Sounds like going to the hardware store is about the same as trying to get anything accomplished the DMV.
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Sounds like going to the hardware store is about the same as trying to get anything accomplished the DMV.
Yesterday there was a power failure all through the lower town of Negril. There were quite a few generators running but most of the shops were dark. It was sweltering in the gym – no AC, no fans, no music; it was brutal. On the way back to our place we ducked in at the Quality Traders, which is becoming an almost daily stop for us. They were on generator power. There’s a Cash Pot wicket at the side of the building. I assume they had power from the grocery store and they must have been one of the few Cash Pots locations operating because there was a huge line up at the window there. We had power up at our place the whole time though.
I’m starting to slow down on my writing; I guess my ‘groove’ is settling in. This afternoon we’re having our friend JT over for dinner; he has one more week left before returns back to Winter Hell. JT usually walks around bare chested and bare feet, wearing only shorts and a cap. We are wondering how he will show up tonight.
The menu is:
Drinks, all evening:
Choice of Appleton or Meyers Dark Rum with
- Sorrel
- or Pepsi *
- or Coke *
* optionally with fresh squeezed limes
Appetizers:
* Home-made Plaintain Fries, done in coconut oil
* McVitie’s All Butter Short Bread Sticks
Main Course:
* Jerk Chicken a la Best in the West (We picked up some of their jerk sauce)
* Rice and beans
Desert:
* Dark chocolate cake from the Hi Lo pastry rack.
After dinner we will likely go down to the Dominoes Bar for a nightcap.
So, let’s talk about gizzadas.
PGW, those gizzadas look really good, and there are lots of them too, nice. But your guess re the photos is WRONG. Look at the photos again. Later this week I’ll post another hint, when I find the Time. Maybe another photo too, I guess I’ll have to give it up, eventually, maybe.
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Imagine driving into this pothole with one of those little scooters. The tiny wheel would be swallowed and you would be arse over tea kettle.
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Breakfast on the patio at Charela's . One of our fav spots.
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Today, Sunday morning, we spotted this cruciform telephone pole on our walk. Striking isn't it?
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Holy!
JT will have Appleton and Pepsi, for sure!
Am curious as to the shirt and shoes?
Back to the gizzada,s the picture of the international calling phone, would the be in Sinshine Village, as that is the only place where there would be a quadrangle to eat lunch?
There is some kinda food joints upstairs although I have not gone up there for quite some time?
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Shoeless JT after dinner at Pushcart!
My favorite Jamaica treat is the gizzada. I eat them every trip. My next trip is December 27 and I've only got 4 days there so I'm certainly hoping you give up the location of these gizzadas before then.
K3 wondering if the boys are going to be down at whites sands in march. i know they were not there last year and i know you are leaving a little earlier than expected. the guys with the whisleing football???
justchuck - I'm arriving on the 27th also for a 4 nite quick visit - great minds think alike :) would like the gizzada info before then myself...
Ok, I must chime in too. I won't be keen on the gizzada but know my wife would love them. We are leaving on Tuesday. Need to know so I can get her hooked up, please. Pm me if you must keep it a secret and I wold honor that too.
Respect.
LOL, no pressure Kahuna - give up the gizzadas!
Hi Guy - Da Boyz will be at WS 1st week of Feb, minus Little Jimmy. See you there!Quote:
Originally Posted by guyingb
Okay - to all the gizzada lovers, I'm gonna give up the source of the King Gizzadas, see the following photo. PGW, you were getting close, on the right track.
I have to tell you about our visit to the Dominoes Bar last night. But I won't have it posted until tomorrow, I got busy doing other stuff today, so I'll write it tonight.
This is where you get the King Gizzadas . . . . feast on!
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That appears to be the the snack bar at Time Square!
That's what I think too pgw......
Yes, the King Gizzadas are located at the Caribbean Cafe at the back of the Times square Mall. The photo hint was the old style international calls telephone which is in the same mall. I picked up the receiver, it doesn't work.
So JT showed up for dinner the other night – no shirt, no shoes, no surprise. Did you ever have a bare chested dinner guest? Chest hair at the dinner table in the soft glow of candle light is so, ahhh, je ne sais quoi.
Wi nyam up de chicken, rice an’ peas an’ jink rum
Den siddung undah di ackee tree in de yawd and an’ eat de chawklit cake.
We have fun an’ run joke all de time, den Johny tell me he cyann dawnce to fawt!
