On Wednesday morning, I reheated my left-over burger from Ahh Bees for breakfast (they’re so huge, it’s almost impossible to eat one in a single session), and with the ocean a bit rough, it seemed a good day go to Roaring River. However, I had called my friend there, Robert, whom I’ve known for years, and he said they were doing some construction at Blue Hole Gardens, so perhaps the timing was not perfect.
I took the scooter down to the strip, and sure enough I run into cabbie Shayne. He hailed me down and proclaimed the friend standing next to him lived at Roaring River, and that all was irie there, so we should do the trek. So I simply asked his friend about it, and instead of BS, he confirmed Robert’s story about the construction, siding with me and not Shayne.

“Well, nice try Shayne, that just cost you 80 dollars,” I said to Shayne, and we all had a little laugh. Along the way, I had bumped into the wholesale cake guy from a couple of reaches ago; he was driving a motorcycle. Between him and old-man David and the rest of the Negril characters, I’ve seen dozens of old acquaintances as I’ve motored around the past week or so. I decided to run along to Bloody Bay for old-time sake, as that is where I started, at the RIU Club about ten years ago.

I found a little pathway between the brush and parked right up on the beach and kind of took it all in. This was near Office of Nature, and an old lady was setting up some dresses and her wares to sell, and I picked up a few souvenirs. I didn’t need ‘em but what can I say? I’ve compulsive.