Sunsets, Rum, Sand and Gizzadas 97 Days in Negril

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Originally Posted by poolguywindsor

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!

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Before I carry on any further, I’ve got to come clean on something – the beaver tail post I put up last night wasn’t entirely truthful. While it is true that a beaver tail is a flat piece of deep fried dough that comes with different toppings, it is not true that Canucks go out and club baby beavers, cut off their tails and bar-b-que them. I was just having some fun; the Appleton made me do it.

The weather has turned hot and clear again, but there is a nice breeze. This morning was a gym morning. As we walked there we noticed that there are noticeably more people in Negril; tourists and locals alike. Must be the pre-Christmas rush. There were a lot of people on our local road. They all seemed cheery and full of smiles. Even the guy that offers us opium every time he sees us was happier than usual.

Arriving at the gym we saw that we had it to ourselves. We turned the temp down on the A/C and cranked up the music. Cool. We had it to ourselves the whole time we were there. Bea was bopping around the leg-press machine.

Here’s something I wrote a couple of days ago but didn’t get a chance to post yet.

Bea isn’t interested in going to the beach so I strike out on my own. It’s late afternoon. My mission is to hunt down JT. I want to have a couple of beers at sunset with him, he’s heading back home (Shrunken Bullocks, Winter Hell, Canada) on Saturday. I know he will be either at the Sunnyside bar or the Sun Beach bar or sitting in his chair at the Sea Splash bar or walking the beach in between – that’s his domain.

I walk down the road through my hood headed for One Love Drive in center town.

* * Don’t read this if you are squeamish. * * Really - go down to the photos.

Before getting into ‘town center’ I walk by the big parking lot out behind The Corner Bar which is located on One Love Drive just beyond Scotia Bank. The lot is really just a large expanse of compacted dirt broken by the occasional embedded lump of coral jutting out. There are a couple of trees in the middle of lot which stand out. They’re peculiar because they are situated pretty well in the center of the lot and there are no other trees around them. The trees are spaced about ten feet apart. A long board, a 4x4, has been bolted across the span between the trees, about eight feet off the ground. Several ropes hang from the boards. This is the place where the goats for the kitchen at The Corner Bar are slaughtered, skinned and butchered; right out there in the open. The goats are hung up, alive, by their hind legs and their necks are cut open with a very sharp machete. They are left hanging until they bleed out and die.

Yesterday Bea and I walked through the parking lot and past the hangin’ tree just as they were finishing up. There was a bloody goat hide lying on the ground beside one of the trees, already covered in a swarm of flies. A cardboard box nearby was loaded up with freshly cut up goat meat. A fellow was wiping off his machete.

Today, as I walk by the lot, I see a man leading a ram goat by a rope. The goat is straining at his tether, giving the trees a wide berth. Likely he can smell his impending death.

I point at the goat, “Is he going there?” I said, and then pointed at the tree.
“I don’t know,” the man replied, “I was just told to bring him here.” I notice a route taxi parked nearby with the rear hatch standing open. Two teenage girls walking by notice the goat. They point at it and giggle.

. . . likkle more . . .


The hangin' tree

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This is the red roofed church that you can see from the beach when looking at Negril. Beautiful isn't it? We walk by this church every day. It is well maintained and has a comfy feel to it.
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See the bell tower.
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Great reporting. Love the greenery and the churchyard.

K3 - I'm recently home after a short visit to negril and while the reentry process is always painful, your report is just what I needed. Thank you for taking the time to share with us. I love your writing style and sense of humor. Carry on...

You're freaking out the Americans with your photos and descriptions of 'Beaver Tails'.

You will get asked if you would like a hot beer or a cold beer. Cold is cold, hot is hot. Guinness hot is rather good.

Glad to know all my Ottawa friends are not baby Beaver killers eating there tails!

I love beaver. Have since I was about 10. Didnt try it until I was about 15.

After reading about the beaver tails I was wondering if we would get any jackalope sightings next.

