I still had time for a little breakfast at the Seastar Inn, then I hung for a bit on my porch with the dog, Boy. I paid one of the maids to fold up all my clothes for me and pack everything away, imploring her -- of course -- to check all the pockets. She said OK but her attention to detail just wasn't good enough. The third pair of pants she folded, I checked them, and sure enough there were a couple of Jamaican bills in one of the pockets, so now I was worried about maybe something more serious being packed by mistake.

Garrett showed up, and I tipped him, too. He deserved it. He's been a good friend, especially on this trip. He suggested that maybe I could head out with Percy, who was making a run to Montego Bay with Kevin from Norway, who wanted to pick up his Jamaican girlfriend who happens to work at the airport. But the timing just didn't work with Percy, and plus I had Clives coming.

Marko was still coming to visit soon to say goodbye and to collect his phone, plus all the things I didn't to bring home with me like the scissors and leftovers (a substantial amount), I was giving to him.