Jamaica

Unlike a lot of people on the boat, we were very excited to get to Jamaica (though still sad to miss out on the Caymans and Stingrays!), especially Jo who had missed the evening in Cuba. Apparently however, there is a lot of crime in Jamaica and this meant many people were scared of going out that night – we were surprised at how many people stayed on the boat when they had such an interesting and vibrant place just beyond the port hole…

After being warned many times over to not venture beyond the tourist district, to not wear jewellery, to not go off alone & to be afraid… to be very afraid.

So we went off on our own and hopped into a taxi (not really on our own, we shared the taxi with 7 other cruisists) to take us to the Hip Strip, who all wanted to be picked up at 8 – we weren’t sure if we’d join them as we wanted to explore and see what was on offer, other than the Pork Pit, which a customs lady told us was the best place to go for food…

Well, we were more than a little peckish, so went off to see what this place was like, but sadly couldn’t find it anywhere. We did see some other… interesting… looking places (including a fast food place called the Pelican – which is apparently the only place you can eat actual Pelican! Sadly it was shut…) So instead we popped into a couple of shops – again with the hard sell, but nothing like as bad as we’d been led to expect, and almost non-existent compared to Cuba…

Then, as we went to cross a street, two police officers in funky colonial style white helmets jumped into the road and brought the traffic to a halt, just so we could walk across. We thought this was a bit weird, but I think they really don’t want dead tourists where they can help it… We thanked them and asked where we should go for food. They pointed to a place up the road, Chrystels Restaurant & Bar, and then led the way.

At that moment, the Indian lady from my night in Cuba saw me, and dashed out of the shop she was browsing to see if I was alright… “Are you following them, or have they got you?!” she cried. I couldn’t answer for laughing, but eventually assured her everything was OK.

The bar was brilliant, a ramshackle place on the first floor with a couple of tables and chairs, some loud reggae and couple of stoned looking gentlemen. We sat down next to a more adventurous group from the ship who were there for nothing more than the (liquid) atmosphere – who handily told us not to pay full price for the beers – they’d been told it was $4 a beer, but had got them down to $2.

We ordered a fried chicken and a chicken curry with a beer each to wash it down… Man, it was good! Especially as it came with loads of excellent hot sauce…. I realised during this meal that I’ve eaten a lot of chicken so far, but it seems to be a go to dish out here, so what are you gonna do?

We really liked the food, and the atmosphere was great, so we stuck around for another drink – this time Jo went for a rum and coke. Which actually came as an almost undrinkable RUM and coke. Whilst sat there we met a taxi driver looking for business who was a good laugh, and as he left he went for a fist bump which made me look like the smallest creature who ever lived. His hands were huge! He made Razor Ruddock look like the runt of the litter…

Anyway, after food and a new found feeling of inadequate hands, we headed back for another wander and to sample some shops, which were also very open to haggling and we walked away with some excellent tat bargains! About the only thing we didn’t buy was any of the weed on offer (but we all make mistakes, ay?) and then we went back to the boat as most of the bars were shut… Apparently no one told them we were coming (or, maybe they did…)

The next day we were up bright and early to do one of the excursions we were looking forward to the most – The Dunns River Falls and Jamaican Bobsled Adventure…

13 of us piled into a mini bus along with our tour guide for the day (Rochelle) and our driver (Gentles)…  At first we hadn’t realised how far we had to go, so didn’t expect the 2 and a half hour journey, but it was OK – we had the least excited guide ever to entertain us… I do feel bad for her, she started off with some enthusiasm, but clearly hadn’t taken into account that it was very early in the morning, and few people on the coach had met one another yet (1500 people is quite a lot after all), so she was generally replied to in grunts and groans which was a shame. A few of us tried to get into it more, including one older lady we’d seen about a few time who took up the job of talking for all of us J

After a while, Rochelle just about gave up – only pointing out such fascinating sights as “the car hire district” and “this area is mainly used for light industrial work”

…wow…

She did perk up some more when she got to the story of the White Witch of Rose Hall, which is a great grizzly little story about a young Haitian woman who came to Jamaica and was brought up by her aunt, a Haitian witch. The young girl, Annie Palmer, married a plantation owner. Apparently she loved him to death – poisoning him and inheriting his estate. She then married again (killed that one too) and got another plantation. Then a third husband came along who she also killed, along with his mistress (who she used voodoo to do away with).