Lmao.... Beaver lovers

Hahaha Flip

Oh geez this took a wrong turn at the beaver! :P

Yes, looking back on this thread, I should have know to stay away from beavers.

So, continuing from where I left off . . . . .

I’m headed for the beach to find JT. I walk by the parking lot abattoir and cross the road to the Chiny Man’s store. I pick out a cold walkin’ beer, a Red Stripe, naturally, from the stand-up window cooler. It’s hot and busy in the store. The Chiny Man’s wife keeps close watch on all proceedings from her raised dias overlooking the floor. I always feel like I’m walking into some kind of post-apocalyptic movie set when I enter that store. The way people are moving around. There are always some guys in the back, watching your every move. It’s just a weird feeling, but I like it.

I exit the store and make my way past the traffic circle and cross the bridge. Off to my right I see the egret tree. As they do every day at this time, the egrets are beginning to congregate at their night roost in the tree on the bank of the South Negril River. Several dozens of the big white birds have already staked out their nocturnal perches. Ahead, the roast-peanut man is making his way across the bridge, headed into town. The steam whistle on his rickety, rusted-out push-cart shrieks loudly as we pass on the bridge.

I want to cut down to the beach ASAP and walk along the sand, but there’s no way I’m going to cut through the craft market; made that mistake once, almost had my arm pulled off. So I walk past the craft market and cut down towards the beach via the public parking lot there. I hear loud dance hall music coming from off to my left. I glance over. A car is parked there; all the doors and the trunk are open. Two young women and a small child are at one side of the car. It looks like they have been at the beach and are drying off and changing, getting ready to leave. Music booms from inside the car – pounding out a catchy beat. One of the young women is dancing to the vibe; nothing unusual there - Jamaican’s dance at the drop of a hat – they’re always dancing.

I’m not a voyeur by nature, but the scene is compelling, so I continue to look in the direction of the car as I walk. The young lady drops down into a really, really low twerk and starts to gyrate and twist, her hands above her head. She’s slim and lithe. It’s an impressive athletic move. Think Flo Jo. She’s smiling and laughing. The other woman starts to dance too, not twerking though, she chooses to remain upright; shakin’, shuckin’ an’ jivin’. The child looks on. Then the twerking woman takes it up a notch, she starts to twirl, shimmy, pump, shake, wobble and jiggle and vibrate while twerkin’ all at the same time. I’m truly impressed. The moves she’s throwing down would make Miley Cyrus blush. The women notice me watching them, they laugh and wave. I move on.

My first beer has gone down quickly, it’s empty and I need another. I hit the beach and head north. The sand here at the town-end is deep and coarse and the beach has an acute slope to it. Hard to walk in. I doff my sandals and strip off my tank top.

I grab my second walkin’ Red Stripe at the first little stand I come across on the beach. I ask the guy behind the counter not to open it. “Yah, mon.” He hands it to me. I take off my brand new Red Stripe hat and use the bokkle opener that’s built into the bill to snap the cap off. There; the first beer opened by my new cap is a Red Stripe on the beach in Jamaica – it is therefore well christened. It should serve me well.

. . . . . . likkle more . . . . .


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A different kind of Jamaican dog. Also well fed.
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The view from this bar is hard to beat, don't cha t'ink?
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These rules look reasonable, except this school only goes to grade six.
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We anxiously await your next update from Jamaica. So glad I found your report, I'm getting information about Negril that is hard to come by. A month is a long time for us to wait till we land, so please continue your modern way of penmanship :-)

I am enjoying this immensely! I have read your book and would love to have another book authored by you.

I just hope I don't get caught checking for your updates at work!! :cool:

Hoping my 2nd job continues to go well so I can see this for myself come March!!

Love the little bar overlooking the sea.

That pit bull pic is awesome. Really digging your report as I live vicariously thru your travels.

Curious, do you have a bruise on your arm from JD tapping you every 7 seconds while he talks to you. LOL. That man is a riot and his intro of Tizzy to you was comedy.

