I was referring to fellow expats.Originally Posted by Laurel
I was referring to fellow expats.
Laurel I think what Gerry was trying to say is that you don't find many young ex pats living in Jamaica and that most you encounter are older. I don't think he was making any kind of judgement about the guy or the situation.
Some people were born in the wrong century....I was born in the wrong country!
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Spaghetti w double lobster tails
Bloody Bay as beautiful as ever
Driving along just as school is letting out
Hangin' with top cabbie Shayne (The Mighty Californian is on the left)
That's a funny looking cigerett butt in the ashtray 123 :-)
Spaghetti w double lobster tails
Bloody Bay as beautiful as ever
Driving along just as school is letting out
Hangin' with top cabbie Shayne (The Mighty Californian is on the left)
Nice looking baseball cap
Here is some video in front of Seasplash. I think I said "Seastar" by mistake but there are no double-takes in my world:
Great video Gerry. The beach looks even wider than in December. Ya mon
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Marko had mentioned a red-plate driver named Manny for dirt-cheap local prices for cabs. For a mere ten dollars, the guy was willing to drive three of us – me, Kevin and his Montego Bay girlfriend – all the way to Half Moon Beach, sit there and wait for us for two hours, then return us to Seastar Inn.
Even a bargain hunter like me thought it was too little and offered 20 dollars, and away we went. Half Moon Beach is a special place that I try to visit on every reach because it’s totally secluded, and never ever ever are there any hustlers or anyone trying to hustle you or give you a sob story or anything like that.
We rolled up, then Manny rolled up. We jumped in the cab and made a right down the hill, past the roundabout, through seven-mile and the RIUs, about 15 minutes further just past Rhodes Hall to Half Moon. It was as beautiful as I had remembered, but Murphy’s Law set in soon after our arrival with some rain. Would you believe it? The only significant rain in my 12 days in Negril happened to occur when I was twenty miles away on a secluded beach. But we found shelter and made the most of it, and the trek was still a lot of fun.
I met John there again, the old British expat who is always at Half Moon. He didn't remember me, but he didn't lie about it, and I give him two points for that.
My notes say I enjoyed ice cream after arriving back at the Seastar Inn, where because it was raining the staff had umbrellas ready for us as we got out of the cab – a nice gesture. Among those at the bar were Chris, Captain D, Brent from Calgary, Garrett and three Rasta’s in the corner drinking punches and enjoying a series of spliffs.
I ate my left-over pasta and lobsta and eventually finished the night with a slice of chocolate cake.
It was a good day in Negril.
I was supposed to go spear-fishing with Vincent on Thursday morning, but he had some issues with his boat, plus Roger also was not available, so another sea captain named Mike took me out, and I caught a garfish, the biggest fish of the trip.
On the way back, I was in my usual routine, stopping in at the first jerk-barrel guy who had chicken ready, and this time it was Blue Dandy. I had my spear gun with me – every five seconds a local asks if he can please have it when I depart -- so I thought I would try to do some more spear-fishing in front of Canoe Bar, where I had rented snorkel gear before. But this time, the lady at Canoe had no idea what I was talking about when I asked about a mask and fins – bewildering, but I’ve learned through the years not to let ANYTHING surprise me in Negril.
Still had the itch, so I headed to Xtabi, where they had lots of snorkel gear, but as things turned out, the ocean was a bit too wavy and cloudy, and I couldn’t see much. I’ve probably met 100 people who say they’ve enjoyed snorkeling off the Cliffs, but I’ve barely ever seen a darn thing out there, and I’ve tried it a lot.
On the way back to Seastar Inn, I saw Nicky on a scooter with another tourist. She ignored me, this from a woman who had once said she loved me!
At Seastar Inn, I heard a voice call out: “Ya mon, gerryg123.” It was Luciano. I couldn’t believe it. He had not shown up for the New Year’s Eve concert a week earlier, but I guess they worked it all out, as I heard he was not available because of travel issues. The legendary reggae singer (this is the one time where I don’t use the word “legendary” lightly) has apparently developed a strong friendship with Seastar Kimbo, who says he even sometimes hosts Luciano in his own home in Canada, and together they were hanging out on the porch right next to me. At one point, the maids came to my room, and I told then Luciano was next door, and they got all giddy and scuttled over to say hello.
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