My Time: Negril, Part 3

Later on that evening, the 3 of us found a little local bar/lounge on the cliff within walking distance to where we were staying. We talked about possibly pooling our money together to stay at a hotel that: A. had AC and a shower in the room and B. closer to all of the spring break activities (Heartbreak Villas, the name of the place we were staying was about a 10 minute cab ride from the center of town). That night we laughed and cried at the situation we were in. We also made friends with the bartenders who kept us laughing. It had been a good night. This local spot turned out to be one of our favorite spots to chill. 

The next morning my roommate rose early and suggested we give the showers a try. We would take turns guarding the entrance to the shower (there was no door or curtain, just an open entry). We found out that we actually liked bathing outdoors, it wasn't bad at all. Back in our room we opened the shutters to find that we had a beautiful view and a nice ocean breeze. We didn't need an alarm clock because every morning around 8 we would be awakened by the groundskeeper singing Missy Elliott's "One Minute Man" as he swept the grounds below us. 

By day 3 we had decided that we were going to have a good time regardless of our circumstances and current living situation. You've got to understand this was all new to these 2 Bronx girls, a real culture shock (our friend left a few days before we did). We weren't going to pay for a new hotel room because we had already paid for the one we had. We we were going to get out and explore the island and stay away from our hut as much as possible (we would really only be there to sleep at night). 

After overcoming our fear of the unknown, we ended up having tons of fun. We made a lot of friends with local people. Our cab driver fell in love with my roommate and took us all around the island. We spent time at a pool hall in Sav-La-Mar, took a boat ride through Black River and petted a crocodile. We treaded through Dunn's River and climbed Y.S. falls. The trip to Bob Marley's house was also unforgettable. The fact that we trusted a perfect stranger to lead us through the jungle to a ganja farm was also unforgettable. The things you do when you're young. 

I spent a lot of time reflecting about Negril after returning (and still do to this day). We met a lot of good, fun and unforgettable people there. The locals, the food, the experience all made it such an invaluable experience. This trip alone made me appreciate, respect and love local living. By the end of our 7 days we weren't ready to go. We had become accustomed to bathing outdoors and jerk chicken and coco bread from the man on the road. And we had learned so much about ourselves and the country we came from. 

So you see this wasn't your typical, run-of-the-mill spring break trip. Yes, we did Margaritaville and Rick's Cafe but we wanted MORE. We made the best of our situation; which is what native Caribbean people do everyday. We stopped complaining and LIVED. In the islands, how could you NOT? 

Oh, and our departing shuttle ride back to the airport only took 45 minutes ;-)

My Time: Negril, Part 2

Behind the gate were several elevated straw huts. There was no clear lobby or reception area, from what we could see. We're thinking, what do we do now? There's no pool, no restaurants on the grounds and no reception area. No one was there to welcome us or direct us to our room, or in this case, "hut". Lugging our luggage through the gate we noticed a housekeeper, she had on a turquoise dress with a white apron. She told us she would be with us in a second. 

A few minutes later Hyacinth (as she told us her name was) led us to an "available" room. There was no official check in. This was it. Here was our room. The hut was elevated on stilts, we walked up the stairs dragging our bags behind us. The hut was literally a hut; made out of straw and bamboo. I remember us laying on the bed and counting the number of lizards we could find on the thatched roof of our new humble abode. There was no AC and a mosquito net over the bed. 

As we surveyed the "suite" (using the term loosely), I noticed something odd about the bathroom. Something was missing. "Hyacinth, where's the shower?", I had asked. This is when she pointed OUTSIDE to an outdoor shower located several steps away (about 20 or 30!). At this point was when everything stopped being "okay" and "not a problem".  Here we were, in another country at this less-than-satisfactory motel. What would 2 female young adult students do at a time like this? We called our moms. Hyacinth led us to an office the size of a family dressing room in Target. It was a messy room with books and papers all over the place BUT it had AC and a working phone. We both took turns calling our moms collect (neither of us had cell phones back then). I'm not sure what we expected our moms to do but at least they knew we had gotten there safely. Next, my roommate called the student service agency to complain, they were no help. 

Hyacinth told us of another room that did have a shower. We went to check it out and that room was very HOT and dark. No breeze no where. We decided to stay where we were originally placed.

