Negril Notes

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Negril – June 2011

I’m starting this post with a few photos. I’ll add the drama later….

I love this angle!

As close as you can get . . .

Sunset from The Castle - June 18, 2011

$From \"The Castle\'s\" yard - June 19, 2011$

From The Castle's yard - June 19, 2011

$Another stunner from \"The Castle\" - June 24, 2011$

Another stunner from The Castle - June 24, 2011

Lovely sunset from Kuyaba - June 23, 2011

Booked, Packed, … AAHHHHHHH!!!!!

I’m long since booked, I packed last weekend and filled in a few missing items last night, so all that’s left is the GOing!

A 5:40AM Flight puts me in Montego Bay before 9AM, and at The Castle well before noon. It’s like getting an extra day in paradise!

I look forward to seeing all my Negril friends and fellow travelers.

Soon Come!!

Peace,
Vinny

Book, Pack and Go Baby!! Woo Hoo!

I get so excited whenever I book a trip to sunny Negril! I’m not doing anything fancy, but I’m so relieved to be booked. Air Jamaica was expensive this time around. but what can you do?

I booked my favorite room at The Castle for the week and I can’t wait to see all my peeps!

Negril here I come! Woo Hoo!

Vinny

Metro Card Recycling – Original Artwork Purchases

My Friend Victoria is getting a lot of headaches from the MTA the past few days because she is using used MTA Metro Cards as canvas for mini paintings of New York City scenes.

I’m a big fan and I just had to grab a few of these mini masterpieces before they were all sold out.

This one caught my eye first.

Loved this one.

Victoria has a series of NYC Water Tower paintings that have always intrigued me.

Thank you Victoria, and good luck fighting “The Man”! We’re behind you all the way!

Vinny

Is this East Village artist a threat to the sanctity of the MTA’s intellectual property?

Is this East Village artist a threat to the sanctity of the MTA’s intellectual property?.

Published @ RealCityNY.com

I wrote a piece about my discovery of. and subsequent membership in, the Park Slope Food Coop here in sunny Brooklyn, NYC.

http://realcityny.com/

Negril May 2010 – The Kid’s B-Day Trip – 5

I woke up around 8AM, well that’s not really true, it was more like I stopped sleeping sometime around 8AM which for me is way late even on the foggiest of mornings. I’d slept so late that Kris was already showered and had gone down for coffee. I stumbled over to the fridge, groped for a bottle of water, and then over to my bag for a handful of Extra-Strength Excedrin. Even after the entire water bottle I was thirsty.

As if on cue Kristine bangs on the door, “Are you decent?” “Yeah sure,” I replied. “Good, I need some money, the Orange Juice Lady gave me this.” she said as she walked in holding an overproof rum bottle filled with Millie’s Orange Mango Juice, “It’s really friggin’ good.” she added between swigs. I have no idea what Millie actually charges, but I usually give her 500J and she seems happy with that.

It’s one of the joys of life at The Castle, I’ve mentioned before all the cool neighbors and neighboring restaurants, but it’s more than that. Millie seems to arrive at the perfect moment every time. I don’t think I ever had a “I wonder if Millie is gonna stop by today” thought that I can remember. She just appears when you can really use some fresh squeezed juice or just some fresh fruit. I’d chalk it up to coincidence, but it happens over and over again trip after trip. Let’s face it, she’s an OJ psychic.

It must have been a mixture of Millie’s juice, the cool shower and the Excedrin, but by the time I made my way out into the bright morning yard for the day’s first cuppa I felt totally revived and ready to conquer the day. Our little crew had commandeered about half of the big picnic table under a canopy of braided palm fronds that serves as the social center at The Castle.

This had been Meg and Jay’s fourth or fifth trip to Negril and the second that year. They had gone to The Grand Lido the previous January to attend “Rat Dog Daze,” several days of Deadhead fun in the sun with Bob Weir and friends. After someone has been to Negril several times, especially in a relatively short span of time, it seems that the decompression comes faster and the slide into Jamaica time happens much more quickly.

“We were thinking about Half-Moon Beach for today.” Meg offered. Half Moon Beach is about Meg’s favorite place in the world, and it seemed as good a day as any to venture up there. When The Kid came down to join us Meg filled her in on the wonderfulness that is Half Moon Beach and the collective decision was made. I added that a nice brunch at Selina’s would be the perfect preparatory detour landing us fat and happy on the little crescent beach spot right about noon. It was agreed and we went to our respective rooms to get our beach stuff.

Now I love Negril’s Seven Mile Beach, I have even gotten to know and love Bloody Bay Beach, but for a classic tropical beach experience in the general Negril area, for me it’s Half Moon Beach. About four years earlier I had been in Negril with a girlfriend who wanted to tan her boobies somewhere quiet and uncrowded. It happened to be Easter Sunday and we were having brunch at Selina’s, and it was Selina who suggested Half Moon Beach. That first trip was special. Being Easter Sunday there were several Jamaican families picnicking on the beach. The boob tanning idea went out the window, so she and I spent most of the day in the crystal clear water playing with the local kids. Later that year I was in Negril with Meg and Jay and shared with them my new find. On subsequent trips it’s a spot I rarely miss.

