JAMAICA, MON
About
a year ago I found out that one of my best friends, Eric, was getting
married. This was exciting, as Eric had
been the Best Man at our wedding. Even
better, the wedding was to be held in Negril,
Jamaica. Unfortunately, it was scheduled
for mid-June. Initially we weren’t sure
we’d be able to squeeze in a trip between the end of the school year and our
big summer vacation in Wyoming. Luckily
the timing worked out, and I was able to secure a week off from work by
sacrificing the week I usually take over Christy’s Spring Break.
The
wedding was scheduled for Saturday June 18th, so we decided to fly down
a week in advance. Christy and I booked
our flights, and I began the process of researching the island of Jamaica.
The
wedding was to be held at an expensive, all-inclusive resort. We looked briefly at staying there. Could we really fly to a foreign country and
spend an entire week sitting in the sun and eating and drinking too much? Christy maybe could’ve, but that would’ve
driven me crazy. After all, I can do
that on my back porch and save a ton of money.
No, if I was going to travel to a foreign country, I would insist on
actually seeing it. Christy agreed, with
the stipulation that there would still be an adequate amount of sitting in the
sun time built into our itinerary.
Planning
the trip turned out to be more challenging than I expected. I picked up a Rough Guide for Jamaica at the
local library, and it was a big help. I
also bought a highway map printed by International Travel Maps, which proved to
be mostly accurate. After looking
through the highlights in the guidebook, I realized a couple of key things:
1)
For
a Caribbean Island, Jamaica was a big place
2)
We
were going to have to see all of it
Actually,
statement #2 is completely absurd.
Seeing ALL of Jamaica in a week would be
impractical, if not completely impossible.
But we wanted to see as much of it as possible. After a bit of debate, we decided that we
would just have to drive all the way around it.
With
that settled, I began the task of figuring out where we wanted to stay. Most tourists focus on three major resort
areas in Jamaica – Montego Bay, Ocho Rios, and Negril. My intention
was to avoid those places as much as possible.
Of course we’d have to visit Negril since the
wedding would be there, and the airport is in Montego Bay, so we couldn’t avoid
it completely.
We
decided to drive around the island clockwise, finishing in Negril
in time for the wedding. After a bit of
research, I found several destinations that sounded compelling. First, the small city of Falmouth features a
rare bioluminescent lagoon that is reputedly the most spectacular of its kind
in the world. Seeing it requires
visiting at night, so we planned to spend our first night near there. Farther east, the area around Robins Bay
sounded compelling. The main road in
Jamaica circles the island, and for the most part it follows the coast. As a result, there are only a handful of
brief stretches of wild coastline remaining on the island. One of them lies between Port Maria and Annotto Bay, and includes Robins Bay. That area features some fine hiking as well
as some intriguing accommodation options.
On
the southwest side of the island, Treasure Beach sounded perfect for us. It’s well off the beaten path and features
community-based tourism. The area has
all sorts of accommodations, with the exception of expensive, large-scale
resorts. That region also features some
hiking and biking options. Best of all,
it’s on the “dry” side of the island.
Since we would be visiting in the middle of the rainy season, staying on
the dry side for a few days sounded very appealing. Because of the rainy season, we decided to
avoid venturing much into the interior.
We did spend some time up in the hills, but avoided the Blue Mountains
completely. The Blue Mountains are
significant, with the highest peaks exceeding 7000’. They are also a rain forest, and during the
rainy season, the clouds rarely break. I
didn’t see much point in dragging Christy up there for a walk in the rain. Instead, we planned our hikes along the
coast, where we had a better chance of favorable weather.
The
only good thing about taking our trip during the rainy season was that it was
also the off-season. Rates were lower,
and the usual crowds of tourists were reduced to a manageable level. I can’t imagine what Negril
is like the week after Christmas!
Once
we had a rough plan in place, I began researching specific places to stay. We ended up making reservations for 1 night near
Falmouth, 2 nights at Robins Bay, 3 nights near Treasure Beach, and 2 nights in
Negril. For
activities, I largely planned to wing it.
We’d figure out our hiking options on the fly. However, I did book a guided caving tour for
the first full day of our trip. Jamaica
is riddled with caves, and I wanted to experience one while we were there.
