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.Originally Posted by poolguywindsor
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
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.
See the bell tower.