She’s buried in an isolated grave with 3 crosses around it to prevent her from getting out to haunt the good people of Jamaica.

Unfortunately they didn’t put a cross on the fourth side, so…

After this, she (Rochelle) did perk up some more - perhaps imagining Annie marrying us tourists - and went on to tell us about more interesting things, like the shanty towns we passed – how they’re not really full of poor people, it’s just that in Jamaica no one wants to owe money to the bank, so they build their houses bit by bit, some walls one day, then when they have some more money, in go some floors, and a while later still on goes a roof and so on and so forth… In the meantime, they live in these little shacks by the road, saving up to get their real home finished.

Finally we arrived in the Ocho Rios area, where both activities take place. First up was the bobsled – which started out with a long ride in a chair lift all the way up a mountain… 

This was excellent – like being on a good sized ski lift but over tropical jungle. We shared the 15 minute ride (actually took a good bit longer as it kept stopping) with Marco, a Serbian masseuse from the boat who was gotten a rare day out to join us, who happened to be mildly scared of heights. He was a good laugh though and we chatted happily all the way up, admiring the view and trying not to make him think about crashing down to the jungle floor way, way below us. 

At the top, we wandered around the visitor centre, which was pretty cool – lots of displays about Jamaican and West Indian sporting heroes, the local rum, some history of the country and surrounding area as well as a trio of dancers going through an energetic routine in “ethnic” clothing – they were good, but what was better was the talky lady from the mini bus jumping up and joining straight in, much to everyone’s delight… and she may have been 3 times older than the girls, but she was straight into the routine, bumping and grinding with the best of them! Good woman!

After a leg stretch and giggle at the dancers, the 3 of us got into the queue for the big event, not really knowing what we were in for…. I mean, Jo and I had watched Cool Running’s in preparation of this moment, but we soon saw that John Candy wasn’t around to provide advice and encouragement… Luckily, we soon got an idea of what we were about to do – a twin track like a rollercoaster with a number of individual cart/pods was just in front of us. The carts were simple affairs – a seat enclosed in a plastic shell painted in the Jamaican colours, with only one control to worry about – the brake, which was a handle on each side of the cart – pull it back (or let go) to slow down, push forward to go fast. 

We had the option of joining our carts together - which apparently lets you go faster, but neither of us wanted to be slowed down by the other so we would have to do it by ourselves. Like a gentleman, I elbowed Jo out of the way and jumped in the first available pod – getting strapped in and ready to…

And then we were (well, I was) off! It started slowly enough, lulling me into a false sense of security… and then….

(Annoyingly, I took a video all the way down this ride, but I can't get it to upload. While I work on this, here is a video of it that someone else made...)

Yeah. I really liked that. Best roller coaster I’ve been on! (Partly because no other roller coaster has ever made me sing “We are Jamaica we have a Bobsled team!” over and over in my head*)

At the bottom, the cart slows itself and hooks onto a conveyor belt that slowly takes you back up to the top, where you get out and exit through the gift shop (naturally). Here they gave us a taste of Blue Mountain coffee (delicious) which proved to be a great combination – caffeine on adrenaline.

W            I               R             E              D

We all then met up and jittered about the place, bouncing around the displays and people before heading to the Jerk Chicken shack for some lunch.

Mmm mmm mmm – them’s some tasty treats. Unfortunately, them's was some expensive tasty treats that sucked up all our monies, but hey ho – definitely worth it for the spicey spicey goodness…

All too soon we had to drift down the mountain again, the 3 of us chatting away some more about life in Serbia and on board the ship until we reached the bottom to find Gentles and coach to head over the Dunn’s River Falls.

Luckily, the falls is just a 2 minute drive away, so that much later we were in a car park, getting ready to get pretty soggy. A few people went to get changed, while Jo and I frantically routed around trying to find some more cash, as we were told we’d be expected to tip the guides.