ROUNDABOUT
By
the time our trip rolled around, Christy and I were both wishing that we had
planned to park our butts at an all-exclusive resort. I was stressed out from work, and Christy was
barely surviving the end of another insane school year. If we had stayed at a resort, this trip
report would be a lot shorter. Eat,
drink, repeat.
Our only worthwhile tale from the whole trip would’ve been how we’d almost
gotten cast in a Corona commercial. Of
course we didn’t do that. We did make
one concession to excessive consumption though, by spending our first afternoon
in Montego Bay.
We
flew to Montego Bay direct from Charlotte on USAir. On Friday afternoon, I discovered that we’d
been upgraded to first class. This was a
great way to start the trip, and almost made up for the misery we’d experience
a week later trying to get home.
The
flight was smooth, and we arrived in Montego Bay around noon. We got our luggage, cleared customs, and went
to the Avis counter. There I purchased
full insurance on our rental car, which I almost never do. Our normal insurance doesn’t cover us outside
the U.S. and Canada though, and I’d heard that Jamaican drivers are crazy. We didn’t want to take any unnecessary
chances, despite the extra $20 / day.
Christy
and I had decided that she would drive and I would navigate. I’d also heard that navigating in Jamaica is
tricky. I didn’t want to attempt to do
that and drive, particularly since Jamaicans drive on the wrong side of the
road. Yes, Jamaica is a former British
colony, and they are one of a handful of backwards places on the planet that
drive on the left. Christy and I had
discussed this at length at least twice before the trip, as I’d wanted to make
sure she was comfortable with the concept.
Personally, I wouldn’t have cared for it a bit. So, I was a bit startled when Christy seemed
surprised that the steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car. Apparently Christy had thought that I’d been
joking when we’d had those discussions about driving on the left. I found her surprise to be rather
disturbing. This was clearly not going
to go well.
The
car itself (a Toyota Yaris) wasn’t too bad. Its biggest flaw (aside from the steering
wheel being on the wrong side) was that the trunk had a tendency to slam shut
without warning. This did ultimately
result in a couple of relatively minor head injuries. Unfortunately the Avis attendant felt that it
was necessary to document every scratch on the car even though we had purchased
the insurance. I tried to explain to him
that the insurance we had purchased gave us the right to scratch every bit of
paint off that car if we chose to, but there simply was no comprehension. So we wasted 5 minutes on that exercise
before Christy finally got to drive in Jamaica.
Getting
out of the airport wasn’t bad since we were on a one-way road. That ended all too soon at a roundabout. I’m not sure which traffic engineer in hell
came up with the brilliant roundabout idea, but I hope he gets run over by a
bus. Roundabouts are bewildering at
home. In Jamaica, with traffic flying at
you from every direction and everything being backwards, they are
terrifying.
It
turns out that nearly every major intersection in Jamaica has a roundabout. “Look kids, Big Ben”! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAgX6qlJEMc&feature=related)
We
went around the roundabout a couple of times before it spit us out and back
into the airport. This was great fun,
but would’ve been better with a couple of drinks first. Our next attempt was more successful, and
actually resulted in us getting on the correct street. We followed it into the heart of Montego
Bay. Although the roundabout was behind
us, the drive continued to be terrifying.
We were on an exceptionally narrow but busy street. Christy must’ve felt like her right tire was
across the center of the road (there were no lines), but the left tire was
almost against the sidewalk / hedge / rock wall / parked cars on the left side
of the road. I’m not sure how Christy
was even managing this, as I could barely look at the road ahead. It seemed like a collision was imminent, but
somehow we arrived at Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville
Cafe safe and sound.
At
that point, we had traveled approximately 2 miles (not counting extra laps
around the roundabout). Only 428 miles
to go!
I’m
pleased to report that Christy eventually got more comfortable driving backasswards. The
driving got smoother as the trip progressed (figuratively speaking). We only had a few mishaps, including one flat
tire, two mild concussions, a number of scratched cds,
getting lost a few times, and hitting one immovable object, but at least we had
the insurance. We also didn’t get stuck
in a swamp or drive into the ocean, which is more than I can say for some of
our past trips.
WASTIN’ AWAY AGAIN
Parking
was a bit of a problem at Margaritaville. That’s because there isn’t any. During the busy season this would be a major issue. On this particular day though, we were
actually able to parallel park on the street in front of the restaurant. Inside we indulged in Conch Fritters and fish
tacos and margaritas. Then we got on to
the real reason we’d had lunch there – the water slide.