HillCityGurl and Rennie69 - T'anks, mon.

Jaherring – that’s the Sky Bar – just beyond Swordfish, a new (refurb’ed) place.

Booger – I remember my intro to Tizzy very well. You just never know what JT will do or say. It was a Negril moment. A bruise? nah, just a small contusion.

This morning I was listening to IRIE FM (107.1 in Negril), when a guy called in from Lucea. He was talking to Ron Marchette, the host, and was going on about this-and-that. Then he started saying hi to other taxi drivers and people he knew in Lucea and then he sent out big-ups and Merry Christmas to all of his ‘baby mommas out there.’ He named a few; one in London, England, one in New York and one in Minneapolis; then the host cut him off. I figure he was probably only shouting out to his international ‘baby momma’s’.

It was the first time I’d heard the term ‘baby momma’s’. It figures though. Part of the culture here. One of the ladies on the beach, a very nice woman, has nine kids fathered by seven different 'baby momma's'.

Continuing my beach walk from last posting, going north along the beach from Sunnyside. . . .

Walking the Negril beach as a lone male is sure to attract the attention of all of the ‘ladies’ who stroll there. No exception this time, I’m propositioned several times; aloe rub, massage, ‘company’. Eventually, un-rubbed, un-massaged and walking alone, I reach Myrna’s store. Myrna, however, is not there. Too bad. I’d bumped into Myrna (she who wears the big straw hat) up at Sun Beach a few days earlier and we had been admiring the new hammock chairs they have hanging there. We both want one, me to hang from the almond tree out front and she for her home. She was going to check in at the Bashco shop in Sav to see if they had any.

I exit Myrna’s store and walk a few paces to Sunnyside Bar, Maureen (the sweetest bar woman in Negril) is not there and JT is notably absent as well. Hmmmm. I get a fresh cold beer and strike off for Sun Beach.

There is a lot more sand on the beach than there was last year. I can actually walk past Lazy Dayz without having to step on sand bags to stay out of the water.

Passing ‘The Hummingbird’, I glance to my right and see a movement in the shade of a coconut tree there. It’s my old friend Dexter who works at the resort, he’s waving to me. I detour in and take a seat beside him on the edge of a cement deck. We pop fists, exchange greetings and catch up. Several minutes into our discussion he raises his t-shirt to bare his stomach revealing a six inch scar that snakes vertically down his belly. As scars go, it’s not a pretty one.

“Me got an operation in March – dey take out me gall bladder.” Dexter informs me. I know that in Canada gallbladder surgery is performed laparoscopically, four little ½ inch incisions. Patients go home the same day and can pick up normal activities in one or two weeks. Dexter’s scar is obviously not the result of a laparoscopic procedure; maybe a question of money? Don’t know for sure.

“How long were you off work – a month, six weeks?” I ask.
“No, mon. Me off four mont’,” he replies patting his belly, “but me feelin’ good now.”
So, obviously there were complications. Dexter is not a spring chicken. “How about a beer?” I ask him.
“Ahhh, a Pepsi? Me no drink beer no more.” He pats his stomach.
So I go to the bar and get a beer (number four?) for myself and a Pepsi for Dexter. We talk a little longer then say our goodbyes.

. . . . likkle more . . . . .


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This place has been freshly painted, which is a popular thing to do for Christmas here. There has also been a lot of cleaning and raking going on.
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So Kahuna3, are you going to the Scrub-A-Dub on the 27th? LMAO. On a serious note. We'll be at the White Sands on Friday the 24th of January. If you're around we'd love to buy you a red strip if you have the time to stop in?

The lime green & pink place is Sandra's......Great likkle rum shack! Hang there many occasions.

Did not recognize Sandra,s bar in the daylight! lol

What is Scrub a Dub? and are tourists welcome? I have two single male friends coming to Ja with us in Feb, sounds right up their alley.

Yes it will be!!!!!!!!!!!

