Trek to Alligator Pond.

Wi nevva even catch cole!😭

That's the fate of fisherfolk. Sometimes the fish are running and sometimes they keep their mouths shut.

About a week ago, we went out from our usual spot in Duncans, Trelawny, but not even the fisherman who took us got a bite.

So,  having been told that Alligator Pond in Manchester had better fishing grounds, we drove over three hours for the big catch.

Shanti who took us out

We stopped at Sunny Isle Cay. Last year's hurricane wrecked sections of it.

This is by Sunny Isle Cay off the coast of Alligator Pond. 

The only thing we caught all morning was sea weed.😭

Three times I thought I got a bite and it was sea grass. Not even the fisherman got a nibble.

That area would be great for manatee (sea cow) but we ate them into virtual extinction on the south coast.

Anyway it was a good trek as we got an Airbnb and lymed at Little Ochi the night before.

Our Airbnb 

Port Kaiser and Lovers Leap in the distance.

Hanging out at the Airb&b.

Lots of fishing boats around

David, Bernie, Joan, Kai, Father Topping

Mitzie and David 

Mr and Mrs Evans who organized the trek. They gave us lots of fried lobster and curried crab😋

David and his dad

Yup we came home empty handed, but next year we gonna catch those critters .

 I can't believe it's tomorrow that I have to leave😭. 

How time flies when u having fun.

Kingston isn't Jamaica !

 As a country girl growing up, I often not only heard the term"Kingston is Jamaica" but also saw it in action and was always incensed.  

We had to become accustomed to being left behind, for that is how most of our governments operated. 

In short, we were 'back a bush' so had to be satisfied with 'what lef' or nothing!😡

So, we never even saw street lights or asphalt roads  much less sidewalks, until we went to the great city.

Seeing the immediate reaction by many to the devastation left by Beryl, just reminded me how we country folk used to feel being left out of the picture.

To be clear, I am no longer a Jamaican country person or even a Jamaican resident anymore. But it really hurt when for days I got news from home that hurricane Beryl had only been a little breeze blow which had only done minimum damage.

Ok, admittedly, many of those who referred to it as a little 'breeze blow' had survived Gilbert and it's aftermath which had caused them to be without electricity for weeks on end and had  known many roofless friends and neighbors.

 So they having expected a very bad experience  based on Beryl being  prophesied to be worse and it sure wasn't in their neighborhoods, can be excused. 

But not the media which downplayed the island wide damage or couldn't wait till they had the facts.

 So they carried stories of comfort, based on the situation in most of Kingston.

Yup. In their minds, Kingston is still Jamaica apparently!

It was only about two days after Beryl had totally wrecked sections of Clarendon, Manchester and St. Elizabeth, that the rest of the country and indeed world, started to recognize that there was more to Jamaica than Kingston!

I eventually learned that the devastation in my parish, St. Elizabeth, had really been severe, with a vast number of persons left totally homeless or severely exposed to the elements.

The destruction in these country areas are not only parochial problems though as it is these three parishes that mainly supply a significant amount of not only the fruits, foods and vegetables to the entire country of Jamaica, but poultry and fish as well.

Let's hope when it comes to rehabilitation and helping people to get their lives back on stream, the Kingston is Jamaica philosophy will not prevail. As everyone is a taxpayer (even if it's only GCT)  and should not be treated as lesser beings, simply by virtue of not having been born 'under di clack' 😡.

And this means in terms of having essentials like light and water restored!

We also all need to be vigilant to ensure that the billions to be spent to repair infrastructure is properly accounted for and quality work done, for remember this is just the first hurricane of what is predicted to be an active season.

Garvey Museum at last?

Am I dreaming or are we finally going to get a Garvey Museum at his birthplace in St. Ann?

My reason for hope is coming from an article I read in the Gleaner of 22^nd December 2022, entitled “Sisters receive houses to make way for Garvey’s museum”.

According to the report, “Sisters Jacinth and Carla Johnson were overcome with emotion when they received the keys to their new houses in Seville Heights, St Ann, from Prime Minister Andrew Holness, just in time for Christmas.”

These sisters had occupied the house in which Garvey was born, for years. 

