We had dragged our feet as long as possible and it was time to head into the immigration/security process.

Right ahead of us in line was a family of five with teen/tween age kids. They were decked out in the AI's logo souvenir T-shirts. The oldest boy had on a green wrist band (you know, the rubbery type that it seems every cause has so we can show our support). I have seen enough green and orange in the last few days to realize it was in support of one of the main political parties.

As the family gets to the double doors leading to the immigration hall, one of the two ladies manning the door takes exception to this kid's wrist band. For the first time all week I actually understand what is happening and this woman wants scissors. The family is a bit lost at this point, seeming to think she is trying to remove the AI bracelet from their resort. The father explains that no, this is his son's souvenir, one of the resort workers gave it to him. Her voice amps up a notch and there is some finger wagging coming out. She is going too fast for my understanding and the family was clearly in the same boat.

The fuss has attracted the other women manning the door. They start back and forth in patois. Guard Lady #1 is clearly voting for the orange team. Low and behold, Lady #2 pulls up her sleeve and reveals a green bracelet identical to the teenagers. A few more loud phrases slung back and forth and Lady #2 ushers the family through the doors wristband intact and the incident is done.

Man, Jamaicans do take their politics seriously. Should you find yourself there during elections, might I recommend avoiding the colors green and orange, unless you are really prepared to defend your stance. Just my suggestion is all.


I was amazed how much shopping there was once we were through immigration and security. Though it wouldn't support the locals in Negril, I can understand how folks might leave their entire souvenir shopping for when they got to the airport.

Somewhere earlier in this report, I think I mentioned that I am a bit paranoid about keeping an eye on my possessions in the airport. For someone as paranoid as I am, I actually manage to lose things with alarming regularity. Sunshine and I have developed a system to try and identify early when a piece is missing. It is not complicated. At the start of the day, we figure out how many 'detachable' bits we have (bags, cameras, items of clothing, etc) and every time we leave a place we count and make sure the number matches.

It is a simple and effective system, as long as you remember to use it.

We did a bit of shopping for others on our list and bought some Red Stripe gear for Sunshine. I remembered that nutmeg was actually on the list on the fridge back home, so I picked up a bag. We had a bit of time, so stopped for a last Red Stripe at their branded bar. We wandered over to our gate and counted our bits. One is of course missing and it has all of Sunshine's newly purchased Red Stripe gear. Our plane is due to board in like 10 minutes, so we start the mad scramble retracing our steps. Our third stop back, there is our shopping bag, exactly where we left it.

We rush back to the gate and they are already loading up. It is hard to deny that this trip is coming to an end. I am a bit choked up, but I know I'll be back.

We settle into the seats. On the way down, I had thought that the airline seats were design specifically to maximize my discomfort. Coming home it felt like sinking into a feather bed. One thing I will say about the places we visited in Negril, they weren't much for cushions on their chairs.

Somewhere over the mid-west, our breakfast brownie finally wore off. Reality was setting in. Spots on the ground beneath us were starting to be white. Brrrrr. I looked down at my bare feet, still in sandals and wished we were already heading back to summer paradise.