Jamaica

The barman flashed his whiter than white teeth in a wide grin as I confidently asked for ‘Sex On The Beach’, the cocktail that is, and listened to that unique Jamaican drool as he stated the population’s two favourite words “No problem”. Yes, after months of anticipation and a long, space-restricted ten hour flight, we  had finally arrived in Jamaica and were planning to make the most of our two week stay in the Star Fish Resort situated in Trelawny. Our large group of twelve consisted of family and friends and we were here primarily for the wedding of two of those friends, Mandy and Ray. They had decided to combine wedding and honeymoon together. Needless to say that this arrangement suited us, the guests and bridesmaids, down to the ground! What better excuse than to go on holiday because you have to attend a wedding?

It was my first time in Jamaica and I found myself instantly mesmerised by the green and yellow tones of its scenery along with the startling turquoise blue of the Caribbean Ocean, not to mention the welcoming hospitality of the Nation’s Citizens. Everything seemed to be perfect, from our all-inclusive holiday package to the resort itself and the many activities and sights it had to offer us over the next two weeks. Everything that was, until I made my way, cocktail in hand to the beach bonfire party organised by the resort for its guests. I started to feel that irritating itch around my ankles that could only mean one thing, I had been bitten by the dreaded mosquito. One bite is not an issue in itself but when you are severely allergic like me to any insect bite then you had a problem! But determined not to let the mosquitoes and sand flies alike ruin my holiday spirit, I ignored the urge to scratch my skin off. Tilting my head up to the dark sky and admiring the brightness of its shining stars, which seemed to stretch on past eternity, I lost myself within the swaying beats of Bob Marley blaring from the stage speakers. The gentle breeze made the palm tree leaves rustle along with the music and the smell of the ocean’s salty air flared my nostrils with delight. I was prepared to savour every moment of my time on holiday, as the saying  goes, time sure does fly by when you’re having fun!

The next day I woke up with a well deserved hangover and thirty two insect bites up my left leg! (Yes, I counted them.) It was eight in the morning and the normal thing to do would be to go straight back to sleep but I find when you are on holiday, the norm goes out the window and the extra-ordinary kicks in. I dragged myself from my bed, put my bikini on and made my way, slowly, to the breakfast bar. I scanned the food they had on offer, which went from traditional Jamaican to full cooked English but due to the current fragility of my stomach, I opted for a simple coffee. I met up with Mandy who was also the worse for wear and we strolled casually to the pool area where, much to our surprise, twelve deck chairs with towels all laid out had been especially prepared for us by Fitzroy. He was one of the pool attendance men/ life guard and every morning thereafter he would prepare our ‘space’ by the pool. I must say, he looked after us very well and earned himself an invitation to the wedding that was to take place in four days on the resort’s premises.

My hangover soon subsided as I relaxed under the burning sun. Even at that time in the morning it was a heat wave and a shrill went down my spine as I thought of all my friends back in England either making their way to work or cuddled up in their beds trying to keep the cold February weather out. They say that the best time to go to Jamaica is February or October, to avoid the hurricane seasons.

  Although the heat was scorching there seemed to always be a constant breeze that made it bearable to laze in the sun all day long sipping cocktail after cocktail. Hard, I know! But be warned for all future Jamaica visitors, that breeze is deceiving. You may not always feel the sun burn your skin but be sure that it is definitely burning as my fellow travellers soon found out! So make sure you lather yourself with sun cream of high factor and keep a cap on your child’s head. The reflection  of the sun against my brothers’ sunglasses burnt their cheeks red raw, bless them!

  After a morning of pure relaxation and recovery from the previous night, we decided to get a local taxi to the town of Falmouth and visit the local outdoor market. It was an experience I was not about to forget. The first thing I observed was the way they drove. As a careful driver myself, I was shocked yet amused at how there seemed to be no highway code. The only thing that seemed to be respected was what side of the road you should be driving on! There were no traffic lights and people communicated not through indicator lights but through continuous beeping of the horn.

  Entering the town of Falmouth everyone couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the clean, luxurious resort and the state of poverty in the real Jamaica. The realisation hit me that we were, in fact, in a Third World country. Groups of children ran along holding their hands out for change while the outdoor market merchants tried to make a living from the passing tourists. Each stall seemed to be the same, with each owner trying to persuade you to buy from them rather than the others. At first this left opportunity for bargain but towards the end you felt more intimidated to buy rather than persuaded to buy. We left the market after a gruelling couple of hours of price debating and reluctant money spending then caught a taxi back to the safe confines of our resort. The taxi driver, I noticed with a chill running down my spine, had a Machete Knife stashed down the side of the driver’s door.

  The next day we arranged to go to Dunn’s River Falls, one of Jamaica’s most visited sights, where we had the opportunity to climb the cascading water fall. Our guide was a native resident and a volunteer. We each rented a pair of water sandals, which are mandatory for the climb, and set off down the side path that lead us to the bottom of the falls. There is something dearly mesmerising about the sound of water crashing against the many nooks and crannies of the waterfall’s rocky structure. I stood and looked up towards the impressive climb that lay ahead and prepared myself for what I considered ’a mission’. The guide, full of smiles and interesting facts, made us form a line and hold each others’ hands. I felt like a school kid about to cross the road but as we set off up the falls I was soon thankful to the people in front and behind me as they kept my balance and saved me many times from joining the cascades! The guide was very efficient and pointed out with particular care as to where we should place each foot in order to avoid the many deep holes that constituted Dunn’s River Falls and with each new platform we reached he made us stand under the falling water for those essential memorable photos. We also had the pleasure of discovering the few hidden slides and were formally ’baptised’ in the lime stone imbued water, which for future interest does wonders for your hair! The climb took around one hour to complete but was well worth the time. I left there drenched, with a smile bigger than that of a Cheshire cat, a silky feel to my skin and the urge to do it all over again.