It was a squabble about relocating them which had been given as the excuse by succesive governments for years, as the  reason why the museum could not be built there. 

Many years ago, I had visited the location in the middle of St. Ann, where Garvey was born and the sign demarking te property is extremely visible at the bottom of the steps of this humble home.

For years after that, I kept asking on Facebook what happened to the promised Museum (last post May 2020!) but could get no progress report. Then I was informed that the project was delayed because of financial wrangling with the current residents.

Well apparently, this has been now rectified which paves the way for the construction of the museum to honor of our first national hero.

While in Jamaica, there are normally years if not decades between when announcements are made and action taken, I hope this will not be the case in giving Garvey the honor he deserves by making his boyhood home a museum where we can all go and be reminded of his struggles and gifts to the world. 

For as the prime minister said at the handing over ceremony, “….Marcus Garvey’s philosophy, work and fight for equality helped pave the way for the liberation of an entire race worldwide, and in that regard his legacy deserved to be monumentalized.

He emphasized; “In any other country, a figure like Marcus Garvey, whose work, philosophy and leadership contributed significantly to the liberation of an entire race of people, his boyhood home would be a Mecca, a place where people from all over the world, particularly people of African descent, would come to see where it is that he drank water, mixed with the people, had the culture infused, and the life experiences from which he was able to generate with great eloquence and clarity of thought.”

My problem is though that we Jamaicans do not have much of a tradition of embracing the important symbols of our heroes.

Bogle's monument at Stony Gut is rundown and virtually abandoned

Take for example, the monument to National Hero Paul Bogle, in St. Thomas. 

Bogle was a leader of the 1865 Morant Bay protesters, who marched for justice and fair treatment for all the people in Jamaica. After leading the Morant Bay rebellion,  he was captured, tried and convicted by the colonial government (who had declared martial law), and hanged on 24 October 1865 in the Morant Bay court house.

But you would never know it if you visited his monument in Stony Gut or anywhere in St. Thomas. Joan, my views: Reggae Falls and Barren Monuments (joan-myviews.blogspot.com)

Even the home of the late, National Hero Norman which was extensively and expensively refurbished, remains a virtually empty and rarely visited monument in Manchester.

Yes, we pay lip service to our heroes and even spend money making memorials, but what publicity is given regularly to encourage our citizens to visit these places and appreciate our history?

None in my book. 

Not even the age-old custom of introducing kids to these historically significant sites by organizing school trips, seems to be done anymore.😡

Let’s hope that if and when the museum in St. Ann’s Bay is constructed, it will not be similarly ignored, for you could hardly ask for a more central location than this could you?

 

Climate change is real

The 2021 Global Conference on Health & Climate Change held in late October to early November 2021 in Glasgow, Scotland may seem to be just another talk shop to some people, but to us in Jamaica, it is a deathly serious matter.

Pity two major polluters, China and Russia refused to attend.

Hellshire beach, before

The fact is though, that while it is the rich countries that are the major polluters and destroyers of our planet, it is small poor states and especially islands, that are already bearing the brunt.

Look at the poor island of Madagascar. Already a huge section of that island has been suffering from a chronic drought for the past four years, resulting in over a million people facing a devastating famine.

We will certainly be hearing similar heart-breaking stories from other places in the near future as storms, floods, droughts  and other natural disasters increase in intensity.

Right now in our own vulnerable island of Jamaica, beach erosion caused by global warming which causes sea levels to rise, has already started to destroy the source of income for hundreds of fishermen and other small entrepreneurs.

This came home to me starkly last year when a group of us went over to Hellshire Beach, a popular  seafood mecca near Kingston.

There hundreds of small entrepeneurs have made a good living for years, feeding those who have journeyed from Kingston and other areas to swim and enjoy their delicious fare.

No beach left at Hellshire

It had also been a regular hangout for my cycling club. We would ride over to the beach, swim, eat breakfast and have a wonderful time, then return to Kington. However, through the rising waters, the beautiful beach has virtually gone, putting hundreds of people out of business, as who wants to go there to eat the delicious seafood that they prepare, if you can’t swim anymore?

Where will we swim?

Other areas of Jamaica are already seeing the creeping disaster too. Among them is another very popular seafood food and fishing area at Alligator Pond in Manchester. 

