We get back to HSH in time to grab a nap before dinner. This whole nap in the afternoon thing is just seriously addicting. We get up around 5, Sweetie Pie wants to be extra delectable tonight and needs an additional 10 minutes. She is smashing and I do my best to look worthy of taking her arm.
We go out to grab a taxi. There is never a taxi waiting at HSH, you have to flag one down. I figure we’ll have our first experience with a route taxi. So here we are, two decked out tourists on the side of the road and we flag down a red plate. “200 to Catcha Falling Star?” I ask. The driver nods his head and I open the door for Sweetie Pie then jump around the other side. There is another Jamaican in the front seat. The ENTIRE ride from HSH to Catcha he is complaining about tourists riding in the route taxi’s and how 200J is not enough to be taking us all that way. From his expression, tone and what I understand of what he’s saying it’s pretty clear he doesn’t think I understand him at all. The driver stays silent the whole ride. When we pull up to Catcha I hand the driver 500 and as he reaches for change I put my hand up, “All good, Brudda.” I smile thinking about their conversation after we leave. I am less inclined to use route taxis in the future.
As we head into Catcha Sweetie Pie is looking around. “I don’t remember this place. Where are we? How did I miss this?” she says as we step up to the front desk. “Reservations for the Hundred Candles,” I say. “Welcome Guirigay and Sweetie Pie!” says the front desk lady. Sweetie Pie shoots me just the look I was hoping for – a barely controlled sense of excitement and anticipation. We are escorted through a lush manicured garden that winds amongst the cottages. We pass under flower covered trellises and catch a glimpse of the huge thatch covered bar. “Would you like to grab a drink first?” asks our escort, and we head to the bar. “Your waitress will be with you shortly,” says the gentleman and he quickly disappears. As we grab our first sips of Rum and Ting Sweetie Pie looks out across the cove at a table set with flowers and candles on its own private terrace. She looks at the table and then at me with eyes open wide as her heart. “Yes sweetie, that’s our crib for this evening.” The look on her face is priceless and brings me great joy.
Shortly our waitress Karen arrives and introduces herself. “Would you like to see your table?” she asks and takes us out to the terrace. A bottle of bubbly sits in its ice bucket. “Champagne?” asks Karen. We have just started our cocktails but on a night like tonight the only possible answer to that question is, “Of course!” We toast the evening and Karen asks if we would like a couple of pictures. Karen seems to make a habit of asking incredibly easy questions. What a lovely lady.
We grab our drinks for a little walk around before the sun sets. The cliffs at Catcha are amongst the best in Negril. Stairs and walkways cross along the cliff face at multiple levels. As these walkways stretch along they meet alcoves in the cliff face at different locations. These alcoves have little terraces built out from them and a variety of chairs, chaises and thatch umbrellas grace the different terraces. There are places where you may have a perch above you and one below but you would never know they were there sitting in your own little private rookery. A normal talking voice is washed out by the white noise of the sea on the cliffs so there is a true sense of seclusion even though you may be less than an easy lob from your cliffmates. We head for the farthest perch, looking around the point over to Ricks and enjoy a few minutes of that intimate isolation. Sweetie Pie looks aglow the soft hues of the setting sun.