Selina’s is always great. I’ve been going there for years, and on Sundays brunch is tradition. I normally don’t do Big Roy’s Banana Pancakes but I was fearing the onslaught of a mighty hangover merely postponed by juice and analgesics, so I indulged. Jay had the same and I think both ladies ordered the American Breakfast. The food was great; fresh, hot and plentiful, and as always the Bloody Marys lived up to their “Best In Negril” reputation.

The Sunday Brunch Band had gone on break soon after our arrival and came back as we were finishing. Normally coffee and Bloody Marys lead to Red Stripes and an hour or so of lingering and mingling, but Half-Moon was waiting as was our driver. So we said our good-byes and headed north along the beach road.

The only time you ever see Half-Moon Beach crowded is during the twice-weekly Wild Thing anchorage, and I’m sure it gets busy during the season. This time there was a smattering of fellow travelers, and a few more arrived later in the afternoon, but twenty people does not a crowd make. We were lucky enough to take possession of the area near the big Seagrape tree at the water’s edge and proceeded in our revelry.

Sun, sand, ganja and Red Stripe, by mid-afternoon we had retreated to the bar for some snacky food, and another round of beers. Our driver was long gone, but a guy named Sonny had dropped off his fare and was lingering hoping not to deadhead it back to Negril so we cut a deal.

On the was back I talked everyone into a quick stop by Ossie’s Jerk Centre to sample the famous Jerk Pork. Unfortunately there were only two portions left, but really that was enough. We needed beer refills and the couple succulent chunks of porky yummy-ness did a nice job of holding us over till dinner.

Kristine negotiated a great deal for a Black River trip with Sonny our driver for Monday or Tuesday, so good a deal in fact that I expected not to see him again. He said he’s stop by in the morning to see what we wanted to do. Keeping plans loose was one of my goals for this trip, I didn’t want to feel as if we were working off a checklist all week.

Back at The Castle, we joined the rest of the big picnic table crew and became acquainted with Jim Zeppa and his friend and ex-daughter-in-law Nancy. Jimmy was a character to say the least, an older gentleman from Canada who’s spent his life in the music business. An old-school raconteur who held court every afternoon during our stay. He and Kristine hit it off. His name-dropping of talent large and small alternated as entertainment and background patter, but however received he just kept on going, all the while adding a sweet sentimentality to our week in paradise.

Vinny

Negril May 2010 – The Kid’s B-Day Trip – 4

There’s an ethereal quality to The Castle’s morning stillness. Whispering a subtle greeting, the day shifts gently into being. A familiar opening. I sat quietly watching as The West End stirred lazily. By 6AM the road was awake, and the distant whine of a fisherman’s outboard brought with it the faint smell of coffee wafting across the yard.

I walked to the ledge and saw no one. My eyes were no longer sharp enough to see if the urn light was green, so I made my way down the cool stone stairway, across the prickly tropical grass, and over to the coffee hut. Though in full percolating glory, the coffee wasn’t quite ready to go, so I padded back upstairs for my binoculars to spy on the fishermen who, by then, were dotting the horizon.

Well into my third cup I heard Kris stir back inside the room. By the time I went inside to ask if she wanted a coffee the stirring had stopped. A blessing and a curse, Kristine inherited the “sleep of the dead” from me. We can sleep though anything, I once fell asleep during a Van Halen concert. True story.

We had our breakfast at Teddy’s Hideaway, actually back in the restaurant, which was a lot nicer than last trip. Teddy’s has really found an audience in Negril. When Petrona and Susan first added a food at The Castle I thought, “Cool, this is so convenient.” and the first time I only had a few breakfasts. It was nice not needing to forage for every meal, but wow, the Lobster Thermidor is something special. On the previous trip with Mom and Dad our best meal was served by Teddy out in the yard at sunset. It was a great time.

Early afternoon brought Meg and Jay in from Montego Bay with Kenny. I’d known these two Deadheads for six or seven years by that time, and it was the first time they were meeting “The Kid.” I hadn’t realized how often I refer to my beloved daughter Kristine as “The Kid,” so much so that when I asked, “Do I really?” they all started laughing. Jay said, “Dude I knew you for like five years before Meg finally asked you her actual name.” It’s funny when a mirror is held up like that. I’d truly never gave it a second thought. When I returned from Jamaica I began asking friends about this and every one told me the same thing. Sorry Kid

The four of us walked over to Choices for pre-sunset dinner that night. Choices is always a good choice. A key feature to staying at The Castle is the number of excellent restaurants and bars within walking (or stumbling) distance. The food is always good at Choices, though for the life of me I can’t remember what I had.

