An all-new TRAIL OF ASHES exclusive: The Mighty Californian's last hurrah in Negril

[deanna]

The sun was just setting on the horizon to the right of airplane as we made our approach to Sangster airport. We were the only arrival on this night, so it was a breeze through customs, and soon my luggage showed up -- always a relief -- and a nice man named Kelly from Clive's Transport met me out front.

Kelly had a tightly-dressed lady with him whom he reffered to as his girlfriend, plus Georgette, the company's loyal administrator, was around, too, and she came with us after introducing herself, as she felt like she already knew me after I've used the service about a dozen times.

The smell of Jamaica was in the air, the humid heat at night jarred my senses a bit, because it's been a while, and the tropical weather takes some getting used.

"I said, 'Ya mon, let's to Negril,'" and we were off.

Oh I LOVE that smell of the Jamaica air when you step outside the airport! Well said gerryg123! enjoy your trip

[gerryg123]

About halway towards Negril, we stopped at a shop for supplies. Just as i was getting out of the van, Georgette from the backseat simply said: "Gerry, buy me something."

Now I really knew I was in Jamaica. One thing about the locals, they're not hesitant to ask for stuff, even the ones who have full-time jobs. I don't hold it against anyone, it's part of their culture, and I complied.

Then I kind of thought to myself for second for one of those 'only in Jamaica' moments. Imagine in the USA, if you got a shuttle ride from Super Shuttle or LAX shuttle, and the driver bought a girlfriend plus the secretary asked you out of nowhere to buy her a drink. Plus, other queries from the driver, of which I will leave it to your imagination what he was asking that I might want. Such actions might deem a strongly worded letter of complaint or perhaps get someone fired or reprimanded; here, you don't even blink.

I love it. It's like the wild, wild west in Negril, and that's part of the charm.

I bought a case of red stripe (cold), two 750 ml bottles of JB overproof and two bottles of fruit punch for the girls in back. (The driver didn't ask for anything because he figured it might interfere with his tip, I assume). The total came out to like 73 dollars USA, which seemed like a lot, but then I figured out that a case of beer "cold" is more than warm, as the store clerk had asked me specifically if I had wanted it cold. Another difference between California and Jamaica.

Anyway, eventually we hit the turn where it says this way to Negril, and before long we were headed up the hill to Seastar Inn, my home away from home.

I had started the day when my alarm clock first went off at 4 a.m. in Los Angeles, was at the airport by 6, in the air by 8. We had stopped in Miami for a layover, and it was now about 930 p.m., but only 730 p.m. LA time.

It had already been a long day. But never in my long Negril history had I just calmly went to bed upon arrival, and that includes a long series of overnight flights.

I was ready to party.

[yetta]

There is no way that I can "calmly go to bed" upon arrival! Somehow, all the tiredness just dissolves and I want to be up for a while to do nothing but enjoy the arrival. Continue on.......................................

[STRIPER]

Sounds like a party bus now!

[Smokin Kevan]

Dude! Enjoy the moments!

Looking forward to seeing it thru your eyes!

Skb

[kaycee]

Nice!! I can't sleep either upon arrival...things to do and people to see!

[justchuck]

Aha! Another GerryG sighting.

[gerryg123]

How nice it was to see everyone again. After pulling into the Seastar's gates, a lot of folks gave me a big hello, particularly the hotel staff, most of whom I know by name after about a dozen visits through the years.

At the bar was Brent from Calgary, one of my running partners from last reach. I was surprised and happy to see him again; he's a married family man back home, but when he arrives solo in Jamaica, he loves to get a little wild and party all night long, and we share a love for Negril

Also making the scene was Fatty, Tawnee, Rasta Stan and, to my big surprise, Keith from Philly, my expat friend for years whom I haven't seen in quite a while. He was a big part of former Trail of Ashes reports, but we've always been missing each other in Negril (he lives here part time in a house across from Banton's). The retired former Wall Street whiz kid is quite a character, and he was eating a meal at the bar with his live-in assistant, known simply as Rasta, and it was nice catching up on things.

I had touched base earlier with Tattoo Charlie, who is staying on the beach. The plan was for the legendary West Virginian tourist to come meet up later, so I had an hour or two to take a shower and chill out in my room.

God, it felt good to be back.

[beachballler]

Keep it rolling, GerryG.....I love hearing about it.... Thursday night has got to include a stop at the Jungle...

[Lady Jane]

More please!