NEGRIL TRIP REPORT
As a regular stalker of this board, I regularly read trip reports posted here. I have really enjoyed every single trip report written. Shout outs to Manda, Clarity, Kahuna3, Brasi, Gerry, Patty, Poolguywindsor, Crusher, Markospoon, Hettie and Chad, Jim-Donna, Jasperpso, Guirigay and of course, Rob for starting Negril.com.
I make no promises as to reading enjoyment or spelling and if anything I say causes offense, well, sorry in advance and really, I don’t mind if you stop reading. All you have to do is hit the little back button or turn off the computer.
As to Brasi’s “Trip Report Inclusion Scale”. I am pretty sure this report will fall smack dab in the middle of the scale. What can I say? I am a good Catholic girl with a 21 year old daughter and a 62 year old mother who might read this report, so I will have to leave some of it to your imagination.
Glen and I first went to Jamaica in March of 2006, where we stayed at an all inclusive in Montego Bay. To say I had culture shock, is an understatement. This was honestly, my first time out of the country.
I am a reader and thought I knew all about what to do and what not to do. After about 24 hours in “the compound”, we decided to venture out to Margaritaville. I know, adventurous, right? We began our venture by taking a red plated taxi from the hotel and negotiated the price to Margaritaville in Mo Bay before we got in. Once in the taxi, the driver asked us if we wanted to do some shopping as he knew a really great place he could take us, just a few yards up the street from Margaritaville. Made sure there was no additional price and agreed to check it out.
We passed Margaritaville and about 1 mile later (or so it seemed) the driver told us we were at the shop. We got out and were immediately surrounded by at least a dozen locals trying to get us to come and see their goods. One very nice lady took my arm and told everyone to leave us alone. Under the protective watch of this woman, I was escorted into the store that we were to be dropped at. We got to the door, the woman opened the door for me and then told me when I came out that I needed to go to her store. Slam….the door shuts and there she stands lurking and waiting for us to come out.
The owner of the store, approaches us both, offers us complimentary beers and tells us if we need any help, to let him know. Well, we had 2 beers each and really took our time, hoping the lady outside the door would go away. After our beers began to take effect, we summoned the courage to leave the store and face our lady friend.
As we left the store, we were immediately again surrounded by this lady and 3 very large Jamaican men……..like 6 feet plus over 200 lbs and nothing but muscles. This lady began to lead us behind the store and down a back alley. In the mean time, Glen is in my ear whispering, “What the f(*k are you doing? What the f(*k are you doing?”Over and over again. I finally stop this lady and her “entourage” and ask her where in the world she is taking us. She points to a long row of several shops, all about the size of an American closet. I tell her, in no uncertain terms, is she taking us any further unless she promises to take us back out as soon as we look at her goods. She readily agreed and the 3 large Jamaican men, now take a step back and look at me in a new and different light. (I am woman, hear me roar). Hubby is still in the background, wondering if I have lost my ever loving mind.
We go into her shop, take a look around and spend a ton of money. She had some really neat stuff. We bought jewelry, a shirt, a couple of knick knacks, etc. Yes, we paid full price. What can I say, we were new to this and still terrified. So, after paying her, I then asked her to walk us to the street. She then says, “Come and see mi friends goods first.” I remind her of our agreement (Roar) and she complies. She and the 3 Large Jamaican men, now walk us out to Gloucester Ave and leave us with our goods to find our way to Margaritaville.
With a sigh of relief, we start making our way towards Margaritaville. Along the way, we notice police officers in various locations on both sides of the street (Gloucester) wearing helmets and bullet proof vests. We immediately assume they must be looking for some criminal, who probably escaped prison or robbed a bank or kidnapped someone.
I finally get the opportunity to speak with one of the officers. Me “Who are you guys looking for?”. Him “No one” (with a questioning look on his face) Me “Then why are you wearing that vest and helmet and carrying that great big gun”. Him “In case someone shoots at me”. Me “Guess I probably shouldn’t stand next to you since I don’t have all that stuff”. Him “Ya Mon”.
We ended up at a smaller bar than Margaritaville. I think it was The Jamaican Bob Sled bar or something like that. 1st time in a few hours that we saw “white folks”. So went in, sat down at the bar and ordered beers. I swear we both just sat there for the 1st 2 beers that we CHUGGED and did not say a word to each other. We were just digesting our experience and hoping the beer would soon take its effect. After about 4 beers, we decide that it is time for us to get back to the safety of our compound. We have had enough of Mo Bay.
As we are about to call a taxi, we hear “Glen, Joleen!!”. We look across the street and it is our FAVORITE bar tender Andrew. He comes running over to us. We are so happy to see a familiar face, we almost burst into tears. We tell him how happy we are to see him. He then starts to tell us how he is down on his luck and his Mom needs surgery or something like that and can we help him out. Well of course we can. Glen hands over $20 to Andrew and then asks Andrew if he can help us get a cab back to the resort. Well of course he can, but not until after we go and see his friend at the store just across the street. Oh boy…here we go again. I think we must have had gullible, stupid, and tourist written all over our faces.
We enter into the store and this time, it is a really nice store, very big with lots of goods. The owner of the store was an Indian man and he was very nice, quiet and well spoken. When all was said and done, we ended up leaving there with a couple of 12 packs of American Beer and a couple of gifts to give to our kids when we get home. We negotiated the final price and made him include a ride back to the resort, since we spent all the money we had on us at his store.
After paying for our stuff, he takes us across the street where his personal car is facing inward and there is no way to turn around. So we sit in this car, with no air conditioning, sweating and waiting for this man to make his strategic move to back out onto Gloucester Ave. Horns honking, cars swerving, pedestrians hollering as he blocks the sidewalk. You get the picture.
We finally make it back to the resort, get our much needed American Beer on ice and sit down and start to discuss the day. We thought that the final store ended on a good note, until we started adding up everything we bought and realized that we paid MORE than asking price. And, Glen reminded me of the most important rule we broke that day…..we got into a car with a stranger who was not a licensed taxi driver. Yes, stupid, gullible, tourist.
In the end, we paid too much for EVERYTHING we bought that day, went down a dark alley with strangers in a 3rd world country, got ripped off and took a ride from a guy who was not a red plate taxi. We felt like we had an adventure of a lifetime and the fact that we made it out of Mo Bay alive, made us feel super human.
When we finally landed in America, I vowed never to leave her soil again.
FAST FORWARD TO 2009………..to be continued.
“Uncle Glen and Aunt Joleen, we are getting married in Jamaica”
My niece decides that she and her ever loving are going to have a destination wedding to Negril, Jamaica. Let me tell you, we love all of our nieces and nephews very much and would do anything for them, even return to Jamaica, so we were off.
As a wedding present, we hired a limo to pick us and the about to be hitched couple up at the airport and take us to our resort. I negotiated a price back in the US which included the ride, a 12 pack of Stripes, a bottle of rum, ice and a some cokes. Our flight was slightly delayed and by the time we got into the limo, our ice had all melted, but, the driver stopped right away and got us new ice and off we went.
I felt extremely out of place in that limo and car sick. I ended up laying down for most of the ride otherwise, I was going to lose my cookies. Glen and the niece and nephew seemed to like it and enjoyed the ride.
We finally made it to the Grand Pineapple. After checking in and throwing on our swimming suits, we head out to the beach. I was shocked at the beauty of the water and the sand. I was intrigued by the vendors. I felt safe. I felt calm. I felt like I belonged.
We spent most of our days just walking up and down the beach. We would stop for the occasional Red Stripe or Pina Colada or jump in the water and swim.
We got back home and I immediately began planning our next trip.