Back at The Castle, we watched the final moments of sunset and relaxed in the yard with some fellow travelers. It was still fairly early though Kristine and Meg were showing signs of fatigue while Jay and I were raring to go. Saturday night is The One Love Reggae Show at The Seastar Inn! We were encouraged when I logged on to theRealNegril.com Webcast to find the party already swinging. I entered the chat room to say hi, and Rob offered to send the Seastar taxi to pick us up. How cool is that?

The girls encouraged us to go and have fun. They were both tired and decided to stay in and do their nails, or their hair, or whatever it is that girls do. We did make an attempt at changing their minds, but it soon proved to be without fruit.

The taxi they sent was huge and very well air conditioned. Within minutes Jay and I entered the brightly lit oasis that is Seastar. We sought out the Webcast Crew and made our introductions with the folks hanging in the general webcast area. It was great to see Rob & Lisa, but I was taken back when they asked, “Where’s The Kid?”

The Seastar Drummers were just taking the stage as we settled in. What a magical experience, I am always moved by the total way produce their music. I didn’t realize I was in a drum induced trance till someone yelled, “Vinny!” I may have been that I was a bit drunken too. Jay had started an unhealthy shot roller-coaster. He bought a huge round of shots for the group, so it became my responsibility to handle the next round, then another guy felt similarly obligated, and so on. I’m not sure how far it went. I have a convenient rule about the number of shots I will do in one night, I don’t count them.

I have a fuzzy recollection of leaving, and then piling out of a smaller taxi into yet another bar, or was it two other bars? I missed sunrise Sunday Morning.

Vinny

Negril May 2010 – The Kid’s B-Day Trip – 3

From my dimly lit table next to a steamy radiator, I sit quietly as Brooklyn braces for the forth snow of the season. You’d think we were in Bulgaria with shortages of everything. I don’t get it, the bodega on the corner is always open, and I’m sure the Chinese place mid-block will be serving lunch tomorrow. I don’t panic. I guess I’m easy.

SO, where were we? Yes, we were heading out of Montego Bay with Kenny on the road to Negril.

Our airport beer supply lasted only till around Hopewell where we stopped to grab refills. I sat back relaxing as Kenny gave Kristine the Grand Tour. It really never gets old, this was my lucky thirteenth trip to Negril, and I wanted Kris to relax and enjoy without feeling as if we were on a schedule. This was her first time here in five years and she had a few things she wanted to do too. So when Kenny started asking about day trips and the like I deflected. I wanted to maybe do a Black River trip, but wasn’t ready to commit. We had friends coming, and who knows who might be staying at The Castle, that so often changes everything. I did book Kenny for the return airport trip.

We hit a lot of traffic moving thru Lucea, but a slight detour stopped us in front of Lucea’s famous clock. It seems so out of place and its probably apocryphal history just adds to the wonder. Like my Mom, Kristine loved seeing all the kids in their neat school uniforms making their way to and from school.

We picked up speed as we ran the stretch south from Lucea to Green Island, so much so the first “Welcome to Negril” sign seemed to sneak up on us. Seeing that sign always elicits a cheer and a toast though its actually closer to Orange Bay. Kenny explained that the early signs are for the All-Inclusive crowd to think they are actually in Negril when in reality the most of the big AIs are in Hanover Parish. Westmoreland Parish where the town of Negril actually is starts maybe three-quarters of a mile south of Sandals.

Kristine’s nose was pressed against the glass as we ran along the strip. Passing Selina’s, she asked about the kids, then over to Kuyaba, where she stayed on her last trip saying, “Let’s have dinner at Kuyaba tonight,” as she searched for familiarities in the faces that went by.

A chip off the ‘ol block, she spent most of her week, five years ago to the day, bopping around the Kuyaba neighborhood mingling with the Jamaicans. Through our many conversations prior to her trip she felt right at home soon after arriving, much to the concern of her boyfriend who seemed to feel the need to “protect” her. That didn’t last too long.

We pulled up to the Blue Cave Castle and the gates opened as if by magic and we rolled onto the property. “Holy Shit! This is sooooo cool!” Kristine emoted as she climbed out of the van spinning around in an attempt to take it all in. I took care of Kenny, we thanked him and said we’ll see him tomorrow when he dropped off Megan and Jay.

Through the archway and into the main part of The Castle, there were a few people in the covered patio area, and a others milling around. We said our hello’s and went up to the second floor to Deluxe 3. When her roommate bailed we decided to share a room. At first I didn’t love the room. I’d been in the room before, not to stay, to party and only for a few minutes. What threw me was the lack of the big window opening to the patio I’m used to in “Deluxe 1″ and “Deluxe 4,” but as we unpacked taking dibs on the various dressers and the like, Kristine opened the back door onto the patio and my entire view of the room changed.