I tend to be a very... Lets say "open minded" girlfriend... We like to do things together if you catch my drift...lol... Is this more of a dancing place or an "acting" type of place? Just looking at options... Lol... ....slightly embarassed... But not at all at the same time... Depending on who reads and all...

Rennie69 - yah - let's touch base later.

Yes, I thought the Scrub-a-Dub poster was provocative, but no I won’t be attending. I’ll leave comments as to the details of the place to people who have recent experience with it. However, I will share that recently I was advised not to go there. Not that I was considering it, or anything like that. I'm just sayin’

Check this out as a view for a morning coffee . . . . . Not bad, EH? This is the upper deck at Swordfish.

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So, continuing my walk from the last posting . . . .

I continue on a little bit and turn in at White Sands, I want to check in on a new friend, named Dude, that I met there last year.

Francis, the manager at White Sands, raises a pair of breeding Macaws; Tiki and Sinbad. Last year, before we arrived, Tiki hatched a baby; Francis named it Dude. I made friends with Dude. I visited him (or her, we’re not sure) twice a day for a month. I talked to him, tried to teach him to say ‘Leafs suck’, scratched his neck, fed him and taught him to jump up onto my wrist. I really came to like the little guy. I would call out his name as I approached his cage and he would come over to meet me, squawking a greeting.

Here's The Dude - picture taken last year.

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So I cut through the beach side part of the property, cross the road and walk into the office to say hi to Francis, but he’s out. I walk over the parrot cages and stop in front of the big cage that houses Tiki and Sinbad. They are both there, perched on a thick branch that spans most of the cage. I look at them and say ‘Hello’, ‘Hello’. But they just stare back at me. I take the hint and move on to The Dude’s cage. He has one to himself. I call out his name as I approach. He’s at the far end of the cage, but hears me and starts hopping over to me. He squawked a couple of time. Dude loves to have the feathers on his neck rubbed, so I put my hand through the little opening in the door. Dude makes one last hop to arrive at the door. He snaps his head at me and bites my finger. Hard. I yank my hand back out of the cage.

Parrots, even a one year old, have very strong beaks.

Obviously, the Dude doesn’t remember me. I talk to him a little longer but he doesn’t warm up to me; just stalks back and forth in his cage, maybe hoping for another shot at my finger. I’ll have to work on him when we move down to the beach.

I head back out to the road and as I pass Tiki and Sinbad’s cage I wave a hand and say ‘Bye’. One of them, probably Sinbad, screeches an extremely loud and parroty ‘BYE’ at me as I leave.

Myrna's store, with Maureen's Sunnyside bar to the left, mostly hidden by the almond tree.
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Yesterday afternoon, late, we got trapped at the Corner Bar in a big downpour. Had beer and festival while waiting it out.
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I love your Corner Bar pic....FANTASTIC!

That must have been terrible for you being stuck at a bar drinking beer. Do you think maybe Dude is a female? LOL We arrive in MoBay at 1:55. Not sure how long Rocky's cab will take to get us to Negril after Customs. You'd know better. You name the bar and time either at or close to white sands and we'll meet you there. Buying you a beer is the least we can do for all the enjoyment you've given us with yor TR and pictures. Cheers

Corner bar...nice little pool table...won't bite you...as long as you stroke it nice!

Loving the photos! That view from swordfish is awesome.

Like that rain shot at the Corner Bar, what better place to be stuck in the rain...a bar....and in JA.....sure better looking at that photo than all the rain we have been having in Georgia the last couple days!! We have mud hole...I will refrain from using the word puddle in the road going to our house that was literally almost across the one lane gravel road that goes to our house and it was probably 6inches deep this morning!! Yes....I live in rural North Georgia BUT....the little one lane gravel road is a dead end....our house and 2 others. Wouldn't live anywhere else our 10 acres of private heaven on a creek!!.....would like to have an annual extended stay in JA in the Winter!!

Still loving the reports....keeping me going....

