
to make me feel chilly. I started to mildly panic in my head, wondering
how I would ever get off the boat into what seemed like the middle of
the ocean, where sharks and other dangerous sea creatures were certainly
lurking below, just waiting to attack.
 |
| boat ride to the reef |
Finally, about 20 minutes out, we had reached our destination, marked by a few small bouies. The shore still seemed
really
far away, and the sun still hadn't come back out. The two men who had
brought us out dropped the anchor and started getting the snorkeling
equipment ready. Erik started fiddling with his GoPro camera and I sat
there still wondering how in the world I was going to get up the courage
to jump into the water. With our clumsy flippers and large goggles
fitted and in place, one of the men instructed me to sit on the side of
the boat. I started telling him I was scared, giggling at the same time
so I didn't seem like a big wimp. Finally after a minute of convincing
myself that there was
probably not a shark below waiting to eat
me, I climbed down the ladder and into the ocean. Erik was readjusting
his goggles and took an extra minute to get in the water. During this
time, I looked down through my goggles and into the water for the first
time. I was in awe of what I saw. It was like I was suddenly dropped
into the middle of a tropical fish tank. Schools of bright yellow and
blue fish swam below me. The coral reef stretched from the bottom of
the sea all the way up to near the top of the water in some places. I
lifted my head back up and said to Erik "you have to see this!!!" As if
he wasn't already planning on it, ha.
We
spent close to an hour swimming and snorkeling around the reef. After
my initial view of what actually existed below us, my fear dissipated
and was soon replaced by excitement and amazement. Twice, a very large
spotted ray swam near us, and Erik was able to capture it (although with
not a very clear view) on video. The ray glided by, swimming almost
effortlessly, and although I knew I needed to keep my distance, both
times I attempted to follow him to get a closer look. We swam most of
the time with life jackets around our waist to make it easier to enjoy
the views below and help ensure our snorkels didn't end up underwater as
we were trying to take a breath, but towards the end we ditched the
life vests and swam freely among the fish. The snorkeling trip was
definitely the highlight of the trip, and I can't wait to do it again
someday.
After
we were finished snorkeling, the boat driver took us back and dropped
us off right on our beach. We swam and sunned ourselves for a bit, and
even saw another ray cruise by right off the shoreline! Had we not just
seen them out at the reef I might not have known what the large dark
sea creature was as he swam by, but I knew what it was right when I
spotted it. After the beach, we headed back to the Center and took our
first hot shower (ahhhhhhh) of the trip, and got ready to head
out for dinner. We had heard from several people (and signs around the
island) about a place called Rick's, and we decided to head out to the
West End to check it out.
I
will go on the record right here and now and express my dislike of
touristy places. They are called "tourist traps" for a reason, and
Rick's was no exception. Don't get me wrong - it was worth seeing it
once, but I don't plan on ever heading back. Rick's is a bar/restaurant
right on the high cliffs, where locals cliff dive off at amazing
heights, asking for tips before a big jump is performed. Anyone can
jump off the cliffs if they want, and there were several people who did
so while we were there. Having already experienced our adrenaline rush
of the day as we swam with the sharks harmless tropical fish, we decided to sit back, enjoy a drink, and watch the cliff divers do their thing.
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| watching the cliff divers at Ricks. and yes - this is a very rare picture of me with my hair down! |
We
had planned on eating dinner there, but seeing as they were mostly a
fish place, we figured we would just order several things from the sides
menu. When we inquired about this, they told us that was not possible,
they were only sides for an actual meal. When we explained our dietary
situation, pointing out there was not a single vegetarian meal on the
menu, they told us that fine, we could order sides, but have to pay more
for them. In the end we ended up spending around $25 for a small side
of french fries, the tiniest plate ever of chips and salsa, two bottles of water, and a Red Stripe for Erik. Like I said - tourist. trap.
We didn't stay too long, as we wanted to head back to our beach to
relax, grab a reasonably priced drink, and watch the sun set from the
comfort of reclining beach chairs. Which is exactly what we did.
Day
4: The next morning we awoke early and decided to practice yoga in the
outdoor studio on our own. We arrived a little after 7:30am
anticipating that it would be empty, but was surprised to find a class
already in progress, with about six or so students in attendance. They
asked if we wanted to join in, and we decided to do so. At the end of
the class (90 minutes of power flow which completely kicked my ass) I
learned that the whole class was a group of school teachers who had come
together from Massachusetts. The girl who was leading the class had
just graduated from yoga teacher training and was offering free classes
every morning while they were staying there. Huzzah! I made a plan
then and there to be up early every morning for her class.