“Deluxe 3″ is this very large room but then its opened to this huge patio area, part of it shared with the lower tower room and part of it private. Over our week there I fell in love with the room, it was cool and breezy, private and wide open. The patio became the centerpiece, and over the next seven days three different groups of people would inhabit the adjacent room slightly changing the the patio flavor with each shift.

After a castle tour, it was time to head over to L&M Grocery to stock the fridge. When we left The Castle the street was quiet, but by the time we crossed and got to the No Limit Bar a few familiar faces popped up. Always staying at the same place adds the dimension of getting to know people in the neighborhood. Of course faces come and go, but there is a core that remains trip to trip. The jerk chicken guy who is always grilling at the foot of the Willow Gate with the red bandanna was there and I introduced him to Kris as the neighborhood’s foremost chicken jerker. He is also a good man to know for a few other things. We ended up having a beer at No Limit Bar, we needed a beer, it’s what, thirty yards from The Castle gate to L&M. A thirsty 30.

We eventually made it to L&M and the lady at the counter perked up when I came in with my daughter. Eight months prior I’d taken my Mom into L&M who asked a lot of questions about the different products you can’t get in The States but that she’d seen in Ireland. I don’t know her name, but she knows me and gives me a good deal when changing those first US Dollars. We loaded up on Red Stripe, some Guinness, mangoes, water, bananas, vodka, Ting, various fruit juices, and spice bun. All life’s essentials.

We turned the fridge on high and loaded it up. Kris was puzzled to see me stuff even the fruit into the fridge until I told her about the tiny but voracious Jamaica ants. “It’s like National Geographic in here.” Please don’t take this to mean I’m saying The Castle is buggy, on the contrary the place is spotless, but as Jeff Goldblum said in Jurassic Park, “Life finds a way.”

Don’t get me off on a rant about morons from Crooked Musket, Kentucky who on their first trip out of Sisters Pretty County, whine on TripAdvisor about the lack of Five Star accommodations for $75 bucks a night in Negril. “Ya know Earl, when Tallulah and Clevis got hitched, well after Pa done brought the scatter-gun to bear, they paid $75 bucks at the E-Cono Lodge in PokeCuzin and they ain’t never complained about no dang lizards!”

These days any idiot can put their opinions on the internet

Anyway, we ate an early dinner in the yard by Chef Teddy just before sunset, and The Kid didn’t last much longer than that. I sat up a while that first night staring up into the clear night sky counting my blessings. Kristine had gotten through film school, and had moved to Brooklyn only blocks away. It was the first time since her Mom and I split coming up on twenty years ago that we were in the same zip code. We were spending more time together than we had since she was in middle school. I’d been in Brooklyn for almost three years, had a sane roommate, and found a wonderful spiritual community at the Zen Center of New York City, and though my writing career hadn’t taken off yet, work hadn’t sucked so bad in the previous few months. All in all, Life was good. Praise Jah.

Vinny

Negril May 2010 – The Kid’s B-Day Trip – 2

Kristine was probably having seconds thoughts as the Negril breeze drew closer, and my Negril mania heightened. “Bug spray, you need really good bug spay!” “We need to be on the road by 4AM, I’ll get the taxi to pick me up first and we will come by your place. Don’t oversleep.”

Finally the morning came and I arrived at Kristine’s place at about 4:05AM. I was relieved to see the lights burning in her second floor apartment, and a wave through the gloaming as she heard her phone ring. In minutes we were whizzing down the Belt Parkway making JFK Terminal C in about half an hour. Checked in and drinking coffee at the gate a few minutes after 5AM, we were finally on our way.

True to form Kristine was getting to know all the people sitting near us on the plane. We managed to cheat a little realizing our seats were A and C, so when B came we just moved to two unoccupied seats behind us. I was half-expecting a hassle from the flight attendant, but this was Air Jamaica. No problem.

The flight into Kingston was uneventful, the Kid slept most of the way. My browbeating not to oversleep was handled as only one in their early twenties can. She stayed up. I relaxed and read my book. I tried to watch the “Irie Vibes” or whatever they call the in flight programming, but that didn’t last too long. I may be a ball of anxiety pre-trip, but once on the way all that stress really slips away.

My expectation of flying into Kingston was that all the Port of Entry passport crap would happen there during the layover, so once in Montego Bay just grab the bags, hop into Kenny’s Taxi, Red Stripe, spliff, and the road to Negril. But as often happens with expectations, they were dashed as we sat starving in the terminal area where the only open food outlet was Burger King.

Now I’ve spent a dozen vacations in Negril without having it my way, but we were tired and got, well, I don’t remember what we got. I do remember it hitting the spot, and about fifteen minutes before we boarded our Mobay flight Kristine wheedled a few cocktails out of the lady setting up the terminal bar. It was after all, a little past 9AM, and it was Kristine’s Birthday.

