In 1975, my husband watched a 60 Minutes interview with Bob Marley. He and two buddies decided right there, to go to Jamaica to find him. They drove their Honda Civic to Miami, and Air jamaica to MoBay. They camped at Perseverance for a dollar a day, and ended up staying for a month. They were 3 eighteen year old guys living the dream. Fast forward to 1997, now married, we brought our kids to Mexico, on the Pacific side. The water was cold, rough, and had heavy undertow.... to which my husband says "this is crap, now I really have to bring you to the Caribean".
So in 2000, he brought me to Negril. We stayed at Country Country, which was beautiful, but culture shock. No TV, no AC, no phone, no radio... nothing but each other and our little cottage on the beach. We remembered why we got married in the first place. We knew then, that Negril was the secret to a long marriage. We've been married for 33 years. Forget about everyday problems/kids/jobs.... just go to Negril and play like teenagers.
We've gone back at least once a year, some years more. Its where we run away to. The sea calls my name.