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| lovely outdoor yoga studio at the Center |
So
I am now actually typing this nearly two weeks after our trip has
ended, and since I blanked out on making notes about this day, I can't
really remember the details. I know it included the beach, and at some
point we walked into town to a fruit stand where we picked up the most
amazing locally grown fresh fruits. Oh - we also went to the grocery
store and bought the supplies for popcorn. Our little cottage had a
kitchen with a gas stove, and the previous few nights we had wished we
had more snacks around. That evening we went out to eat dinner at the
Hungry Lion, and although I can't remember what we had, I know the meal
was excellent. If you are ever in Negril - stop in there for a bite!
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| fresh fruits from the market. coconuts were picked from a tree at the Yoga Center |
That
evening we ended up hanging out with the group of teachers from the
yoga class, and two other guys staying at the Center who we had already
got to know a bit. Erik and I popped up a huge batch of popcorn and
brought it out to the commons area to share with everyone. Each night
after returning home from dinner or the bar across the street we choose
to stay inside the gates of the Yoga Center for the remainder of the
evening. Negril is not a place where you would want to be walking
around by yourself late at night. I should say that we didn't hear first-hand of anything happening to tourists, or even second-hand, but rather it's the idea of being strangers (with money) in a strange land at night. It was widely encouraged to take taxis to anywhere near or through downtown at night. The Center had a locked gate and a
nighttime security guard, and we felt very safe there.
Day
5: Our last full day on the island. After staying up too late, the
7:15am alarm I had set the day prior for yoga came awfully early. I
didn't want to get up but Erik encouraged me to, and I was glad that he
did. I could tell the other girls who had stayed out until something
like 3am were also dragging that morning, so I was happy when the
teacher announced that we would only be practicing for 60 minutes
instead of 90, and that the class would be a bit less intense than the
day previous. This was great news, since all I really felt like doing
was laying on my yoga mat and practicing savasana the whole hour, ha.
After
our usual breakfast of ackee and calalou, we headed to the beach to
find that the water was a bit rough due to some winds that had blown in
the night prior. We opted to lay on the beach most of the morning and
read. I finally finished Wild (so, so good!) and also got myself a
pretty bad sunburn on both legs. I had planned on swimming so I didn't
put any sunblock on my lower half, and sure paid the price for it later
that day. Erik actually finished his book as well. I say actually because he has been reading the same Bill Bryson book for a year and a half. He doesn't pick it up often so he felt quite accomplished to finish it and move onto the book he purchased at the airport, which he hasn't picked up again since that day on the beach.
Since it was our last full day in Jamaica, we
decided to treat ourselves to one last big hurrah before we headed home
the next day. One of the other visitors at the Yoga Center who had
visited many times before, recommended a spa on the West End, called
Jackie's on the Reef. We had planned on one more massage before we left,
so we figured this would be a great place to go to get it. We were
informed that in addition to the usual spa amenities, they also had a
chef on-site who could cook us a vegan meal after our massages, so we
booked appointments for 3pm with plans to eat dinner afterwards.
The
cab ride to Jackies was longer than we thought it would be. We ended
up on a long dirt road which the cab driver informed us used to be a
runway that planes would use for drug smuggling. The drive took about
30 minutes, but upon arrival it became immediately obvious that it was
worth the long (and therefore expensive) cab trip. If I had to envision
paradise, it pretty much looks like Jackies on the Reef. Go
here and check out pictures, and if you ever find yourself in Jamaica you simply
must
treat yourself to an afternoon here. The massage appointments prior to
ours were running a bit over, so we had some time to explore the spa
and enjoy the views. Jackies on the Reef is a large, open to the
outdoors building, which sits directly on the ocean. There are several
wide, pillow-covered bamboo cots to lounge on, and we choose to lay
down, enjoy some cucumber water, and listen to the ocean while we
waited. Had I known what it was going to be like, I would have wanted
to arrive an hour earlier than we did just so we could lounge around and
enjoy the place for even longer.
We had booked a couples massage, and
we had hoped it would be side by side. What I didn't expect was for it
to be right on the cliffs. A little thatched hut where the property
meats the ocean housed two massage tables, and this is where the
masseuses led us to when they were ready for us.