The flight to Montego Bay was breathtaking on several levels. The vast Jamaican mountains with their smoky blues and exuberant greens brought on oohs and ahhs from we on the starboard side, while the crisp Caribbean Sea captivated those on port. Punctuating the splendor, the morning sunshine heating the moist mountain air formed dramatic updrafts which offered us a staccato rhythm that bounced that huge Airbus A-320 all the way to Mobay much like the rocky Jamaican roads would do in decades past.

Upon safe arrival in Mobay (there was applause), we walked briskly to immigration and cruised right through. The same thing with customs. Nice. Right outside the door a some kid had a sign saying “Vinny” and when we walked over he handed me a cellphone. It was Kenny! “I’m stuck in a little traffic my brother, run a tab the beers are on me!” Even nicer. It was definitely time for an icy cold Red Stripe, so we made out way to the bar and ordered up four beers. Four? Yeah, we knew the first two would be empty by the time the transaction was completed. Judge as you might.

I love to people watch at the airport bar in Mobay. The hustlers sizing up their prey, people from Iowa attempting to sort through some local drama, I just take it all in. Kristine is beginning to decompress too. I just smile as she takes a long pull from the brown squat bottle. There is something magical about how those first beads of outdoor Jamaican sweat are quenched by that first Red Stripe on the back of your throat. It sneaks up on me every time.

An older guy offers us a ride but we decline. We buy him a beer, and he tells us about the depressed business climate on the North Shore. “Hey man, all the cool kids go to Negril.” I say as Kenny’s bounds into the area, “VINNNNNYYYYY!!!” I introduce him to Kris, and at once we are in his warm embrace both literally and figuratively.

We learn that Megan and Jason had booked Kenny for their ride in the following afternoon. I love to drum up business for Kenny, he has never screwed me. Ever! He’s on time, he gives a fair price, he tells a good story and, most of all, my Mom really likes him.

Kris and I feel a second wind come on as we cruise though Montego Bay proper, and on along the coast. The party had just begun!

Vinny

Negril May 2010 – The Kid’s B-Day Trip

Normally I post lots of photos with my stories in order to break the monotony of the telling, This next series of posts will be mostly sans photo since my daughter Kristine has forced me into a no pic post pledge.

This last Negril trip was one I’d been hoping to do for years. Taking the Kid to The Castle. She is always so busy getting her adult life off the ground, but on Christmas 2009 I suggested a birthday trip the following May. She was in.

The original plan was for her to bring her roommate along, I’d pay for the room and Kristine’s airfare, and all her roomy would have to handle was her flight. I spoke to Petrona at The Blue Cave Castle and tentatively booked two rooms that shared a patio. The lower tower for me and Deluxe 3 for Kris and her friend.

So many times I’d traveled to Negril alone. Everyone thought I was weird, but you’re never really alone in Negril unless you want to be. My family being amazing, loving and always willing to look past my weirdnesses, encouraged my frequent trips, and finally in 2007 I talked Dad into spending a few days in sunny Negril. I am proud to say that Dad “got it,” and through his story-telling the family maybe “got it” a little too.

For several months upon returning, Dad’s affirmative response to any question was “Ya Mon,” yeah, the apple doesn’t fall to far from the tree. But all those Ya Mon’s must have made an impression because when Dad and I began discussing a return trip in we were able to talk Mom into coming too.

I’d been to Negril many times. I’ve gone solo five times, with friends or girlfriends five times, twice with my parents, and now finally a trip with Kristine. This would be her second Negril trip. I’d sent her and a boyfriend (grrr) back in ’05 for her nineteenth birthday. Some people were a bit scandalized at the time, but I knew Negril was a friendly safe place as long as your not an asshole.

When there is a Negril trip in the offing I check airfares almost daily, I read airfare and airline related news, and I keep an eye on the Negril.com Message Board all to predict the airfare climate on or about my planned trip date. I love to get an amazing deal on airfare, though lately it hasn’t been so easy.

This trip I wanted to book in early March, but couldn’t get a solid commitment from the Kid’s roommate, so I held off. It was killing me. It was a great rate, like $289 R/T from JFK (Yeah, I know! Killing me!). A few weeks later the Kid told me her roommate had lost her job and couldn’t do the trip. I feigned disappointment and booked the next day at a decent rate of $315 each. I was glad to have Kris all to myself for the week. It would be the longest time we had ever spent together since she was a very little kid (insert ominous minor-key organ chord here).

Around this time, my friends Megan and Jay said they were planning a get away too. It all happened pretty fast, but after a few emails plans were aligned. Book, Pack and GO! The stage was set!

