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If this is your first trip to Jamaica, especially if it's your first trip to a country where the kitchens don't have a toaster, electric coffee maker, electric juice squeezer, electric warming tray, knife sharpener, can opener, phone, TV, net terminal, cell phone, crock pot, toaster oven, ice maker, food dehydrator and sledge-o-matic, here's some advice. This is all from my own perspective. Please don't be offended by anything here. I offer my experience for anyone who might never have traveled to another country on their own and may need the suggestions. And for those who can appreciate the humor of my situation.
Most of this story sounds like I don't like Jamaica. Please see the humor and read it to the end.
The last 2 trips I made to Jamaica (which were my first) I'd gone with someone to very nice resorts. The last time I took an adventure vacation was when I was about 20 years old. Now I was 40 and alone. Also, my adventure travels in my 20's were solo and I developed a strong habit of safety first. When you travel alone you don't have anyone to watch your back. Now I was traveling to a developing nation where as far as I knew, I had to depend on myself. I couldn't depend on the police, hospitals, tourist agencies, telephones, food, toilet paper, soap or even water. Not that you can let your life depend on any of these things in any country, but in the states, Canada, Europe or with an organized tour, you have certain expectations. In Jamaica, by myself, beyond Ocho Rios, I didn't know what to expect.
Also mixed in with this, Jamaica has an unfortunate reputation for being dangerous for tourists. This reputation is a lot of horsefeathers and that's why it's unfortunate. But when I struck out on my own, I prepared for the worst. I figured if I had any trouble I could pull out the plastic, grab a cab and flop at the nearest hotel. I estimated the worst it would cost me is US$300-500. Of course, to me this would be a major disaster. US$300-500 would increast the cost of that vacation by 20-30% for nothing. And, as I tend to adjust immediately for unexpected costs, it would mean that I sit in my room and not spend another dime for the rest of the week.
I finished with MoBay customs & immegration about 3PM. It was hot. I'd come from Chicago in January. I didn't feel like lugging my 2 heavy bags (pack lite, remember?) from the Charter to the Domestic terminal where you catch the bus to Port Antonio. I also didn't feel like arguing with the cab driver so I paid the US$5 for the ride. About 200 yards as the crow flies.
For US$20 they put me on a tour bus to Ocho Rios. That's slighty too much for that ride, and I don't know who split the $20 (Gingrich would love the Jamaican economy). But they were nice enough to knock people off a full bus so I could get the first bus out. It was nice of them because I needed to get moving. Though I didn't know it, I had a long ride ahead.
I asked everyone I dealt with if there would be another tour bus from Ochee to Port Antonio. I was specific about it being a tour bus and not public transportation. Everyone told me "no problem, mon" but they wouldn't say that it was a tour bus. I'm not afraid of public transportation. It's just that a public transportation bus driver doesn't care if you come back again. He doesn't have any incentive to see that you have that warm, fuzzy feeling. Very interestingly, it turns out that that night in Jamaica, the bus employees (driver & conductor), out of the goodness of their hearts, did watch out for me.
The ride to Ochee was uneventful. Some people on the bus were impressed that I had enough guts to strike out on my own without a guide. That gives you a feeling of accomplishment. I kept asking the driver if there was a tour bus from Ochee to Porty. He finally admitted that he didn't know. He sounded hopeful, but said I'd have to check it out when I arrived. About 4:30PM in Ocho Rios, after letting everyone else off at their resorts, he told me that there were no more tour buses to Port Antonio and let me off at a stop where I could catch the Supa Bus. (sic. I thought I heard 'Super' but Supa is how it's spelled on the bus)
Now it's 5PM on a Wednesday at a bus stop in a local part of downtown Ocho Rios. Rush hour. A sea of people. Literally. It was mobbed. People from one side of the street to the other. Black people.
I was the only white face in sight. What's the problem with that? Unique, unexpected situation, that's what. I won't argue how much was prejudice or past experience mixed in with the unique, unexpected situation. That was in there too. But if you read the link "horsefeathers" above, you know that I just don't like being dropped into situations I'm not prepared for. Not on vacation. What was unexpected? I didn't know. That's why it's called unexpected. That was the first time I'd been the only white in a crowd of black people. The shoe was on the other foot. Not that it was inherently dangerous. Just different. And different can distract you when dangerous comes around.
