We decided to walk down the hill from the hotel to grab some
food at the Chill Out Hut that evening, a 30 minute walk down to the beach
restaurant, where we sat by the water and relaxed. Instead of calling Duran for
a ride back up in the dark I convinced my mum that it would be an adventure to
walk back up. I never felt unsafe in Jamaica, despite all the warnings you hear
before you go there. You just have to be sensible and street smart. We bumped
into the wild donkey that we had got used to see every night on the road up to
the hotel and were helped to dash across the main road by a kind man when we
realised that the traffic lights weren’t working properly. Everyone we passed
said hello and I was yet again offered to share a joint with an array of young
men who were walking by or hanging out in front of houses and shops. Houses in
Jamaica are built to withstand hurricanes, Concrete blocks with steel rods from
bottom to top, often sticking out through the roof and left there, making it
seem that many houses are unfinished. Houses are painted many colours, and
often the top floors don’t contain windows and sometimes no roofs. I don’t know
whether this is because they really are unfinished, or because they are used in
the summer, when the air is too hot to sleep inside.
“Hurricanes are when
Jamaicans make babies” – Duran
I had read about a place called
Time N’ Place
in my
guidebook, and read some reviews online. A bar, restaurant and inn, built on
the beach near Falmouth, supposedly off the beaten track and a wonderful place
to relax. We got there early in the morning and grabbed some beach beds and
settled ourselves in for what we thought would be a quiet day on the beach.
Until more cruisers turned up (we started calling them “boat people”). They
weren’t too bad, but I couldn’t wait for them to leave…
I had a shot of coconut rum with Tony, the
owner, who asked me all about bartending in NYC and I was ready to ask him if
he wanted to swap lives for a few months, when I realised that all of the boat
people had left. And so did Tony who started to worry that we were also going
to miss our boat… Both my mum and I started to laugh as it dawned on him that
we were actually not boat people and that’s when he showed us some real
Jamaican hospitality. He asked Dale, who works for him, to cut us fresh coconuts
from the tree, showed us all around the property, including the huts he had
built himself and rents out to visitors, and then told us to relax there for as
long as we wanted. He even gave us the beach entrance money he had charged us
when we had arrived, as apparently the charge was only for tourists, not for
visitors. When I go back there I am going to stay in one of the huts on the
beach. Waking up two steps from the ocean is one of my dreams, and I probably
won’t ever leave after that. I’d be like Tom Cruise in Cocktail, serve drinks
to people on the beach and listen to reggae all day in shorts and my bathing
suit. Paradise.
We spent a day walking around downtown MoBay, and for three
hours did not see one other tourist. I assume this is because most people stick
to the Hip Strip, rather than enjoy all of the sights of the bustling town. On
arrival we were immediately accosted by a couple of people intent on guiding us
around the area, but we let ourselves be lead by a lovely man who called
himself Rastaman (real name Freddie). He showed us the old church, the school,
the busy streets and took us down to the market , saying hello to every other
person along the way. No one bothered us, except to say hello, and I found that
I was really getting a feel for what it was like to live in a town in Jamaica.
Freddie explained that everyone has to do something to make money in order to
survive, hence the amount of people who haggle with tourists and try to sell
some type of product or service. In some ways I can understand the people who
decide to spend their time closed up in a resort as it is “easy” but I wouldn’t
ever want to miss any of the experiences that I had in Jamaica, or the
conversations I had with people. Freddie was a Rastafarian and I had some great
conversations about his lifestyle and beliefs. Being a vegetarian I found it a
little difficult to eat in Jamaica as most local places are meat and fish heavy
(we all know where jerk chicken comes from!). Freddie took us to an Ital
restaurant in downtown MoBay where everything is vegetarian and fresh. I had
the most delicious carrot, ginger and beetroot juice that I have ever had, and
some wonderful tofu and vegetables. All for a super decent price, the Jamaican
price, and not the price that you tend to find in the more touristy areas. For
$16 we had two juices and two huge meals. And I got to try breadfruit, which
tastes a little like swede, with the same type of consistency. More like a root
vegetable than a fruit!