There’s a heavy downpour during dinner, a really good soaking. Speaking of which, here’s an interesting factoid. What does a Jamaican man desire when there’s a heavy downpour? He wants to be in a bar with his/a woman at his side.
After dinner, it’s dark and the rain has stopped so we decide to go down to the Dominoes Bar.
We walk thru the hood, there are several people out and about. The evening is hot and sultry after the rain.
We turn the corner from Hermitage onto Redground Road and from there we can already hear the sound of the dominoes slapping down onto the playing surfaces. Arriving there, we see that the place is busy. Scooters are parked helter-skelter, filling the small crushed marl parking lot. The tables are crowded with people playing either dominoes or cards. I notice small heaps of bills on the tables, so obviously these were money games. De place is full up. The whole tableau is lit by several bare light bulbs strung on electrical wires that run to and fro.
We enter the bar, lean on the worn linoleum bar-top and say hi to Renkie, the proprietor. He’s behind the bar rolling up a cigarette from leaf tobacco. We introduce him to JT. Bea and I order beers, me a Red Stripe, Bea a Light. JT asks for an Appleton and Pepsi. Renkie shakes his head, “Sorry, me no ‘ave no Appleton, jus’ dis.” He pulls over a bottle of J&B OP, white – Jamaican firewater.
“Why don’t you have Appleton? What kind of a bar is this? We’re in Jamaica, aren’t we?” JT says.
“Because evry’body ere drink JB, Appleton is tourist rum,” a guy seated next to us at the bar says.
Renkie nods, ‘Ere John, ave a shot of john crow batty, two fingers of JB an’ pipe wata, no ice.”
JT declines, “No, I’ll just drink my water, thanks.” He reaches into his beach valise (a black plastic bag) and fetches out a bottle of wata.
I ask Renkie how he got his name. He smiles, “Well, when me was a likkle bwoy,” he holds his palm out about three feet off the ground, “me used to pee me pawnts an’ walk around, an’ when yuh do dat people call yuh renk, so dat’s how dey call me, Renkie.”
The other fellow at the bar says, “Yah, mon, when yuh pee your pants, dey call yuh ‘renk’, yuh see?”
The clapped-out old-school TV on the bar is blaring out Christmas music; it sounds like Mariah Carey singing, but I can’t tell from the picture, it’s too fuzzy.
This afternoon, the rest of the Dominoes Bar bit . . . . .
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OK ladies, fire away . . .
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K3, good stuff!! Love the runnings in da rum bar....
Remember a story a few years back, hanging at Duece Blanc's rum bar. Guy remarks about a guy that just walked in "Him 2nd City Man". I had no idea what he was talking about, partially due to the consumption of rum and the dialect, but eventually I realized he was saying the guy was from Mobay (2nd city).
Keep it coming....
Thanks,
VVHT
The secret is out! :D Tanks mi fren!
Absolutely dig your writing!
Where else are we gonna learn words like "renk"?
Beach valise eh? That's hilarious.
Your tales are just what we need to get us to spring (and our next reach)
Thanks again! BS
Love the hardware store bit. Too funny!
We’re still at the Dominoes Bar, here's the second part . . . . . . the games continue.
The guy sitting at the bar offers us a hit. He starts to talk about herb. He eyes get wide when he says, “Yuh want to really get crazy yuh take callaloo an’ de green gange an’ bowil it up an' eat it!” He points to his temple. “Yah, mon, it like you in outa space, craaazy, craaazy!” He waves his hands in front of him, making flapping motions.
“I thought callaloo was good for you,” I said.
Renkie chimes in,” Yah, mon, but when yuh eat it wid de green gange, like ‘im say, it make you head go away. Doan do it.” I don’t plan to.
On the TV Mariah Carey has been replaced by the young woman who MC’s the nightly drawing of the numbers for the numerous Jamaican lotteries. The machines tumble and select the winning numbers for several lotteries, but nobody pays much attention until the young lady announces, “And now it’s time for Jamaica’s favorite game, Cashpot.”
There’s a pause at all the tables and a silence falls over the bar. The balls tumble until one drops, then the camera zooms in on it and the young lady announces, “Tonight’s winning number is ‘3’ – DEAD”.
A young Jamaica woman jumps up from her stool and pumps her fist in the air. Everybody looks at her; obviously she has hit the number; apparently the only one in the bar who has. She talks to a guy at another table. They both hurry over to his scooter, she hops on the back and they roar off, presumably to collect her winnings.
Outside on the road people and dogs stroll by (do dogs stroll?). It’s still humid and sultry out.