It's 5:30PM. Finally the bus came. I tipped the guy who helped me get my bags on the bus. I was charged 2 fares because I kept my bags on the seat between me and the window thereby taking up 2 seats. That's fair but not something I'm used to. I'm also not used to paying US 50 cents to travel 60 miles. Two stops later 127 school children got on the bus. The shoe's really on the other foot now because I'm the only white man on the bus and all the 10-14 year old school girls are starring at me. Now the bus begins to make stops every 100 yards. Great. It's 66 miles to Porty. Mmmm. Let's see....simple algebra... 66 miles, times 25 miles per hour, divided by the cube root of 100 yards. Add in the inverse integral of the hard bus seat plus the hot sun..... oops. No need to worry about the hot sun any more. This is January and it's 6PM. The hot sun just went down and you can't see the scenery any more. It's night already. I hadn't planned on that either.
I'm getting tired now. I didn't even notice it then. But I was. I was probably getting hungry too. The seat was getting harder and I was beginning to not enjoy the vacation so much. I'm sure that the scenery would have been beautiful if I could have seen it. I couldn't see anything but the lighted inside of the bus reflected in the dark windows. Every time we went through a town, it looked dismal because the street lights were small, few and far between. The bus windows were tinted. It was hours of an old British Leyland diesel bus lurching away from stops, around corners and bumping on the hard seat.
The bus stopped in Annotto Bay. A dingy bus stop lit by 1 or 2 60 watt bulbs. Several street vendors selling things. I'd love to get out and get something to eat. At least I'd feel safe drinking a bottle of soda. But I wouldn't feel safe leaving my bags on the bus and I'll be damned if I'll schlep them off the bus and maybe lose my seat. Mmmmm.....do I have to go to the bathroom? Hadn't planned on that either. Well, like I said. I knew this might be an ambitious undertaking.
About 10 or 11, the bus is about to pull in to Port Antonio. The bus conductor, a woman, seemed to be talking about me to a young boy. I'd asked her to let me know where to get off. All of a sudden I realize that the conductor has gotten off the bus. The young boy comes back to where I'm sitting and tells me that the conductor asked him to watch out for me. Yeah, I believe you buddy, but I'd feel better if the conductor had told me that, rather than take your word for it. We pull into town. I'm bigger than the kid (not by much) so I feel OK letting him carry one of my bags.
At the bus stop in Port Antonio I notice 3 things really quickly. 1) If we're where I'm told we are, I should be able to see the ocean. I can't. 2) There are a lot of rastas at the bus stop who want to carry my bags. I'm not used to rastas. 3) It's dark.
The young boy tells me that he knows where my hotel is. It's just down the way. (yeah, right. Like they'll be a tour bus from Ochee to Porty) Now the kid starts to walk up a hill. The hotel's on a peninsula between the two bays. If we're going to go toward the ocean, shouldn't we if anything, be walking down hill. Dim as the light is in town, it looks dark at the top of the hill. This is the point where this helpful young man decides to put me at ease by saying, "You're lucky you found me to help you. Some of those guys at the bus stop might have tried to rob you." Naturally, I thought I was going to get it right there. Fortunately, I saw some light at the top of the hill and just then two German girls were walking towards us. Fortunate because German is my next best. They assured me that the hotel was just ahead at the top of the hill.
I've said a number of times that everything looked dingy. Electricity in Jamaica is relatively very expensive. Not much is lit at night and what is lit isn't lit like downtown Vegas or Chicago. That's a wonderful thing once you get used to it. The nights are dark. Lots of stars even in town. Once in a while the power goes off at night in Port Antonio. If you're sitting at Junior's outdoor bar in the market late at night when the power goes out it's georgeous. Lots of stars, your arm around a friend, quiet, a cool drink, a cool breeze, the ocean, palms swaying, remember the foot of snow and -5 degrees back home. Outstanding. Once you are used to it.
I entered the hotel. It was not really well lit, was very old and after my long trip, seemed not very hospitable. I was informed that even though I'd reserved a room with bath, only rooms with bath down the hall were available. I was not happy with that. I have no real objection to shared bath, but, again, as I like to make things a little safer & less complicated the first time out, I'd requested the room with bath. What I was unhappy with was that the hotel had seemingly not complied with my wishes. I was concerned that they might be undependable.
I was shown to a room that, though old, was furnished with a twin bed, a full sized bed, wardrobe, dresser and sink. I dropped my bags on the twin bed without unpacking and thought perhaps to be out of there and into a more luxurious resort in the morning. I had come 133 miles and it took 7 grueling hour to do it. That's for what in Chicago would be a 2 hour ride. Maybe 3 1/2 by bus.
Well here's where the story gets better. I went down the hall for a shower. The facilities again, though old, were in good repair. The bath was spotless. I showered, changed and was refreshed. Downstairs, though the dining room was closed, there was a tiny bar that was open. I tipped a few and felt better. That evening before the bar closed, 5 or 6 other tourists drifted through. I even got another chance to practice my German. The bartender was a personable young lady and the service was fine. The Jamaican breezes were blowing and I felt much better. I returned to my room and decided to follow my own advice which has worked so well for so many years. I resolved to get a good night's sleep and see how things looked in the morning!