The
Margarita Cafe in Montego Bay features a tall waterslide that runs from the top
of the 4-story restaurant directly into the sea. Clearly we weren’t spending a week in Jamaica
without experiencing it. We finished our
lunch and drinks and headed upstairs. No
Mom, we didn’t wait an hour before going in the water. Probably not even 10 minutes. The waterslide was good fun until the
end. Hitting the water created a
sensation akin to that of being in a train wreck. I actually thought my nose had turned inside
out. Christy refused to do it again,
though I’m more of a sucker for abuse. I
went twice more, and then we lounged on inner tubes for awhile. Eventually
some clouds intruded, and then 3 huge “party boats” full of young people
arrived. At that point, it was clearly
past time for us to get on the road.
STELLA BLUE
The
drive to Falmouth wasn’t as bad. Once we
escaped Montego Bay we actually found ourselves on a pretty good highway. The only confusion we had came after we
stopped at a gas station for a drink.
Leaving the gas station, we were both baffled as to where we should
properly position the car to make the turn back onto the highway. We botched that rather badly, but fortunately
there wasn’t much traffic. For the next
few days Christy handled the driving fairly well, but making turns was always
an adventure. We’d actually talk about
it before the turn. For example, I would
direct her to turn right from the middle of the road, and to turn into the far
left lane. That team effort worked
fairly well until it became second nature.
We
bypassed Falmouth and drove on to the community of Rock. We had reservations that night at My Time ‘n
Place, which is a little dive bar / restaurant with cottages right on the
beach. We didn’t have actual directions
to get there, and we ended up wandering around a bit. Since it was on the beach we knew we’d find
it eventually, and we did.
My
Time ‘n Place is mildly famous, as it is the location where the movie “Where
Stella Got Her Groove Back” was filmed.
I haven’t seen the movie, but we’ll probably have to rent it sometime
just to relive the place. When we arrived
it was nearly deserted. There was a
bartender on hand, along with a few folks basking in the sun. We lounged about a bit before the owner,
Tony, arrived. Tony is a friendly,
helpful guy, but there was some confusion about our reservation. Apparently it had been lost, and the cottage
we had reserved was occupied. Luckily
one other cottage was free. I was also
told that the deposit we had made hadn’t gone through. We paid for the room in full, but later
discovered that they had received our deposit.
The good news is that they were very prompt about issuing a refund.
After
checking in we lounged on the small slice of beach and watched naked people
cavorting at the resort next door. That
evening we hung out at the bar and met a nice young couple from Chicago. They had flown into Kingston (the capital and
largest city in Jamaica) and had taken a bus across the mountains to the north
coast. They told us that the ride had
been a horror, as the bus traversed narrow, curvy, cliff-side roads in a
torrential downpour. After hearing this,
I was pretty confident we’d made the right decision skipping the mountains.
The
girl was all torn up with mosquito bites that she had acquired at the bar the
night before. This made me cringe, and I
went back to the room for our Deet. I searched the room, our luggage, and the
rental car, but it didn’t turn up. I
thought I’d failed to pack it, but it didn’t turn up at home after we returned,
either. Now I suspect that it had
magically disappeared from my unlocked suitcase somewhere between Charlotte and
baggage claim in Montego Bay. At least
nothing else wandered off.
We
had dinner there. Christy had Jerk
Shrimp, while I dined on excellent Jerk Chicken. Jerk Chicken, Fish Tacos, and Conch Fritters
are three of my all-time favorite foods, and I’d had them all in one day. We washed our dinner down with a couple of
Red Stripes (hooray beer!).
We
talked with Tony about the best way to see the bio-luminescent lagoon. There is a restaurant nearby, “Glistening
Waters”, that runs tour boats after dark. However, Tony recommended a local guy named
Irby, saying that we’d get a better tour for less money. He called Irby and set everything up for us,
and then gave us directions to the dock.
Tony was a huge help in facilitating all of this.
We
drove through the community of Rock, which was in full swing. Someone had set up a giant sound system out
in the street, and the place was rocking as we passed through. We managed to dodge dozens of stray dogs and
eventually found our way down to the dock.
We located Irby in a restaurant there, and he led us out to the boat.
There
we met Irby’s assistant and 5 other passengers.
We all headed out into the dark lagoon, the moon above and distant city
lights providing the only illumination.