St. Elizabeth is not being spared either, for residents of Calabash Bay are growing increasingly anxious as their beach slowly disappears.

Yes, many look at the issue of Climate Change and conferences in Europe as being remote and not of interest to us. But they are, for, on the ground the effects of global warming are being felt at the local level.

It is therefore heartening that our Prime Minister Andrew Holness, the extremely articulate Prime Minister Mia Motley of Barbados and other leading Caribbean leaders, made their way to that conference to put our story on to the front burner before it is too late.

The rich countries have promised to curb their destructive habits and make funding available to mitigate the problem. We can be cynical and say we have heard that before or we can become persistent  lobbyists to ensure that they do.

Because for us the dangers are imminent and real.

https://youtu.be/Lqu9pMsvagg

Riding and All That

Yesterday the ambitious F&T crew took on the challenge to do a 71 mile ride from  Mineral Heights in Clarendon to Chris Dalrimple's place just outside of Priory, St. Ann. Not being one of the ambitious ones, I decided to ride until I felt like quitting then taking off to enjoy the day at Chris' beach.

So off I went on an uneventful ride with Charles and Chuck from Mineral  Heights to Jucci in  Clarendon Park and after a short stop, Alrick and I rode off to take on Melrose Hill in Manchester.

Alrick humored me by staying with me until he sighted the first of the A team coming and took off like a light.

 I thought I was doing quite well until my derailler started to give problems as I ascended the hill , causing my chain to fall off and become entangled in the back spoke. Gary (Shawn's driver ) was close by and stopped to help me. He got the chain back on, but by then, I had lost the impetus to ride so jumped into the support vehicle that he was driving.

As we started to ascend the notorious Shooters Hill in Manchester (which I find has suddenly been rechristened Penn Hill,) we saw Bernadette who wanted some supplies from the van. As the hill did not look too daunting, I took our my bicycle and decided  to give it a try. I guess I rode about 1/8 of the hill before I decided that life was too short for such a struggle and after trying unsuccessfully to get the support
vehicle to pull me up hill by holding on to the stem of the side mirror, decided to still get some exercise by pushing the bike uphill instead. (Holding on to the stem of the side mirror as the vehicle drove, felt like my arm would be pulled out of the socket! I had seen Shawn do it earlier but I guess he has an expertise that I don't!)  That too did not last too long so I returned to my favourite past time, driving  in the support vehicle and listening to good music and watching the others struggle in the sun.

I was really proud of Shawn for this was his first ride with us and he did quite well though. He  actually completed the entire 71 miles and told me he had a wonderful time. Incidentally, there is no doubt in my mind that Johann is by far the strongest and best  F&T rider.

By the time  got to the top of that infamous hill, I decided it was time to go to the beach  and thankfully Nicky allowed her vehicle which was being driven buy Ulette to be commandeered.

Chris'back yard.  ()A Samira Bowden photo.)

We were pleasantly surprised to see that the road from Spaldings to Cave valley in St. Ann was beautifully paved, really great surface and I regretted for a while that I did not have my bicycle to fly off the hill in that section..

We got to Chris' by 12.30pm . (we  had actually left Kingston at 5.30am although the scheduled departure time had been 4.30am.) Anyway as I got there the beach was very inviting and I saw "Ask Dr. Mary" swimming and joined her. It was then she revealed that she had been the first female to ride from Kingston to Negril. I knew she was an outdoor lover but would never have known she had that particular distinction.

Stewie, Pat and crew soon arrived and as usual Stewie had his  stash of vodka so we started out having a breathless afternoon. After the mannish water and curried goat I was hit by a severe case of niggeritis and had a wonderful sleep.

 I think the last masochist aka rider,( Aytollah) rode into Chris' place about 5pm. Most of the riders did not even seem to have the time to enjoy the wonderful beach but as they say, different strokes for different folks. 

 I drove back to Kingston with Charles 1st and needless to say, slept most of the way.. ....even now, I have no  clue where my bicycle , bicycle rack or helmet is.

What the heck, I know it is safe somewhere and I did indeed have an absolutely wonderful day with the crew, including Chris, who unfortunately returns to England in 3 weeks. Will really miss her as she had been  my Beverly Hills Saturday riding partner for quite a long while/.