In the morning things looked better indeed. I took breakfast in a dining room beautifully appointed with chock full china cabinets, chandeliers and white table cloths. It was as if I was in someone's grandmother's home. When I stepped out into the street I found the reason I hadn't seen the ocean the previous night. There was one row of houses between the hotel and the shore. Those houses were on a cliff, which explained why we had walked up hill while still moving closer to the ocean.
The hotel turned out to be 1 short block from the center of town. A down hill walk at that. Immediately at the bottom of the hill is the Port Antonio Courthouse (star of several movies and just this month, 6/96, granted landmark status) and the liveliest town market I know of. In the opposite direction from the hotel is a secluded beach at the bottom of a cliff. Above on the cliff is an old ruin of a mansion from whose deck one sees a wonderful panoramic view of the town of Port Antonio, the small port facilities, Navy Island (formerly owned by Errol Flyn and now a resort) and the blue caribbean.
Looking back on my long trip of the day before I realized several things. Some of the following I didn't see for several years. I realized how well the Jamaican people had taken care of me. The people at the MoBay airport really had done their best to get me on the first bus out. They knew that I had a long trip ahead. They also knew that if they told me that there were no tour busses from Ochee to Porty, I'd have wasted time looking for transport that didn't exist.
The tour bus driver had dropped me at the best bus stop. The Supa Bus completely unloaded at that stop and I was able to get a seat on an empty bus before it loaded up with the school children.
The bus conductor knew she was getting off before me and did ask the young boy to help me get to my hotel.
The hotel not having the room I requested is just Jamaican charm. They only have one or two rooms with private bath. In fact they only have 9 or 10 rooms in all. They offered me the room with bath the next day but I was so comfortable in the room I had (for US$25/night) that I decided not to take the better room (for US$50/night). This is the DeMontevin Lodge Hotel. It too was just this month, 6/96, granted landmark status. It's a beautiful old place. I don't think it's ever been remodelled but it is very well kept. The senior staff have all been there since I've been coming (1990). I immediately found (by experience) the staff to be accomodating, efficient and honest. The hotel is safe and secure.
I've been coming back again and again. I believe I've stayed at the DeMontevin at least a dozen times in the last 6 years. Where else can you enjoy the hospitality of a Landmark Hotel for $25/night?
The moral of this story is that Jamaica may take some getting used to if you travel on your own. This is true of any country or culture. Just give it a shot and have a little patience. It's also a good idea to spend the US$75 on the intra island plane service from MoBay to Port Antonio. But I wouldn't trade the memories of all that I experienced on that first trip for all the pineapples in Hawaii!!!
They can, however, help you remember what it was like when you were 17 and chasing the opposite sex where you worked. It can be a real show so enjoy it. You will not be able to change the culture of the Jamaican People during your 3 day stay. But if you sit back and relax you will find a real refreshment of spirit. Which is what you should be doing if you're only there for 3 days. Jeeeezzzz. If I only had 3 days in Jamaica now, most of the time I wouldn't do anything but sleep on the beach, sleep at the pool, sleep in the room at night and stop for a drink at the bar in between.
Actually, there's quite a push on right now to educate and train the Jamaican people to become more proficient in the tourism industries. On the one hand, I can see the necessity of that in order to raise the standard of living on the island. On the other hand, I often pray that Castro will be struck by a bolt of lightning, be knocked off his horse, and have the scales fall from his eyes. I pray that he may see the wisdom of turning the island of Cuba into Pady Bauler's floating crap game and casino hotel. That way all the tourists would go to Cuba and leave Jamaica alone.
The island of Jamaica and her people have many charms. One of the biggest for me is that they, for the most part, have a slower, more relaxed way of living. I'm sure it's only slow when compared with ours, and as with almost anywhere else, one finds it more in the rural areas. But that's one of the major draws of the Caribbean.
If you want spectacular scenery and first class accomodations, pay the $15,000 and take someone to Hawaii for 3 days. (You don't think you can spend $2500/person/day in Hawaii??) But if you want beautiful scenery, tropical breezes, fresh air, friendly people and relaxation for less than $100/day (less than $25 is still very possible) go to Jamaica.
I try to spend at least 2 weeks a year, just sunning myself, looking out to sea and dreaming about retiring to the South of France to paint naked young women. Paint paintings of naked young women, that is. (What? I'm suposed to paint naked young men?) I try to spend 1 week a year, touring around and finding things I haven't seen before. Usually, the activities of the three weeks aren't that rigidly compartmentalized. The point is, to do this, my vacations need to be inexpensive, unencumbered and mobile. That means pack lite. Most of the dining rooms at the resorts are informal. If you don't eat most of your meals poolside or oceanside, something's wrong.
