Chapter 3

“And suddenly you know: It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.”
― Meister Eckhart

I don't think I will ever tire of that first sighting of Jamaica


Or the final approach into MoBay. Now any landing that gets the plane and passengers to the gate intact is successful. I certainly wouldn't call this one graceful. I know I'm not wrong on this, because when my father, who retired after 35 years in aviation, saw the video his face got this rather disapproving look on it. I'd certainly started to hold my breath.


There will be more pictures are this report carries on, but I am sure you can appreciate taking pictures had kind of fallen off my priority list at this point.

At least our front seats got us to immigration ahead of most everyone on the flight. In what seemed like only a couple of minutes, we were through to the baggage claim. And then we waited, and waited, and waited some more. Bags from our flight came along and then nothing. There was a group of us still waiting with no luggage when the luggage carousel stopped. I'm trying to keep my cool, but it has been a long day/night and I just really wanted my bags. There is of course no one at the baggage counter to answer any questions. Thankfully, after a few more minutes, the carousel started back up and not long after our bags arrived.

Last stop at customs and we were through the doors and out to the taxi entrance. Half a dozen pairs of inquiring eyes turned our way. I said Kingsley James and three hands pointed his way while the others turned to the next person coming through the doors.

I can still perfectly remember that first woosh of air as we walked out the airport doors. We were under a protective cover, but I can see the bright sun reflecting on the pavement in the parking lot in front of me. It looks right, it sounds right and it smells right. There are so many infinite possibilities in that first moment. Though the journey had already begun, our adventure was only just getting under way.

Kingsley went to get the van. I left Sunshine with the bags and went to the bank machine for some JA$. There was another passenger from our flight whose ride hadn't worked out as expected, so he was joining our ride. I would have been happier if it been just the two of us, but I'd rather Kingsley make the extra fare. I will say for someone who was essentially a hitchhiker, the extra fare sure wasn't very gracious. He took shotgun without even asking and seemed rather put out when we wanted to stop.

Kingsley of course had a pair of cold Red Stripe waiting for us. We took this picture and had our first sips. Then Sunshine pretty much held onto his beer until I traded him for my empty. I couldn't just let it go to waste.


I had originally thought we would stop at Green Island for some jerk pork, but I was pretty darn sure that wasn't what Sunshine wanted to do at this point. I was starving though and wanted to get something before we got to Negril. After a bit of back and forth with Kingsley, we settled on a stop at Juici Patti in Lucea.

Despite the fact that I had hardly slept in the last 24 hours, I was riding high. Not even a full year before I had arrived in Jamaica somewhat terrified; optimistic, but still terrified. I didn't know what I would find and how I would cope. Now here I was pulling into a crowded parking lot in 'real' Jamaican town and I was almost bursting with excitement.

Into the Juici Pattie we charged. I knew I wanted a cheese pattie. Sunshine was really just there for moral support. So I ordered up 2 cheese patties, 2 banana breads and 2 juices. I'm guessing it was just after school time, as the road was crowded with children in their uniforms amongst the people coming to and from work or the shops. Our food was up in a matter of moments. I was disappointed; I could have happily sat a while and observed the ebb and flow of the community.

Back in van, I take my first bite of pattie. I don't know what I was expecting, but the cheesy, beefy, spicy goodness far exceeded my expectations. It was so flaky it was all I could do not to cover Kingsley's clean interior with my crumbs. It was piping hot and I savored every bite as the not yet familiar sites of the road to Negril flew by. My poor broken Sunshine opted for a juice.

It wasn't long before we made the last curve and the resorts of Bloody Bay began to appear. Our hitchhiker got dropped off not too far into Long Bay and the vibe in the van lightened right up.

We had two stops to make, the first of which was Shamrocks. We had been dreaming of our next taste of that famous orange juice for 354 days and we weren't going to have to wait any longer. Juice and few other provisions acquired and we were back under way. One more stop and we were onto the West End Road.

My memory of the drive seems to be a series of snap shots in my head. I can see Mi-Yard and Canoe. As Jenny's appeared on our left, I knew we had only a few curves to go. Then just like that we pull up the castle gates and with a beep, beep and they open and we are home. The king and queen have arrived.