On
the way out Irby’s assistant explained the biology that makes the lagoon
glow. The lagoon features a unique
mixture of fresh water and salt water.
Microscopic creatures live in the silt at the bottom of the lagoon. They glow an eerie blue, but they have to be
agitated to shine. For a demonstration,
Irby’s assistant stirred up a bucket full of lagoon water. The water immediately changed to a bright
blue. Meanwhile, a bright blue glowing
line extended out from behind our boat, marking our trail.
That
was cool, but we hadn’t seen anything yet.
We reached the middle of the lagoon and the boat stopped. At this point Irby asked us if anyone wanted
to go for a swim. Moments later Christy
and three of the other passengers were in the water. As soon as they got in the water a large
patch of lagoon began glowing a brilliant blue. It was spooky, breathtaking, amazing. For a minute there, I thought we’d stumbled
into a scene from “Avatar”. I was eager
to get in the water, but I wanted to try to capture the scene with my
camera. Never mind that it was almost
completely dark and I was standing on a rocking boat. I had to try.
I
ended up with several blurry photos that are hard to look at, but are somehow
still cool. One is a close up of Christy
swimming through the blue, and it looks like a photo of a ghost.
I
put the camera away and jumped in. The
water was surprisingly cold, at least at the bottom. The salt water on the surface was much
warmer, and we all worked hard to stir the water and silt. The more we thrashed around, the brighter the
glow grew. It was fascinating running my
arms through the water, watching them glow just below the surface.
Eventually
we got out and headed back. Everyone was
in agreement that it had been one of the coolest things we’d ever seen. In hindsight though, optimal conditions would
be a moonless, cloudy night for maximum darkness. The moon had actually been rather bright
during our visit. Irby also mentioned
that there are some nights when the colors fail to show. I’m not sure why this would be, but changes
in the weather could affect the creatures that are the source of the
luminescence. We paid Irby $15 each and
added a tip once we got back. Then we
headed back to My Time ‘N Place, where we relaxed on the beach and enjoyed a
campfire. Then we headed to bed, as we
had a big day planned on Sunday.
We
slept well, even though our cottage didn’t have air conditioning. We left the windows open to take advantage of
the sea breeze. We suffered a few
mosquito bites as a result (Christy had been opposed to using the mosquito
netting), but that was better than tossing and turning all night.
COCKPIT COUNTRY
We
got up at 7:45 and had a free breakfast of toast, jelly, bananas, and
coffee. We checked out, and made our
first foray into Jamaica’s wild interior.
It didn’t take us long to get well off the tourist path. We headed up into Cockpit Country, which is
Jamaica’s last significant wild country.
In researching Jamaica, Cockpit Country had fascinated me. The area features rugged limestone terrain
that includes steep ridges, sheer cliffs, and deep caves. In other words, it’s a lot like the
Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee, except with Palm Trees. The caves were the main focus of our
adventure there. We had signed up for a
guided caving trip with The Southern Trelawny
Environmental Agency (STEA): http://www.stea.net/
STEA
does a lot of conservation work in Cockpit Country, with their efforts mainly
focused on protecting this spectacular yet fragile area.
Cockpit
Country is wild, but it isn’t a wilderness in the true sense. People live there, mainly farming yams, sugar
cane, and coffee. There are many small
communities, but no large cities or resorts or tourist attractions. We drove up through several of those charming
communities, taking in the local culture of the “real” Jamaica. We passed farmers harvesting sugar cane, and well-dressed locals in their Sunday best waiting
for a bus to take them to church. We saw
people carrying large bundles on their heads, and others walking goats on
leashes. It was a fascinating look at a
part of Jamaica that most tourists miss.
I regret that we didn’t see more of it though. We completely missed out on some communities
with fascinating names, like Wait-A-Bit, Quick Step, Maggotty,
Balaclava, and Barbeque Bottom. I’m
really sorry we missed out on Barbeque Bottom, as that would’ve made a great
name for this section of the trip report.
Alas, a wrong turn in Clarks Town led us to approach Albert Town via a
different road, through “The Alps”. The
Alps weren’t snowy, but they were scenic nonetheless.
The
scenery was lovely up in the mountains, but the driving was scary. We were on a narrow cliff-side road full of
blind curves. Frequently we’d encounter
someone coming the other way, usually at an absurd speed. The road was barely wide enough for two cars,
and Christy had to fight the urge to swerve to the right every time we met
someone. Later we found out that the
road up through Barbeque Bottom is much worse.