There are formal dining rooms at most of the resorts which require slacks & tie for men but fortunately I've managed to avoid them all. If you must dress for dinner after a day at the links, by all means, have your valet pack your white shoes & trousers.
But if, from the bar, you have a rough night as you watch a summer breeze blow winter constelations across the sky. And you have to kick yourself to get out of bed by 8 so you can shower, breakfast and be asleep on the beach at 10. You might be happier if you pack lite.
Horsefeathers! I live in Chicago. I've lived here all my life. I've visited London, Toronto, Hamburg, Munich, Paris, New York, Seattle, St. Louis, Denver, Las Vegas, Venice, Rome, Vienna, Budapest, Atlantic City, LA, Houston, New Orleans, Kingston (yes, I'm white and I walk around Kingston on my own), Cancun, La Ceba, TJ and more. All of these places I've walked as a tourist, on my own. Jamaica is like any other place in the world. Jamaica is as safe as any other place in the world. Jamaica can be enjoyed as easily and with as much peace of mind as anywhere else in the world. You just have to use your brain. This doesn't mean that you have to constantly be on high alert all day. I wouldn't vacation that way either. What it does mean is that you have to follow some simple rules.
Contrary to what many people in developed countries think today, IF YOU INVITE ATTACK, YOU DESERVE TO GET ATTACKED. The attacker is wrong for attacking you. The attacker has no right to attack you. The attacker deserves whatever punishment he gets. But you deserve what you get for being stupid in inviting an attack just like you deserve to lose your money if you play Three Card Monte in New York. Stupidity deserves punnishment just as any other failing does. Just thank God we all don't always get what we deserve. Yes, you may have a legal and constitutional right to live safe but that depends on enforcement. Anywhere you go you must realize that if you turn the wrong corner, you MUST realize it and reverse direction before it is to late. In fact anywhere you go you ought to know where the wrong corners are and if you're not sure, you ought to peek around that corner before you go around it. As I said before, when I travel alone, with no one to watch my back, I don't rely on police, hospitals, tourist agencies, telephones, food, toilet paper, soap or even water. I rely on me, myself & I. I have walked the streets of Kingston by myself. But I'm damn careful about where and when. That's just as true for any of the other cities I mentioned above. Jamaica is no worse.
All that said, when it comes to the rural areas in the countryside of Jamaica, you are usually quite safe indeed. Rural people, especially in Jamaica, are much more dependant on each other than city people. Community is a very big part of their life. A strong community depends upon the strength of character of it's members. Honesty, courtesy and hospitality are very important.
One last tip I could give you if you've read this far. Many people complain that they don't like Jamaica because of all the hustlers. (Naturally these are the same people who, along with Gingrich, want to turn us into a nation of higglers. Small business create all the jobs, remember?) If you want to avoid higglers, don't stop to talk to them. Some of us are conditioned to help people. In the states, if someone politely says, "Excuse me sir/ma'am, may I talk to you", because of their courtesy we feel somewhat obligated stop and listen. In Jamaica, don't stop. If they are really in need they will catch up to you. If they're just higgling they'll just let you go by. If they don't, read tipping.
Interestingly, there is an honest version of this game that is played in Jamaica. It's played on the street by a dealer at the same kind of fold up table. He uses some dice (5 or 6 I think). You have to get 3 of a kind. Kings, queens, diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades I think it is. It looks easy. I've never seen anyone get cheated at this game but I'm sure I know why. Even though the game is honest, the odds of you winning are stacked so far in the dealer's favor, he doesn't need to cheat. I haven't figured it out, but off the top of my head, I'd say that the odds of winning are about 1 in 12. I guess because there's 6 dice, it looks like you have an even chance of getting 3 of a kind.
If you start to feel bothered by a higgler (local street merchant) or rasta that you just can't shake, don't be. Tell them you don't give away money. You trade money for value. Certainly they understand that. Then tell them that you are a tourist (duh!!??) and you will be happy to pay them for telling/showing you something you don't know about Jamaica. The one's who are not worth anything will leave you alone then. The ones who are worth something will be a font of information or perhaps the best tour guide you ever had. Naturally, you don't walk off with someone you don't know if you don't know where they are going, but if you use your brain, you can have a wonderful time and learn something.
It's OK to tip in US coins. But if you do, and someone comes up to you with a handful of US coins they wish to convert to Jamaican Dollars, do it for them. The banks (just like US & Canadian banks) will not change coins because they cost too much to ship back and forth. Naturally as a tourist, you don't change US$100 bills even for your best friend on the tour bus.