We decide to go down the road. As we get up to leave Renkie asks me my name, I tell him he can call me 26 – ‘White Man’ on the Cashpot poster (even though I know that 26 is already taken by a long-time Negril resident who works at Ahhbees).
We walk the road a ways down towards town and soon come upon the bar ‘Good Over Evil – Swinging Bar’. It’s open.
An elderly frail Jamaican lady wearing a long dress and a bonnet sits alone at a small table just outside the bar. A Red Stripe with a bent cap resting on its mouth is on the table in front of her. She smiles sweetly at us. After a moment she picks the cap off the bottle, takes a dainty swig, then places the bottle back down on the table and replaces the bent cap back on the mouth of the bottle. I figure she's drinking a 'hot' beer.
I look inside the bar, there’s one white dude in there sucking on a beer. The lady that owns the place, who looks remarkably like the cartoon-ish painting of the woman that adorns the bar’s facade, comes over and talks to us. Soon she is engaged in an intense discussion with JT. JT is a prodigious, recreational conversationalist, so it’s quite normal for him to quickly become deeply embroiled in conversations with people he has just met, or not even met. I usually tune these exchanges out. He’s over there talking with the bar lady, discussing something that requires him to point in different directions. Fascinating. After a minute he motions me over and says, “This lady wants to know where you live.” I start describing where Ottawa (a.k.a. Winter Hell) is, when JT interjects, “No, where in Redground.”
I give the lady the details as to where we are staying. She warns us not to walk back the way we came. “It’s dark down in that little gully and if you go back to your place that way you will get robbed”, she states emphatically. She then tells us to go back via the ‘church corner’ route, it’s safer that way. We thank her for her advice and continue walking toward the town center.
Eventually we get to the big parking lot out behind the Corner Bar. We say goodnight to JT, he’s headed back to the beach. We walk home via the suggested ‘church corner’ route.
We don’t get robbed.
I gotta tell you - Redground ain't the beach and it ain't the cliffs. It's a likkle edgy, but I'm beginning to love it here, warts and all. The people around us are getting to recognize us and they are friendly. I love the kids up here. There are a two sweet youngsters that come up the road a couple of times a week selling cake that their grandmother has just made. BIG pieces of cake for $100. I've bought a couple of pieces from them. When they see us walking up the road they recognize us and call out greetings.
Some impotent people eating at Sweet Spice.
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I'm loving the tales of your adventure. You are giving us a perspective of Negril that we rarely see here and its fun to envision through your words.
And, I really do appreciate learning about the gizzadas! Thanks
Thanks for letting us walk with you. But Kahuna, won't you miss skatin' on the Rideau???
Really enjoying your report - my kind of trip. The pictures are wonderful too - like walking along on your journey. Like the "cat" bar - will have to check that out since I love cats (and dogs) too. And I'm a gizzada fan too.
LOVE your report - awesome writing and so fun to read. I'm probably an idiot, but what's a "hot beer"?
LOL - they're talking of opening it this weekend - that's how freakin' cold it's been... Smart move Kahuna leaving when you did :)Quote:
Originally Posted by dash
a hot beer" as Jamaicans call it ,is beer that hasnt been refrigerated (room temperature)
"Some impotent people eating at Sweet Spice"
Curious how you gained that sort of knowledge. Lol
Thanks for giving up the gizzada location, now I can sleep at night again!
Reading that it was just like being there, I could almost here that conversation JT had, I think I have been in that same one before!
That pastry shop has a heck of a lot more than gizzadas. Amazing banana bread, and I got a plantain tart there (but the inside was red, so confused me) which was pretty awesome.
I missed guessing the location, but had it from the first photo clue... That phone is in a couple of pictures I have from our trip.
Now that I’ve given up the source of the King Gizzadas, I just know I’m gonna go in there one day, really, really looking forward to having one – and they’ll be out. Maybe I’ll have to try a plantain tart (Thanks Hussyband)
Booger – the ‘impotent’ wasn’t a typo. You know the saying - 'The bigger the truck, . . . . '
2nutz and Dash – I actually do like skating on the canal; steaming hot chocolate, beaver tails, the sound of the blades on the ice – it’s fun. But the price of having to stay in the cold is just too high to pay. I’m good with being here right now.
Onceyougo, justchuck and rachel – thanks, I’m having fun writing it. I’m actually toying with the idea of working it over when I get home; polishing, expanding, editing, characterize, etc, and put it into an eBook format. Any ideas for a title? Rob has told me that I should do a sequence to my travelogue, ‘Walk Good’ and call it ‘Walk Gooder’.
