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Thread: 10 Years, 12 Nights, 6 Hotels, ONE LOVE - April 2012 Trip Report

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    Re: 10 Years, 12 Nights, 6 Hotels, ONE LOVE - April 2012 Trip Report

    As we approached the landing strip at Montego Bay Sangster Airport the cabin pressure slowly rose to a full atmosphere. The pressure in my ears adjusted with lengthy squeak that only I could hear. I felt relief. I had endured a torturous total of 7 and 1/2 hours of flight in what felt like a coffin, and a lengthy 5 hour layover in good old Florida, where Kenny G, Smooth Jazz, Plaid Pants and Polo-shirts had slowly simmered my brain to a mush. The plane touched down with an unusual amount of applause from the cabin.

    I knew I should have been ecstatic. After all, the day, we had talked about and anticipated for months, was finally here. Yet, sleepless travel and exhaustion had gotten the better of me once again. I tried to bottle it up, but inside I was a miserable stinker with a groundless disdain for everyone and everything.

    Disembarking the flying metal tube took the usual amount of patience and self-control. Everyone was in everyone’s way and no one was helping anyone get out any faster. So I tried to hang back and relax until I had the room to get our stuff out of the overhead bins further back.

    This enraged an equally irrational older man sporting the aforementioned golfing attire, who began scolding me, calling me names and telling me, because I was sitting ahead of him I had to get our first. With flushed cheeks and frothing spit, he asked, if I had ever flown before or whether I was just stupid.

    This oddly calmed me down and made me reach for higher ground. At least I am not the only one who doesn't travel so well. And as a bonus, in the eyes of the other passengers, I was now the victim. Hurrah! What a coup!

    Finally out of the plane and up the tiled ramp we went, passed the massive Margaritaville Ad and the latest high school-student art work, towards immigration.

    “Are you guys traveling together? What is the purpose of your visit?”

    Daisy volunteered more than the required information to the officer and got the first of the later common complimentary responses.

    “10 Years! No that’s impossible; did you get married in Kindergarten?”

    “No. Ph-shaw! We got married when I was […]*(* information withheld), see there, in the passport.”

    “Well you look much younger!”

    Stamp! Stamp!

    “Thank you, Sir!”

    We swapped some USD's for Ja-Dollars and finally headed towards the sliding doors, beyond which lay the little picket fence that separates the cab drivers from the arriving passengers like farmers from the cattle at auction.

    As soon as we got out the bidding started, everyone was yelling their best offers, but the guy with the sign that read “Rocky's Taxi” had already won us and we willingly gave ourselves into his care.

    He introduced himself as Wayne. We were early and he seemed pleasantly surprised to have his wait cut short. Slightly nervous and infinitely accommodating, he carried our luggage to the curb and apologized for having to retrieve his vehicle from the parking lot.

    “Just wait here! I'll be very fast!”

    “No worries, Mon!” I replied and gleefully dragged a pack of cigarettes from my pocket, while Daisy rushed to get some fruit-juice from a vendor. A blanket of heat wrapped itself comfortably around me. The sounds of Jamaica, the yelling and honking, the odor of the spices, everything brought back memories, as exotic as they are familiar.

    “THERE IT IS!” It came suddenly and utterly unexpectedly.

    Another driver aggressively tried to solicit his service to me, but when I told him, we already had a ride, he bumped his fist against mine and said “Respect!” with a smile and warm voice.

    My fist moved towards his (Imagine this in slow-motion) and on impact - BOOM! -my nasty mood fell off me like an overripe ulcer that had festered and held on way beyond its expiration date.

    Holy Sh*t! I am in Jamaica! Hell Yeah! WTF am I grumpy about? That “Me”, from the moment before, suddenly seemed like a pitiful brat, a little child with no self-control and no appreciation for its blessings. That's not me!

    I was suddenly the happiest guy on the planet, on vacation and about to be married for ten years, to the most beautiful, warm-hearted and intelligent woman I know! Damn me for needing a fist-bump to remember that!

    I was one person one moment and 'in Jamaica' the next.
    Last edited by Hubby-man; 05-11-2012 at 10:22 PM.

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