Cruise 2012- Part 2: Jamaica

Everything that anyone ever told me about Jamaica was all true, I (not so gladly) can report.

The two things I knew about Jamaica before I went:

1) My parents went on their honeymoon to Jamaica and my mom got sun poisoning and had to go to the hospital where they thought my dad had beat her.  (not even exaggerating)

2) Anyone that has gone in more recent years than the 70's reports that they were annoyed by the locals trying to sell drugs to them.

So knowing these things I packed, applied and re-applied frequently SPF 100 and touched up a little on the "just say no" drug campaign.

And then I put on the cover-up that "covered-up" the most skin possible.

And put on an obnoxious hat that apparently could have used a little more starch.

You need to know this so you understand the photos that are going to unveil in this post and why I do not in fact look like I am at the beach...

We pulled into Montego Bay and just like last year watched from the top of the ship.

We stepped off the ship into what I can only describe as a compound (that you don't realize at first).  But you are in a gated off, high security area that locals can't just walk into.  And they have their "trusted" taxi drivers there waiting to take you where you need to go.  In this bubble you aren't exposed to the true Jamaican atmosphere.

When you drive out their gates (that open and close with each taxi and only let you in with a ship ID) you see the real Jamaica.  

If you've ever been to Mexico and had that uneasy feeling, multiply it by about two (or ten) and that's Jamaica.  

Now, some of that initial uneasy feeling probably comes from the fact that they drive on the wrong side of the road, especially since that was my first experience with such driving, but still worse than Mexico.

So I feel we were still in the Jamaican "safe bubble" until we stepped out of the taxi the first time.  Where it took all of four seconds before a man approached me and asked if I smoked marijuana.  

I was honestly most shocked by the fact that he asked me just that way instead of using slang terms, innuendos or what not.  I guess a true business man wants to make sure any of his international customers will understand his pitch, haha!

But after fighting past all the drug prospects we made our way to this place:

I could go on about the hilarity of them calling it a bathing club but I think this may the longest post in the history of ever if I keep going at this rate.

It was a VERY beautiful beach.  No doubts about that!

There was fun on the beach again this year.  We swam out to the trampoline.

They had lifeguards similar to Baywatch:

Or not.


(But VERY Jamaican Man!)


Speaking of the snorkeling there (see how I incorporate things from the picture to keep this post rolling?), you could pay $20 per person to take one of these smaller boats (not our cruise ship in the background) to go just beyond the line (with the buoys) where you can swim on the beach.

Or you can rent two snorkels for a total of $10.


So we chose the option of renting two snorkels and sharing amongst our group.  Not the most hygienic route, I know, but I am pretty sure after seeing the chairs we rented their means of "disinfecting" were non-existent.  I'll take my chances with germs from those I know was kinda where I was on that one...


But I was quite pleasantly surprised by the reefs that were right there along the beach!  Tropical fish within swimming distance, crazy!

We enjoyed hanging on the beach:

Drinking some Red Stripe (to our disappointment not out of the bottle because of the whole "broken glass on the beach" thing):

And eventually, the beach got more crowded:

The sun got so hot we all huddled around our two umbrellas:

(Except when I took that photo most everyone must've gone to the bathroom or something, haha!)


And we all got hungry and decided to make our way to Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville, which was walking distance away.  


An interesting walk, I might add.

Once you got past the mess that was the taxi drivers trying to take you somewhere just outside the restaurant (to which despite all our persuasiveness they did not get that we were already where we trying to get), they had these gorgeous views from Margaritaville.

And of course, "when in Rome," you get the Jerk Chicken and a Red Stripe beer!

If I can add my two cents on Margaritaville here, to all of us it's obvious that the most "American" looking and talking Jamaicans worked there.  The typical dinner plate was about $10-15, which is about a 1,000 times higher than the prices of the crap stuff they were trying to sell you right on the beach.  And based on those prices, I'd assume (which I know means I am probably making an ass of u and me) Margaritaville is one of the top aspirations of jobs of the people of that country.  I mean, I know they have better jobs, but I would think that Margaritaville wouldn't be a bad job in the scheme of things there.  Which was kinda sad, that they aspire to be like us to get paid more.  Which made me wish I had the guts to trust a local food joint to support the true "little guy."  


But I take my chances on unsanitised snorkeling gear, not food joints in poor countries.


When we left we had our "American" waiter set us up with a cab driver because fighting the crowd outside was not something any of us were looking forward to.  


And the last thing of note was the cab ride home.  I heard many things before going to Jamaica as to what not to do.  Things like, don't get burned, don't buy drugs, don't pet the monkeys (I never saw any monkeys).  But the one piece of advice I REALLY could have used was don't point at the people selling stuff on the side of the street. 


We were in the cab and first saw someone selling some hand crafted birds-on-a-tree concoction.  We all ohh'ed at its originality and artistic craftiness.  But as we further drove on, at about 20 miles per hour, mind you, we saw another such craft that I, ever so quickly, pointed out to my fellow passengers that there was another (and with no inkling of such a liking as to wanting to buy).  


As I remember it, you'd have to have near Matrix speed to have noticed my pointing.  


But trust me, the guy noticed I pointed.


And he began running after us.


To which at first I thought, no biggie, we're driving fast enough, we'll lose him and this nightmare will be over in no time.  


But this guy I think may be related (or actually be) either Yohan Blake or Usain Bolt.


(Don't worry if you don't get the reference, I wouldn't have either had I not had two guys on this trip talk about them.  Just know this, in about two weeks, when the Olympics begin, you'll better get the reference.  Maybe.)


And he kept up with us until we met our next stop light.  Where he came up to my window and offered me the hideous beautiful birds-in-the-tree carved thing for five dollars.  


Y'all, if I could price hand carved birds-in-the-tree concoctions, I'd say $5 is the deal of the century.  However, I forgot to mention when I stepped off the boat into Jamaica I realized I forgot to bring cash.  So Homann paid for my beach rentals and I paid with a credit card for our food.  But I had NOTHING to give this guy.  And he just ran an impressive stretch (that I couldn't name in distance because I spent that time with my head in my hands stating, "I didn't mean to point!")  that was worth $5 alone.  I just didn't have it.  And the light was then turning green and I just couldn't work a deal with anyone in the cab fast enough to get that damned birds-in-the-tree carved thing.  


(Well lets be honest, I was trying to work said deal with the people of my cab with my ventriloquist skills that I am currently working on.  Which include, at least at this point of my career, not talking at all.)


I felt real bad driving off.


But I mostly felt glad that I didn't have to figure out how to fit that in my suitcase or how to sell it as being gorgeous to those who visited my apartment or, at the very least, that he didn't kill me.


Because that's how the ghetto works.


And now, on a lighter note (because if you've stuck around and read this long, you deserve a funny photo!), I leave you with the amazing one legged girl on the beaches of Jamaica!

Yeah, the one legged girl being me.


Y'all, I couldn't have hidden one of my legs better if I tried, haha!!!