We felt trapped. We decided to go for a walk to weigh our options. Another friend of ours was arriving in a few hours, it would be 3 of us sleeping in one bed, fully clothed and afraid of the creatures lurking in the darkness of our room. We constantly loss power, several times a day sometimes for long periods of time. We were depressed in paradise. 

To be continued!

My Time: Negril, Part 1

If you follow C+C on Instagram you'll recall that I mentioned I would be introducing a series of my most interesting island experiences. The "My Time" series will outline some of my most interesting times in the Caribbean. Get ready. 

First up: Negril, Jamaica. 

Negril was my very first trip out of the country as a young adult in college on spring break. I know you're probably thinking wild parties, drinking and all the things that come along with that but no; this wasn't that kind of trip. The year was 2000 and my roommate and I were super excited. This wouldn't be my first experience in the Caribbean; I had went on cruises as a child. *Side note: I remember the adults being sad about heading back home after visiting several warm and sunny islands. I've always had an "I'll be back" mentality, from 10 years of age! 

Anyhow, we booked this trip through one of those questionable student spring break vacation agencies. Keep in mind this was before the popularity of travel search engines and TripAdvisor - I say that to say we booked blindly. We paid $700 for a 7 day trip, hotel and airfare included. Keep thinking what you're thinking.

We landed in Montego Bay for a choppy connecting flight over the beautiful Blue Mountains to Negril. Upon arrival we searched for our "airport transfer". This turned out to be a guy with a van. No problem, we thought. We boarded the van along with a couple from Boston. There were 4 of us in this stuffy van (AC wasn't working). Still, no problem.

What should have been an easy 45 minute drive from the airport to our hotel turned out to be 2 hours. Our driver refused to take the paved road and took the bumpy, unpaved back roads. Still, we thought, no problem; we're in Jamaica! E'ry ting irie. We stopped pon di side of the road because our beloved driver saw his ex-girlfriend and wanted to chat. This was fine with us because there happened to be a curry shop with a bathroom we could use. My roommate and I purchased a curry chicken and 2 Tings. Life was great. Meanwhile, the couple from Boston was slowly growing impatient.

Back on the road, our driver warned us to close the windows because the area we were about to go through were filled with men who would shove marijuana through the windows looking for a sale. We laughed. About 2 minutes later, the men appeared as our driver seemed to swerve aggressively and accelerate (not sure if he was trying to avoid them or run them over). The Boston couple made a quick weed transaction which further angered our driver. 

About half an hour later we arrive in a small parish. Still not Negril. We pull up the driveway of a small house with galvanized siding and roof. Driver tells us he has to pick up his son. His son, who looks to be about 8 runs shoeless to the van. Driver tells him to go back and get his shoes. The Boston couple is very impatient by now. My roommate and I are tickled by all of these unpredictable events. 

We finally make our way to Negril, as I said, about 2 hours later. Boston couple gets dropped off at their resort. My roommate and I are also asked to step out the van because the driver needs to speak (get paid) to the student agency representative. We receive our wrist bands for the spring break activities included in our package. This takes about another 45 minutes because the representative wasn't there when we first arrived. 

Back in the van, we head deeper into Negril. Past Burger King, Margaritaville, cows and everything else. Our poor driver doesn't know where our resort is so he asks some ladies on the side of the road. He's not satisfied with their answer and gruffly pulls off without saying "thank you". 

Several minutes and a few u-turns later we pull up to a gate. We didn't know what we had gotten ourselves into...

To be continued!

Welcome Back!

It's been a while. A LONG while. Life has happened (literally! I have a 1, soon-to-be-2 year old son) and well, to be honest, it hasn't been easy trying to balance life as a mom and middle school special education teacher. Though I absolutely LOVE the Caribbean, and I always find the time to make it there (I can never stay away too long). No matter my financial situation, I will ALWAYS find a way to get to paradise; my safe haven, security blanket, place of happiness and reflection. I don't know about you, but I NEED the sun, sand and waves. I NEED to see the vibrant greens of the swaying palm trees and crystal clear turquoise waters. It just does something to my soul. It's as much a part of me as the Bronx is. Yes, I born and raised in the Bronx but I consider myself an "honorary West Indian" (via my husband, who comes from St. Lucia). 

I love island life, period. Not just what a resort can offer because most times I prefer local living. Bob Marley said it best, "We'll be together with a roof right over our heads, we'll share the shelter of my single bed". YES! Less is always more in my book.