Heaven. That
was where I felt like I had suddenly landed. It was almost so surreal I
didn't think it was really happening, and during the massage I kept
thinking "is this really where we are? how can this be?"
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| view from inside the massage hut |
After
our massages we went to the little outdoor kitchen to order our
dinners. Erik stepped away for a moment and the chef came out to talk
to me. Her accent was thick and I had a hard time understanding, but I did clearly hear something about pasta, corn, and vegetables. Erik came back
and joined me, and together we watched through the kitchen screen as she
plated up two dishes. Erik had mentioned on the phone that we would
want a vegan meal after our massages, but we had no idea they were
taking it upon themselves to create the dish, and have it ready for us
when we were done. The chef emerged with two plates in her hands, set
them down in front of us, and said "I hope I don't disappoint you." We probably appeared a bit confused, but decided to roll with it and just eat
what she had cooked. My goodness, it would have been a shame if we
hadn't. Perhaps it was the post-massage euphoria, but we both agreed
that it was not only the best thing we had eaten on the island, but one
of the better meals we had ever had in our lives. We ate together on
the large stone porch of the spa, watching the waves crash on the rocks. Pretty much the best end to a vacation that we could ask for.
Day
6: Since it was our last day on the island and we were leaving for the
airport around 11am, I wanted to be sure I didn't miss out on our last
opportunity for yoga with the girls. It was yet another energizing
class, and I felt so grateful that their trip had lined up with ours.
It really allowed me to have the yoga experience I was hoping to while
we were there. The rest of the morning was spent taking a quick walk to
the beach to bid the ocean farewell, and packing up our stuff. The
details of the trip home are boring and not much worth mentioning. It
was a long day of travel and included somewhere around six hours of
sitting in airports waiting for our plane. Fortunately, the rest of the
day was uneventful, and we landed just before midnight. Erik had
flat-out refused to show up in Jamaica wearing pants, and didn't bring a
single pair with him on the trip. So when we arrived home to a
snow-covered ground and temperatures in the high teens, needless to
say Erik was pretty darn cold. We probably looked pretty silly running
out of the airport wrapped in our brightly colored beach towels, but by
that point we were exhausted and in a hurry to see our little man, even
if he was fast asleep when we finally arrived home around 1:00am.
Overall,
the trip to Jamaica was not what I had expected, but in so many ways better than I could have wanted it to be. Going someplace new and
really immersing myself in the local culture is quite the step out of my
comfort zone, but wonderfully eye-opening at the same time. The couple
who we shared the Juta bus with on the way to the Yoga Center the day
we had arrived, said they had visited Jamaica before and had a great
experience. They also mentioned that they had never left their resort
during that trip. I thought of them several times while we were there
and wondered how many other people travel someplace and never leave
their resorts. Can you really get the feel of a new place without
exploring all that it has to offer?
Many things
surprised me on our trip. The biggest thing was probably the driving. I
had never been to a place that had such loose traffic laws in place.
At one point I saw a woman get off a motorcycle taxi in town, with a
baby no older than five months old in her arms, and another child of
maybe four years old who had sat in front of the driver. None of them
wore helmets or safety gear of any kind. In the local news this week I
heard about parents who are being charged with child neglect because
they let their pre-adolescent children walk home from the park alone (
gasp). And in Jamaica there are babies riding motorcycles with no helmets. Let's get some perspective, people.
As
far as the food, I was surprised at the availability of vegan dishes,
and how everyplace we went people understood what you meant when you
said vegan. We also noticed that they season their dishes with far less
salt than we are accustomed to. Ital food has
no salt, and it certainly influences other cuisine on the island. Definitely healthier, but took some
getting used to. Especially when there were not salt shakers readily
available on the table. The people were friendly everywhere we went,
and everyone actually said "yeah mon" all the time, just like in the
movie Cool Runnings! By the end of the trip I found myself wanting to
say it back. We definitely plan to visit the Caribbean again, and
although I loved Jamaica and think of it as a very unique place, I think
we would travel to a different island next time. See something new,
but still swim in that beautiful, crystal clear ocean. And on that
trip, you better believe I will
not be forgetting my earplugs...
A big thank-you to Erik for taking the time to proof read and edit this entire post, adding in some of his thoughts and memories (and for removing all of the completely unnecessary parenthesis I too often use.)