Walking by Lazy Dayz the other day I saw them pulling out one of the cabins there. Here are some photos.
Later – a report on the monthly market and an amazing mango!
Backing the cottage out was interesting to watch, lots of yelling and crunching and pieces falling off. They had to cut down a small palm tree.
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Going, going, gonzo.
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A Jamaican mobile home.
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Loving your trip report and FYI, Leighton on the beach sells those Gizzadah's (Sp) I think his mother makes them.
Well done T/R so far.
Thank you sir, may we have another?
Your insights about the off-the-beaten-path parts of Negril (Redgrounds bars etc.) are truly appreciated.
I do have a question:
What are beaver tails (I live in the states)?
When we say beaver, I'm pretty sure we mean something else.
Yes, she does & they're wonderful ~~Quote:
Originally Posted by heater
Rum_etc. With a name like yours I'm sure you have experience with the mighty beaver. But here we are talking the lowly beaver. Beaver Tails are a Canuck delicacy. Kinda like how we club baby seals, we have beer parties where we go out and club baby beavers, because the tail of the baby beaver is what we use to make beaver tails. Then you cut 'em off and you can bar-b-que them or batter them and deep fry them, then roll them in sugar. Either way they are delicious. There are food-shacks set up that sell them ; > )Quote:
Originally Posted by Rum-polephoreskin
See the photos:
Where you can buy beaver tails.
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A raw one on the bar-bee
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Cooked beaver tail - MMMMMMMM!!!
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A sugar coated, commercial style beaver tail.
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Have any of you had "grater cake"?
It is best to wash the beaver thoroughly before eating....
Yesterday we had the most amazing mango – the lady I bought it from, one of the fruit vendors in town, called it a papaya mango. Check out the photo. It was naturally ripe, plump and sweet and bursting with juice. I swear it squirted out juice when I cut into it. The flesh was tender and succulent, not stringy or pulpy whatsoever. We dug into it with relish; finished it in no time. Then I went to work on the pit like it was a piece of jerk chicken, holding it in my hands and stripping it clean with my teeth. It was delectably delicious - a fruity bacchanalia. Afterwards my hands, forearms, chin and cheeks were covered in thick, sweet mango juice; I had to take a shower to clean up. Eating this papaya mango was an experience that was on par with biting into a King Gizzada.
Today was the monthly market day in Negril. The market is held in an open field just north of the bridge on the beach side. We walked down there from our place. It was a hot morning and much, much hotter in the market area. There are many stalls and tons of fruit and vegetables, all at rock-bottom prices. Most things are sold by the pound, just like rope. The prices are posted on a big board. We stocked up on scallions, oranges, papayas, tomatoes and bananas. Bea bought some sorrel and ginger – she wants to make up her own sorrel drink, a popular thing in Jamaica at Christmas. We also bought our Christmas fruit cake, yah, mon. It weighs a pound and features chocolate. Can’t wait until next Wednesday!
It was so hot in there that by the time we left the market we had little streams of sweat running down our backs. This afternoon however, it is raining in Negril.
Tomorrow we plan to walk up the West End Road.
The papaya mango beside a papaya.
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Cheap, mon!!
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The FRESH fruits and vegetables in Jamaica are a true blessing.
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The funky looking purplish stuff that looks like insect bodies is sorrel.
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Scallions by the truckload!
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Love the pictures from the outdoor market!
Hubby and I stayed in Red Ground at Plantation House Resort atop the first hill 84-98. Have not been back since
we moved to New Mexico where the winters are better than the midwest where we lived then.
I miss Negril, soon come.....
Wondering if by chance the ice cream man's name is Livingston. If his legs could last that long, tell
him high from karen and steve from minnesota.
Missin our winter visits big time.
so much niceness. thank you for the beautiful sights, and insights. enjoying the ride. warms my fingers enough to tighten up the laces. soon come
Learn something new every day, I always thought beaver tails were just a deep fried piece of dough with sugar, kinda like an elephant ear!
Really enjoying your reports, it makes me feel like I'm right there along with you :)
Thanks for the link on the monster Gizzadas, now, lets move on to best Grater cakes and my all time fav Ginger Coconut Drops (hot ginger, sweet coconut and brown sugar).:p
I loved the Farmer's market today.,well guess it is now yesterday. The place was truly electric! Tunes of recordings of Tessanne from the show and great food everywhere. So happy to just be here! Thanks for the great pictures.