My Week Away, Part One

Barbara: Deb and I decided that this week, I’d go ahead and give you a little howdy-do from warm Jamaica today and Friday, and Deb would post something on Wednesday. As I’m busy doing nothing, Deb has kindly stepped in to field any comments you leave so we can keep our cozy conversation going this week.

Sorry the photo is of so-so quality. The one thing I did forget to pack is the cord that lets you download the photos from the camera. At least you can get a little idea. 

Room with a view

So, now, here is the official post de Monday:

We arrived last night just as the sun was setting—pink streaks threaded the sky and the light was so warm and soft, it saturated the colours on every colourful thing. The foliage is wild and lush and the landscape is rubinesque, full of rolling hills that plunge down to the sea. The hills are dense with bamboo, mangrove, almond, coconut, cherry—apparently every tree in Jamaica bears edible fruit.

We’re on the north side of the island, so the sun drops behind the hills turning day into dusk at about 5:30. By 6:15, it’s pitch black. And oh, when it’s black, the night sky comes alive with the stars.

We tour the property and it’s heaven. The only hitch is that our room is set up in the hills, far away from the water. All of our usual frugality goes out the window as we decide to upgrade to an ocean view. Right now it’s just paper money. Or play money.

In fact, every action feels like it doesn’t have any of the usual repercussions. Like drinking alcohol. My husband and I are normally light-weight drinkers—I mean, maybe a couple of glasses a wine A WEEK. Phil is always happy to be the DD. Club soda is his drink of choice at the local bar. And food? We eat reasonably, both in quality and in quantity. But put us in a bathing suit and stick us in a resort and suddenly it’s coco-limes and rum and cokes and brandy snifters, as well as those couple of glasses of wine A NIGHT, all to wash down the nachos and jerk and chips and dainties. First drink of the first full day? 11:30am. (…it was a coco-lime, okay) … (one part fresh lime juice, 2 parts coconut rum … mmmmm)

And let’s not forget the sun. Oh, how we worshipped it today. And who can blame us when we just left behind its Canadian face: in November it is just a distant memory of a life-giving star. It is vapid and cold, hardly worthy of its name. And on months when we get its hot self, I hide under sunscreen and hats and sunglasses. But here the sun is a tonic and a slave. Salvation. Healer. It’s easy to forget that it can turn on you on a dime and burn you to a crisp. But we languished today, just so you know. We languished in its warm embrace and succumbed to our Jamaican haze.

I thought of all of you, I swear I did. And I sent you some vicarious warmth and sand and relaxation. I kissed the sun for you.

What is your favourite way to “get away from it”?