Vinny

State Of Emergency

Lucky 13

Wow, this will be my thirteenth trip to Negril, and it still seems brand new to me. Always a different mix of people and situations, always something new. This time I’m going with my lovely and talented daughter Kristine, and my friends Jason and Megan will be staying right across the yard from us.

Wheels up at 6AM tomorrow from JFK, a short layover in Kingston Jamaica before heading over to Montego Bay. At first I was bummed about the layover and the non-direct flight, but since we will deal with immigration while we’re waiting in Kingston, we will be able to bolt to Negril as soon as we land in MoBay.

A few tweaks to my packing list and then I’m going to try to get a few hours sleep…

Vinny

1 Comment May 13, 2010

May 2010 Packing List – Attempt at minimalism . . .

I haven’t posted a packing list for my last several Negril trips. I didn’t think it was a big deal until a fellow Negrilophile accosted me last September, so here goes. I’m attempting minimalism for this trip. There are so many little things I never touch once in Negril, it’s just a waste to haul them two thousand miles.

May 2010 Packing List

Clothing

Toiletries

Health & First Aid

Mind & Body

Travel Supplies and Documentation

Other Stuff

Wow, to see it all listed out one wouldn’t think that I lopped of at least a dozen items. Did I miss anything?

2 Comments April 18, 2010

Elvis & The Buddha

In the fall of 2008 on becoming a formal Zen student I took part in a small private ceremony where over tea and light conversation my teacher, Daido Roshi, presented each of us with our grey student robes, and our oryoki bowls. Items linking us in the long line of Zen practitioners back to the time of The Buddha.

It is customary for the student to offer a small gift of appreciation to the teacher at this time, but what do you give to the man who has everything? It had to be something personal, something with history, something with a story.

Starting in the 90′s I began spending my vacations is a little town on the western tip of Jamaica. I often stay in the same small hotel, and I have become friendly with the families, restaurateurs, and shopkeepers in the little neighborhood close to the hotel. In these years I also began to explore eastern philosophy and to practice various forms of meditation. Mornings in Negril became synonymous with deep introspection peppered with ganja and robust coffee while gazing into the void of the great Caribbean Sea.

Several months after beginning to study with Daido Roshi I found myself back in Negril, this time with my Dad. On the first day, my friend Elvis called me over to his stand just outside the hotel’s gate. The first thing he asked was, “How are the brothers doing?” as if they were old friends who’d emigrated to the States a few years earlier. Actually “The Brothers” were a pair of crescent moons carved from planks of pimento wood with beautiful expressive Jamaican faces he’d made for me as a birthday gift for my daughter. Elvis is a gifted artist with the ability to get right to the heart of the matter.

He held up a block of wood, ironwood he told me, and as he held it he began to ask in a mystical sort of way, “What can I show you in this block? What do you see?” Along with being a wonderful carver Elvis was no slouch as a salesman, but I was in a hurry to get back to my Dad so I blurted out, “Have you ever carved a Buddha?” This got him. He looked at me puzzling images through his mind until a light went on, “The fat one, wit ‘im big belly?” “Not exactly,” I replied and began to speak of the type of Buddha I was referring to. He listened with rapt attention and finally replied, “I’ll look on the internet and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

The next evening Dad and I returned from a day of sightseeing and I stopped by to see Elvis who showed me a catalog of some kind containing several Buddha images. As we looked at them he said, ” ‘im like Rasta men in the mountain praying on Jah Rastafari.” He turned the rough-hewn block in his work worn hands, placed the it on the workbench, and crouching down he began to describe the finished sculpture which he could clearly see. I didn’t interfere, he got it, he got it in a way that filled the whole room. I thanked him, and said I’d see him in a few days.

Dad had left for the states, but I still had a few more days in town, and I hadn’t seen Elvis in a week. The next morning I went out to forage the fruit stand for breakfast when I saw Elvis’ smiling face waving me over. The statue was wrapped in some kind of oiled cloth and Elvis was rubbing it furiously as if to whet my appetite. When he unveiled it, I was blown away. The statue was so much cooler than I could have ever imagined. Imagination tethered to experience simply limits possibilities, but in this statue Elvis’ world met mine. I paid the first price he mentioned without a haggle.

I knew that one day I’d donate this treasure to Zen Mountain Monastery, and when the subject of a gift on becoming a student came up, I knew exactly what to do. I was so happy to let go of this unique piece of art that held such strong meaning for me, but with Daidoshi’s illness seeming to be taking hold at the time I went through this process, I never had an opportunity to share what this item actually was.

My next trip to Jamaica was in the Spring of ’08 and I hoped Elvis and I could collaborate on another unique carving, but several months earlier he’d stepped on a nail and was having serious health issues. Routine health care isn’t routine in a country as poor as Jamaica. Later that year I became a formal Zen student and I gave the Rastaman Buddha to my teacher.