  We then took a leisurely stroll around Ocho Rios where we relaxed with a cold beer in hand and let the blazing sun dry us off before our return to the resort.

  The next day I decided to take a wonder around Bamboo Village. You can guess by the name that this village was made essentially out of bamboo. It constituted of many huts selling touristy souvenirs and was located just off the resort’s private beach. I went there in search of something to wear that would protect me against the agonising prospect of being eaten alive once more but could not linger long as the sand flies seemed to be in the mood the finish the job properly. I hastily made my way along the beach itching at my fast swelling legs when I was approached by two Jamaicans holding some green plant in their hands. They took one look at my legs and smiled that knowing smile as they split the plant vertically and scooped a handful of clear gunk into their hands. They told me it was Aloe Vera and was excellent for insect bites. By this time I was prepared to try anything. They smoothly lathered my legs with sticky gunk as I stood slightly embarrassed but grateful for the refreshing tingle that the natural substance produced and in an act of kindness that I rarely see in good old Britain, they gave me the plant free of charge and told me to use it frequently.

  It’s now the evening before the wedding and us girls are fretting over whether we can still fit in our dresses after all the cocktails and food that has been passing through our system over the last week. The disadvantages of having an all-inclusive package deal whereby, without the monetary restraint, you just can’t resist the tantalizing smell of fresh Jamaican pasties or the tempting prospect of yet another cocktail.

Tonight we have arranged to go see the Luminous Lagoon in Falmouth. This lagoon has microscopic organisms that emit a phosphorescent light when the water is agitated. In less technical terms, the water glows in the dark when disturbed. We depart at dusk on a small fishing-like boat and the air has a magic feel to it as we observe the trail of luminosity left by the boats engine. Our guides collected some water into a bucket and swirled it around with a stick resulting in an eerie light shinning out of the bucket. We all peered over as if looking at a pot of gold found at the end of a rainbow. The guide then told us that if you drank too much of the water if turned your pee luminous, not that anyone in their right mind would voluntary want to drink the murky waters! We were then allowed to jump into the 4-5 feet deep lagoon and take a little night swim. The water was surprisingly warm and as my feet touched the muddy bottom I was taken aback by its slimy and almost surreal texture. It felt like something supernatural had formed a cloak around my ankles and in fear of being pulled under, although there was no real danger there, I quickly withdrew my legs up to my chin and watched as the movements of my arms made a halo like circle around my body.

  It’s the wedding day and I’m holding my breath in order to zip the side of my dress up without busting the seems. I just about manage it when I realise that I’ve still got to bend over and force my sandals on my oversized bitten feet. I’ve taken to walking with a limp over the past few days as my left foot is twice the size it should be. Rubbing the Aloe Vera gel liberally I luckily manage to squeeze my foot in knowing I won’t be able to get it off again any time soon. The wedding takes place on a specially decorated gazebo on the edge of the beach and as us bridesmaids walk down the aisle in rhythm to Bob Marley’s ’One Love’ our focus is drawn to the crashing waves before us. We watch and listen as the nearly married couple say their vows gazing lovingly into each others’ eyes. Once the deed done we all cheer and throw confetti before the professional photographer, supplied by the resort, spends the next hour or so posing everyone for yet some more memorable photos. The photos done, we then head to the banquette area, clad with piano bar and champagne for some well deserved wedding cake. We watch merrily as the bride and groom feed each other cake and seal the ritual with a kiss and quickly pass on  to the speeches. Teary eyes and sounds of laughter complete the celebratory mood as it is now time to get changed into ‘evening dress’ and grace the in-house four star restaurant with our slightly tipsy presence.

  As the dearly wedded decide it is time to retire to their nuptial bed, we the dearly drunk decide to take a trip to Montego Bay and visit the well established Margarita Ville. The resort, always concerned with its guests well fare, provide us with a bus and two escorts to take us to and from the club. Montego Bay is fascinating at night, with its bright lights, people filled streets and hotels and clubs aligning the bay. The staff are friendly and the DJ does an excellent job at creating the atmosphere by blaring the latest Hip Hop and Jamaican vibes through his sound system. The time flies by and before we know it, it’s time to depart but returning to the hotel we decide not to waste the night and take a relaxing dip in the hot tubs hidden within a circle of green trees. The steam rises into the air and my eyes follow only to gaze insatiably at the magnificent star scattered sky and I sigh with content wishing that I didn’t have to leave in a few days. But with every thing that begins, it also has to end so we spend the last remaining days making the most of the sun and buying those last souvenirs and obligatory presents for our friends at home.

  The dreaded day has come where we morosely pack our bags, forcing the zips shut and head to the bar for a last look over the Caribbean Ocean and a last goodbye cocktail (Of course!) It’s Valentine’s Day and the resort is buzzing with activities of card making and poem reading. They also have a competition whereby couples would paint their partner’s bodies and the singletons in the public would judge the winner. It made for good entertainment while we waited for our bus to take us to the airport. We say our goodbyes to the many friends made in our two week stay and I can’t help shed a tear on the bus as I take one last look at the surrounding beauty of Jamaica, a small paradise contained within the laws of poverty but truly a ’one Love’.