Bugger. (Although I don’t regret the lunch, it was too tasty!)

Next thing we were queuing up to get in, whereupon it became clear that the trainers and socks we were wearing, while adequate, would not be pleasant… Luckily there was a stall selling rubber booties for a small fee, and luckier still a kind couple from the bus lent us the money.

Once properly attired, we all ambled up towards the waterfalls past other groups of (mainly American) tourists who were all worked into a frenzy by their guides who were getting them to shout and wave their arms and get excited – at first we all scoffed at the typical American behaviour… until we realised that we were now doing the same thing and enjoying it just as much.

Ah well.

Then we, along with our guide (Trevor) and our camera man (cannot for the life of me remember his name), all joined hands and waded into the lovely clear COLD water**, ready to make it up the falls (once I’d managed to get all my bits wet...)

We waded along, about waist deep in the water, climbing up a few little rises (the bit of the falls we went up was a little like a very wet and slippery staircase – there’s no scrabbling up sheer faces or ascending via ropes, it’s all simply a step-up here and there…) before getting to our first stop off – a mini natural water slide in the rock which we all took turns going down…

 After that there was more climbing, trying hard to hold hands all the time – which makes the bits we did have to climb all the harder, but did add an extra element of fun to it all.

Next up was a plunge pool in to which we all fell backwards, like a trust exercise gone all kinds of wrong.

After that we came to a beautiful splash area where we all took turns to get under the torrents of water and scream in shock (from the cold, not the surprise) and take some more pictures

 

And then up and up some more, until finally getting out at the top. It was brilliant – such a simple thing to do, but really exhilarating and easily one of the best excursions we’ve done on this trip. Combined with the bobsled it was an amazing day out!

When we’d pulled ourselves from the water, we slowly made our way back to the van, running another gauntlet of hawkers and vendors trying to get us to buy their bits and bobs… I think this was where we got the hardest sell of the whole trip – if you don’t politely say “No thank you” and move on immediately, then they have you and will do everything they can to guilt, cajole, charm or bore you into parting with your monies for items you neither want nor can carry home… We did get pulled aside to look at some “beautiful” wood carvings, but managed to escape (as we actually didn’t have any money. First time that’s ever actually been a good thing…)

Then it was back to the car park to find the van, get changed and on our way (but I will come clean here and say that although we didn’t buy any of the rubbish traditional craft items, we did buy a dvd of our waterfall trek… We haven’t watched it yet, so no idea if it was worth the money, but lets just either pretend that didn’t happen, or that it’s the greatest bit of filmmaking of all time, OK?)

Before long we were heading back to the boat, another long drive winding through towns and fields – most people slept, one person stretched out across half the bus while he clipped his toenails (!!!???!?!!), and a few had quiet whispered conversations. We had a lot of fun with another younger couple who it turned out were also on honeymoon!

Somehow this revelation led us via a circuitous conversational route into slinging father ted quotes back and forth, which was a giggle. We also spoke about what we knew of Jamaica – it turned out that Jo and I knew very little, but Mr Honeymooner is apparently a solicitor and has done some work for the crown, involved in cases at the highest court of appeal in Jamaica… According to him, truly terrible things happen to those in custody, including mock executions and other psychological tortures. Unsurprisingly, this knowledge dampened our spirits somewhat. I hope that it’s not true – I loved our time here, and really want to go back.

As we neared the boat, I asked the guide if we could stop at a cash machine so I could pay the couple back for our shoe money. This led us a little bit around the houses and delayed our return to the boat (it was getting close to the time of departure – but as we were on an official excursion organised by Thomson the boat would be forced to wait for us), but had the upshot of showing us an area of town completely off the tourist trail… It looked like somewhere we probably wouldn’t feel too comfortably in should we have wandered there by mistake, a lot of shouts and a feel of aggression at some points, but I think that might just have been road rage from all the traffic stuck in rush hour – and past that there was little but smiling faces and interesting shops.

Then we were heading through customs (they didn’t really bother with us) and back on board, ready to set sail for Aruba!

*actually, that was quite annoying

**Not that cold really: Freezing compared to the air temperature, but about the same heat as a bath back in England… Probably…