I didn’t return to Jamaica again till September ’09 where I found Elvis’ carving stand abandoned. I asked around and was heartbroken to hear that my friend had passed away in the same month I offered his work as a gift. He’d lost his foot to the nail, and weakened by tetanus he succumbed to “flu”, probably pneumonia, a month or so later.

I spent a little time sitting in the dilapidated old stand sharing beers with Elvis’ brother who was working to sell off what carvings he could. Sadly in their weathered state they were not appealing to the passing tourists who would never have the honor to know the sweet man I knew as “Elvis The Carver.”

Vinny

4 Comments January 16, 2010

Mom and Dad in Negril 9-09

Hello to all my fellow Negrilaholics! I apologize for not getting to this sooner, but I need a month or so to digest my trips before spilling my guts here. So here we go…

I planned this trip back around last Christmas. Sitting before my laptop and Google Calendar blocking out the major events of the year. At first it was a spring trip, but finally it had to be pushed to September. I like hurricane season in Negril, maybe I secretly want to be stranded for an extra week some day. OK, so that’s not a secret to anyone, except maybe my boss.

It was July 4th weekend 2009. I was eating my outdoor grilled bratwurst at my parents place in Jersey when the subject of my next Negril trip came up. “I have the second week of September penciled in, you guys should come…” I offered spontaneously. They’re retired, financially stable, so what the hell? Of course it was my Dad who responded about a nano-second after the words were out of my mouth, “OK.”

Mom & Dad in Negril

Now my Mom was a tougher nut to crack. She hemmed and hawed as she rolled their Fall 2009 social calendar around in her head, “We can’t go to Jamaica so soon, maybe next spring.” But it only took a few minutes of me and Dad’s cajoling before she was in. The last piece of the puzzle was seeing if my daughter Kris could make it.

Things moved pretty quickly from there. I went online to find Air Jamaica was running a $289.00 round trip special from JFK to MoBay if we purchased the tickets right away, so we jumped on it. Booked three tickets that weekend, and then sent an email to Petrona and Susan at The Blue Cave Castle to book two rooms. We got one of the fancy rooms “Superior Ten” for Mom & Dad, and my favorite room “Deluxe One” for me, and if Kris was able to break off a week to come along she could room with her old man.

Almost immediately Dad was back to “Ya Mon” as the affirmative answer to almost any question, and Mom was excited too, and was soon very concerned with what to pack. My answer of, “Just bring a bunch of t-shirts” wasn’t too helpful.

There was a lot of joking about the sagacity of flying on 9/11 amongst our family, not to mention some stern warnings from my sisters, “You better bring them back in one piece!” The sisters are planning the big 50th anniversary shindig next spring, so I had to promise not to let Mom do any cliff-diving.

About a week out I emailed Petrona at The Castle to confirm and to let her know about when we would arrive which I estimated at “just before sunset,” to which Petrona replied, “Fuzzy and I will hold the sunset until you get here.” I just loved the visual that put in my head.

Getting to JFK for me is a pretty easy run. I can do a taxi, bus, train or subway, but Mom and Dad had to get there from Jersey. Luckily my brother offered to take them, but since traffic is so unpredictable they left really early. With the “Luck of the Irish”, of course they hit zero traffic and we checked in, through security, and at the gate by 9AM for a 12:45 flight. I left early for me, and met up with them at the gate around 10:30.

Time flew by and although it was a bit rainy we took off on time, hit no delays, and had a nice uneventful flight. We arrived at Sangster a little early, about 3:15 Jamaica time, and sailed through immigration, baggage and customs in record time. We were just outside the sliding doors into the driver’s area after successfully side-stepping the deal makers and Red Cap guys, to see a guy holding up a sign with Vinny on it.

The driver looked familiar, but it wasn’t Kenny who I’d contracted for the drive into Negril. He introduced himself as Rocky and apologized that he wasn’t Kenny, which I thought was funny. Hey Man, we can’t all be Kenny.” He explained he works with Kenny who was double-booked that day. We didn’t really care, his van was in good condition and the AC was working, though I must admit to missing the ice cold Red Stripes Kenny would have had ready to go, a situation we remedied at the first beer shack we ran across on the other side of Montego Bay. There’s just something wonderful about that first Red Stripe.

I told Rocky we were hoping to get to Negril before sunset, and I thought it shouldn’t be a problem, but we hit a whole lot of Friday afternoon traffic. Making the turn just past Lucea we were able to fly down the western coast all the way into Negril. Mom was so impressed with all of the school children in their uniforms. I was intrigued how Mom, who grew up in Ireland, felt at home almost immediately. She kept relating names, places and word usages to the old sod. For me it was really cool, I’d been worried if she’d like Jamaica, thinking she’d get used to it in a few days, but she seemed to get it immediately.

Soon we were among the myriad “Welcome to Negril” signs, rolling past the all-inclusive joints, through town and up into the cliffs. I love the feeling when those big white gates open and we pull through to see Santa’s big smile and warm smile. “Greeting mi friend!” he says as I introduce him to Mom, he remembered Dad.

