Traffic Jams But Time To Kill

E-mail this Article

Print this Article

Subscribe to RSS Feed

Traffic jams - always a pleasure.

By Tristan Holme

Arriving in Jamaica brought with it an air of satisfaction - a long-held joke among friends of going to the supposed capital of rastafarian culture had been achieved. The question was, what next?

With no set plan and a few days to kill before Sunday's opening ceremony, I decided to head straight for Negril, the western-most town on the island touted as the most chilled in Jamaica.

Getting out of Montego Bay proved to be something of an ordeal as we fought through one of the worst traffic jams I've seen for some time, only made bearable by the blaring tunes of Irie FM - one of several reggae radio stations that play the country's hallmark music without pause.

Everyone is extremely friendly in Jamaica, the only problem being that EVERYBODY wants to sell you marijuana.

I'd barely been in the taxi five minutes when the taxi driver was reaching into the roof of his omnibus to pull out the most potent-looking ganja I've ever seen grown outdoors.

"We know how to grow it right, ya know mon!"

And when I arrived in Negril late last night and was shown to my room by the owner's nephew, the fellow clearly figured he had hit the jackpot and did his absolute best not to leave me alone.

"You alright if ya walk around wiv me mon, no one gonna bodder you," he proffered.

Of course the reality was that he was just like anyone else, but he wanted to be sure that any purchases I made went through him and not someone else.

Indeed I was forced to flee that abode this morning just to shake the bastard off my tail in search of peace, sanctuary and a touch of solitude.

Meanwhile, the place is chock-full of Americans on 'Spring Break', along with the usual assortment of tourists from the first world.

No cricket lovers here, just an endless stream of foreigners walking up and down the beach looking for the next party with locals offering them all sorts of goods and services every fifty metres.

It's clear that the coast is just one long stretch of tourist havens, with all the locals wanting a quick chat in the hope of selling you something. It seems that inland is the place to be if you're looking for a piece of the traditional Jamaica, which is more my cup of tea.

Anyway, that will have to wait for later and I'll just have to make the most of this stunning place in the meantime. After all long, scenic beaches with a beautiful warm sea isn't the worst place in the world once you learn to dodge the hustlers.