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Originally Posted by heater

What is Scrub a Dub? and are tourists welcome? I have two single male friends coming to Ja with us in Feb, sounds right up their alley.

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What is Scrub a Dub? Well that's a loaded question lol! Its a car wash by day, bar/cabaret/strip club by night. The girls there don't really take their clothes off. They mostly reserve that for the private cubicles or the rooms out back. They do dance in skimpy outfits. If your friends are into that kind of action its probably right up their alley. We have been, the wife and I, there a few times and always had fun and never had any issues. Of course we always take our friend Doc with us and he looks after us. I would suggest going with a driver you trust if you're a first timer though.

A couple of years ago we took friends there, one of which is a socially minded lady, she was trying to unionize the dancers by the end of the night. That was pretty classic!

K3, is the corner bar also known as Seaview Sports Bar?

Enjoying your reports!

Thanks,

VVHT

Myrna told me she is having a painting done od herself with her big straw hat on. She is going to put it with her new sign so people will realize she is one in the same

PGW and I took my GF to Scrub-a-dub. We told her it was an after hours dance club. Got there around 2:30 - 3am. I was in trouble.

I didnt really lie to her, I just left a few details out.

Did you stay long??? LMAO

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Originally Posted by Flipadelphia26

PGW and I took my GF to Scrub-a-dub. We told her it was an after hours dance club. Got there around 2:30 - 3am. I was in trouble.

I didnt really lie to her, I just left a few details out.

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Is she still your girlfriend? :)

VVHT – yes, The Corner bar, The Seaview Sports Bar, The Hooker Bar – all one and the same place.

Lady Jane – That’s cool that Myrna’s getting a painting. I’ll check it out, take a photo and post it.

HillCity Gurl – we had another big downpour last night and the clouds are builing up again this afternoon – seems to be developing a patter.

Crusher – you poor guy, I feel sorry for you, I used to live in Regina – the winters are unbelievable there. Go Riders!


If you walk the road that leads to Savannah la Mar in the morning you’ll see the bike taxi guys hanging out at the Redground corner opposite the Shell Station, I think it’s called Winner’s Plaza. There’s usually a posse of about a dozen or so, sprawled on the seats of their bikes, talking loudly to each other as they scrutinize passers-by for possible fares. I believe the route bike fare is currently set at $100J for a ride in the local area. Boldly painted on the concrete wall directly above where they are parked is a sign that states: ‘ABSOLUTLY NO BIKE TAXIS’.

Each time we go by I catch snippets of conversation between the bike taxi guys that are laced with multiple ‘klaat’ dis-or-dat’s. Palpable waves of testosterone emanate from these guys.

The bikes they ride are clean and shiny; they look well maintained. Some of the bikes have had horn modification kits done on them. Car horns have been installed, not the feeble ‘beepy’ type, but the loud ‘honking’ kind. The horns themselves are proudly mounted and painted in bright colours. Like most drivers in Negril, the route bike guys believe that honking the horn repeatedly as you approach a blind corner at breakneck speed projects a force field that will protect them from impacting whatever may lie ahead.

Cool cat at Sunnyside.
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Check the heart tatt on her butt.
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These goats were checking out the sidewalk. Their owner was walking them. She asked me if I wanted to buy one. I said they were too small.
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I think you have made the only sense of the bike horns! "creates a forcefield protecting them from impact"

Although I was with Flip and his girlfriend, I thought all first time tourists knew what a club was in Jamaica? Espeacially with the name Scrubadub!

That little cat at Sunnyside is awesome. She walks right up to women and lets them pet her, but meows then hisses right away at men...just like a woman! I think she has kittens back towards the restrooms somewhere, at least that is what Tony said. Great trip report....I think I seen you and JT by the bank the day you were having him over for dinner, but I could have sworn he had shoes on!?

Kahuna3 that's impressive; you're really talented when it comes to sand sculpturing. :rolleyes:

Yeah. Still my gf. We stayed for about an hour. Got into an argument. Ended up at roof top. Then miyard