We beat the alarm this morning and woke up at 6:45, plenty of time to be ready for our 8am departure. Unfortunately Sharon woke up with an unhappy tummy and after an hour of walking it around she decided it wasn’t wise to risk a day-long trip – very disappointing. She insisted that she didn’t need looking after, however, and as the trip was non-refundable at this point, we decided I would still go.
I had a quick breakfast at the Regency, put a few things in my messenger bag for the day, and then met up with the two other visitors who would accompany me – coincidentally also Canadians, from London, Ontario. We left in a comfortable shuttle bus that would accommodate about 16 people, and stopped at the Hyatt to pick up several others.
We were then off along the north shore of the island along the A1. Our guide was a wonderful woman who told us stories about some of the local attractions, including the horror of Annie Palmer (aka “the White Witch”), and the landing spot for Columbus. She also gave us background on the national flag, bird, food, etc., and a quick introductory lesson to patois – irie, mon.
Along the way we also passed a bauxite mine that looked for all the world like the set from Dr. No although a little digging shows the actual location closer to Ocho Rios. As we approached Ocho Rios, some two hours after we started, we made a quick stop at Scotchies where we picked up a few more tourists – we’re now about a dozen altogether – and continued south now along a newly constructed Highway 2000.
Here we left the lush coastline and plunged into the rolling foothills of the Blue Mountains. Everywhere is green and beautiful and the road affords some very nice vantage points over the island. The hour down to Kingston flies by quickly as the road is largely straight, wide and fast, with gradual changes in elevation.
Our first stop in Kingston was the Bob Marley Museum on Hope Road, where Bob used to live. No photos are allowed inside, but you can take pictures of his life-size (5’6″) statue on the grounds and a number of other outdoor artworks and illustrations. Our tour guide was a very knowledgeable young woman for whom the stories and history of Bob and his music were clearly quite personal. The tour lasts for about an hour and you get a good overview of the arc of Bob’s life and career as you tour his studio and workspace, the rooms covered with newspaper articles and memorabilia, and the personal space where he lived with his family and where the assassination attempt was made. Behind the main house is the building which was developed into a production facility and later used by his musically gifted progeny; and the gift shop. The tour was very worthwhile if you’re a fan or have even a passing interest into the music which is so ingrained into the culture of this island.
After some coaxing our party back onto the buses, we next made our way to Devon House, an impressive mansion built by “Jamaica’s first black millionaire” George Stiebel in the 19th century. Steibel was apparently a canny businessman and made several fortunes through shipping, gold, and an investment in properties. A tour through the estate gives a window in to a time and lifestyle enjoyed by the wealthy at that time. While we were there we also enjoyed a lunch at the Grog Shoppe on the property, and a “world-famous” ice cream at the I Scream shop behind the main building.
From here we got an interesting first-hand experience of some of the most erratic driving I have ever experienced, with motorists taking advantage at every opportunity, honking used in tandem with braking, and traffic lights only providing a general sense of the traffic flow. Pedestrians swarmed at every slowing of vehicles, compounded by school getting out mid-afternoon – all the schools have mandatory uniforms so the walking population became a river of massed colours moving (mostly) along the sidewalks and cross-walks. Our driver seemed to take it all in stride, though, threading his way through what often looked like a grid lock, laughing at some of the more daring drivers.
Along the way we passed Emancipation Park and the controversial Redemption Song bronze statue at one gate.
Eventually we ended up at the Holy Trinity Cathedral where we had some twenty minutes to take in a magnificent building that has served as the seat of the metropolitan archbishop of Kingston since 1907, when an earthquake levelled its predecessor, the Church of the Holy Trinity. We had no tour here, but just enough time to admire the giant stained glass rose windows, architecture, and statues. I expect it would have been magnificent to have heard its massive organ play.
Our final stop was the National Art Gallery of Jamaica where we spent just under an hour in a place where I could have easily spent a half day. Unfortunately there were no photos allowed here either, so I picked up the gallery catalogue to peruse later. The gallery was larger than I expected, and like most galleries, roughly divided into two parts – the permanent collections and special exhibits. In the time I was there I mostly stayed with the permanent collections, having a look at the c. 1000-1900 pieces, some of the early 20th century work, and the Edna Manley collection – all three of which also trace some very interesting interpretations of the history and cultures that make up the stories of Jamaica.
After a quick look through the gift store, we loaded ourselves back on the bus and made our way home. Our trip was relatively uneventful, with a big rainstorm along the Highway 2000 which appeared to impede nobody. We stopped again in reverse of this morning, first at Scotchies outside of Ocho Rios, and by now I had heard from others on the tour that this is one of the best opportunities for jerk chicken on the island, so for $5 I got a quarter to take with me, though I avoided the hot sauce as “hot” in Jamaica seems to be code for three kinds of hell and I was still two hours from my hotel room. The chicken was very good though!
Around 7:20pm I got back to the resort and found Sharon, who had unhappily spent most of the day in our room “taking it easy.” She was feeling brave enough now to try some dinner, so we opted for The Mariner’s Italian night on the beach. All of the little “picnic tables” were draped with white cloths and we enjoyed a couple of appetizers and split a delicious ravioli entrée.
And that was enough of a day for both of us. We retired to our nicely turned down room, booted up Humphrey Bogart and Gloria Grahame in In a Lonely Place, and wound down our day.
