Jamaican Till I Die!

As a child growing up, I spent most of my holidays from school running around Port Antonio, regardless of how long each holiday was. My Dear Aunt would pick us up from school on the last day or if we were lucky on the second to last day of school and off we go, Portie or bust, come rain or shine, hell or high water nothing could stop us. I used to suffer from the worst car sickness, it was just horrible and the winding country roads made the journey even worst. I tried many different tactics to ease my suffering, from turning my head before the car starts going around the corner, to looking up, down or close my eyes but nothing worked, eventually I grew out of it. I remember on one trip the car had that green peppers smell because we had pizza and being nauseous at the time meant that whenever I smell Green peppers I got nauseous for the next couple months. Even when I was not in a car but no matter what, nothing could stop me from heading to my Portie. One of the good things abo...

I’d never been on a bamboo raft.  Never knew they existed. So I sat and gazed at the couple reclining on the bamboo raft as it skimmed the water.  It was coming on twilight and the sun tinged pinky orange the bleach white villas behind them.  The air was cool underneath the overhanging branches.  I could hear their leaves rustling and the ripples as they formed on the water’s surface.  Grasshoppers and crickets began rehearsing the first tentative chords of their nightly orchestra.  I could see the eddy currents forming off the raftsman’s oar as he piloted the raft forward.  I could even hear the mumblings of the conversation being had by the couple. They didn’t mind my voyeurism.  Didn’t even know I was there.   Only the raftsman knew.  He was looking directly at me. How romantic! I thought.   I knew this image was taken in Jamaica, but where in Jamaica?  In the pre internet age of my early teenage y...