I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t go that way after all.
We
made it to Albert Town despite an utter lack of road signs, but couldn’t find
the STEA office. We asked for directions
from some locals, and got conflicting suggestions that varied between
unintelligible and inaccurate.
Technically English is the official language in Jamaica, but in some
areas you’d hardly know it. We drove
around Albert Town for 20+ minutes, which was an impressive feat in such a
small place. Eventually the guy with
STEA flagged us down. It turns out that
their office doesn’t have a sign…
We
had a brief consultation and paid $65 each for the tour. This was pretty expensive for a couple of
hours in a cave, and I had some doubts about whether it would be worth it.
We
followed the STEA representative a few miles out of town to the trailhead. There we met our local guide, Ainsworth. Ainsworth looked to be all of 18 years old,
but he had all of the necessary gear for a safe caving trip. We chatted briefly and geared up for the
short hike to the Printed Circuit Cave (also known as Rock Springs Cave).
We
followed Ainsworth down a dirt road past some farm houses under surprisingly
sunny skies. The week before our arrival
had featured non-stop rain in the mountains, but the weather had finally
turned. I was a little nervous about
caving in a flood-prone area, but I assumed that STEA and our guide would lead
us to a relatively safe cave.
The
hike there was short but interesting. We
picked up a trail into the woods and passed a farmer hoeing yams. We saw a number of wildflowers, including the
delicate Madame Faith. We passed beneath
rugged cliffs, and spotted what appeared to be another cave entrance. We reached a substantial creek, which we were
barely able to rock hop without getting our feet wet. Then we climbed up to the mouth of the
cave. There Ainsworth fitted us with
helmets and lights and gave each of us a second flashlight. I was also carrying a third in my pack, along
with water. The mosquitoes were annoying
at the entrance, so we didn’t linger. We
ducked into a narrow passage and into the Printed Circuit Cave.
The
trip started with an easy stroll through a narrow passage that reminded me of
the slot canyons of southern Utah. Later
the caving got a bit more intense, with some hands and knees crawling and a bit
of climbing. There wasn’t anything very
technical, though one short ascent required climbing a fixed rope. Along the way we spotted numerous features,
including flowstones, stalagmites, soda straws, bacon, and lots
more. It was a beautiful cave, and
almost completely unspoiled. There was
no graffiti or trash, and few signs that other people had passed through here.
The
best part of the tour came mid-way through.
We descended to a passage filled with an underground stream. At first I thought that we were just looking
at it, but then I found out that we would be hiking through it. Again I wondered about safety – what if a
storm caused the passage to flood? Then
again, if it wasn’t flooded after a week of downpours, it probably wasn’t flood
prone. We waded into the subterranean
river, our boots filling with cold, silty water. Then we headed upstream, moving cautiously
along the slippery stream. I was being
particularly careful, as I was carrying my camera around my neck. At one point we passed through a pool that
was chest deep, and I had to hold my camera above my head. It was a relief once we got to the other
side.
Many
of the best rock formations were along the river, and I attempted a lot of
photos. Most were blurry (photography in
total darkness is rather tricky) but I managed a few good ones using the flash.
Eventually
we left the river, and climbed back up to a junction with the main trail near
the entrance. We had made a long loop
through the cave, and only ended up backtracking for a few minutes on the way
out.
The
caving trip may have been expensive, but it was fantastic. We were in the cave less than two hours, but
saw enough to make it feel like a full day.
Along the way we explored all three levels of the cave. In addition to the rock formations and the
underground river, we spotted bats and cave crabs. In fact, it may have been the most impressive
cave we’d ever explored. I would
definitely do another caving trip with the STEA if we return to Jamaica.
We
emerged from the cave into bright sunshine.
We bathed in the creek, removing most of the cave mud, before heading
back to the car. We then drove through a
coffee plantation to a farmhouse, where we changed into clean clothes. From there we headed back to Albert Town. All of the restaurants there are closed on
Sunday, so we stopped at a local store that reeked of ganja and bought some
snacks. We gave Ainsworth a tip before
heading out, bound once again for the coast.
Back to Jamaica
Back to Hiking and Backpacking Trip Reports
Please remember to Leave No Trace!