We settled in our rooms for a while. I think this is my fourth time staying in “Deluxe One,” it was like seeing an old friend, though the furniture had been moved around some.

The sun was getting low, but we still had about half an hour till sunset so I went to get the Parents and to give Mom a tour of The Castle property, and then we went across the street to L&M Grocery to stock our respective refrigerators. The neighborhood was coming to life as we walked back, but the various sellers and deal makers kept their distance out of what I would like to think was respect for two older tourists making their way back to The Castle.

Sunset was nice, The Castle’s view is as good or better than anywhere else in Negril, and it was fun to watch Mom and Dad take it all in. Mom kept saying how she understood why I keep coming back.

More to come…

Vinny

1 Comment November 15, 2009

A letter to the editor . . .

I wanted to share this note from Joe & Laura:

Hi Vinny!

I can’t tell you how much I have, and am currently, enjoying reading your Negril exploits! Too funny, way insightful and very informative. Thanks for all the vivid descriptions of a lot of the places I’ve been reading about for the last year in anticipation of our trip to Negril.

I’m writing to tell you that my wife and I are flying into MoBay on November 20th for a 10 day trip to Negril for our 3rd wedding anniversary. It is the first time in Jamaica for both of us, and after reading most of your articles I am thrilled that we picked Negril for the whole trip. We have a car rented through EFAY car rental that we will pick up at the airport and then we will hit the “Road to Negril.” We are staying at the Charela Inn the entire time. Do you know anything about the Charela Inn and did we make a good choice? We will have a Junior Sea View Suite on the second floor.

The only thing we really have planned is our anniversary dinner on 11/24 at Rockhouse and a Wild Thing Cruise/Snorkel/Horse ride trip. We definitely plan on eating at Selina’s, 3 Dives, Kuyaba and Best in the West. We also want to eat at Xtabi and check out the snorkeling from their cliffs.

If we have time we hope to drive to the Black River and check out Rasta George.

I’ve got your packing list printed out and will take your advice on the Wet One’s! Any other advice about where to get some good local flavor would be greatly appreciated, but we can’t wait to have a Red Stripe in our hand, and our toes in the sand. You’re not going to be there from 11/20 -11/30 are you?

Thanks again for the great reading. We both hope to become one with Negril and its people.

“A phattie the size of a baby’s arm” OMG, LOL! When I read this I immediately fell off my chair and rolled around laughing with tears streaming down my face. Nice work!

Cheers,
Joe & Laura

Wow! Thanks Joe & Laura,

It never ceases to amaze me that people are helped by my ramblings.

First off, Negril is a great choice! People are always asking me, “Why do you go there?” Soon you will know the answer. You also picked a great time to go, I’ve done the late fall trip. The place is getting ready for the high season so things look great and the businesses are up ready to go.

Charela is very nice, I have friends who’ve been spending two weeks there each summer for more than twenty years. I’ve gone for dinner and drinks, and you can’t beat the location right in the center of all the beach action. I like taking a private water trip with Famous Vincent, or one of the many glass-bottomed boat guys up and down the beach, but The Wild Thing is also a great time. As you may have gleaned, I stay at The Blue Cave Castle and every afternoon the Wild Thing takes a slow cruise right by, when, on occasion, I’ve been known to moon them.

Please remember, you don’t have to go totally native on your first trip to have the time of your life! If you get one thing from this note, please get that. My first two trips were to an all-inclusive, but luckily a buddy told me to get out and see a little of the real thing which I did. On both of those trips I spent a fortune for all the things you go to an all-inclusive for and I totally loved both Hedonism and Sandals. I often give first timers the same advise I received. Go AI but get a little taste of The Real Negril!

For me, it wasn’t till my third reach when I needed a cheap trip that I totally immersed myself. I paid $25 a night at The Yoga Centre, foraged for food at small local places, drank in little hole in the wall bars, and really fell in love with Negril.

All your choices sound great. I suggest a stop into the The Blue Cave Castle up in the cliffs for one of Teddy’s sunset meals. He is an inspired chef and there is simply no better view, period. Also, don’t miss Rick’s Cafe! Some of my friends consider it too touristy, and even though I agree to some extent, its sheer awesomeness overshadows the commercialism.

The only thing I’d warn you about is the car rental. Getting around is very cheap and easy via route taxi’s and tour bus. I like to use Kenny 876-384-1371, and most of the better restaurants will send a car for free. I’ve heard many a story where the stress of dealing with a car in a third world country had buzz-killing results. Hey, maybe you guys are seasoned world travelers so this is a moot point. As for me, I’m usually too wasted to even chance a bike ride

Happy Anniversary! Have a great time! And please let me know how it turned out.

Peace and gassho,

Your Pal Vinny