Ps. Gary knows where Noisy River is. I thought it was in Manchester but it is in Trelawny near Troy. Hoping to go there soon,

No Alligators There!

It was really a great day....for everyone but Dr. Kim, I guess. For as she descended the hill to Alligator Pond, a wasp attacked her knee and in her haste to get rid of him before he had done too much damage, she catapulted over her handlebar and damaged her left wrist badly as she tried to break the fall. 

Dr. Kim with wrist in sling

When I got there she was writhing with pain, but the would be doctors in the Fun and Thrills group soon eased her pain with cold water, Reiki (compliments of Stewart) and Excedrin . The greatest moment of it all however was when Chuck arrived with two large Poinciana pods and about 20 feet of rope to make a splint  for her aching wrist. Oh for a camera at moments such as this!

Kim was not the only one who had a spill however for as I descended the hill , I saw Orrell (aka GM) coming out of the bushes at the side of the road and thought to my self that he had found a flush toilet! How wrong I was, for when I stopped to assist and commiserate with Kim, he rode up and admitted that he was emerging from the bushes because he had picked up a skid and landed there.  Luckily, nothing but his pride was damaged however.

Maurice too had his bout of bad luck for as he started to ride from way back at Jucci patties, his bicycle gave out so he spent most of the trip driving. Poor Maurice, for he is the one who does not want to only go on long rides but he would ride to hell and back if possible!

As I said earlier however, it was really a great day...a wonderful ride, the last long ride of the year, and it was orgainised by Thomas, Omar and Theresa. What was absolutely amazing from the very beginning is that we drove out only 5 minutes later than the designated time, to ride to Clarendon Park from where the A team would ride.

Being a permanent B teamer myself, I started riding from Williamsfield, Manchester, thus avoiding the miserableness of Melrose hill. As I took off up the Royal flats hill, I was quickly overtaken by Rose and Charles the first, who I did not see again until they made a wrong turn and had to double back and we rode together after that. It was amusing that they had taken a wrong turn so early, for organiser Thomas had drummed it into us before we started riding,  that we should keep left at the Y junctions and they went right at the very first one and nearly ended up in Mandeville.

The route from Williamsfield was really great, gently undulating all the way.

Then we got to  an intersection where if you went right you would have to climb this huge hill leading up to Northern Caribbean university. That hill was so intimidating that I could not wait to remind my fellow riders that Thomas had insisted that we keep left at all Y junctions. By then we had been joined  by the Ayatollah, Fatman and Sheriff  and heard that Chuck and Bernadette had kept right and ridden up the hill. They were phoned and  the Ayatollah browbeat them, for I suspect, the same reason as I, into returning to join us.

 I was even more convinced  and adamant that we had taken the correct turn, for I had spent many of my youthful days in Knockpatrick where I had an aunt and I have no recollection of that big hill. Actually, I had never returned there since 1967, about a week before I got married, for my dear aunt Gwen was dying from cancer and I will never forget her screams as the pain wracked her body. Yesterday I could not even find where her house had been, for the place had changed so much. More importantly,  I had no recollection of that huge hill leading up to Northern Caribbean University, which had been West Indies Training College and which my cousin Betty had attended.

Anyway, back to the ride. At first, Chuck fiercely resisted our interpretation of the route, because he said if that is where Ayatollah had gone, it was the wrong direction as the Ayatollah has an unenviable reputation of leading us astray. So the Sheriff called Thomas and he confirmed that we should indeed have turned left so we laughed the detractors to scorn.

After a short rest, we rode off and the first local person we saw on the road, we queried if we were heading to Newport. "No" he told us, "You have to go up the hill. " In disbelief we sought a second opinion from a man hanging out clothes in his backyard. He too confirmed that we were heading to May Day which would not take us to Newport. Despondently and after much argument we turned back to take on the horrible hill. I saw a support vehicle coming and immediately waved it down and asked a man walking on the road to throw my bicycle into the back of the pickup.

I was not the only one who shied away from the hill for we saw Chuck ahead holding on the back of a support vehicle ! True, he had ridden up before but for all I know, he had held on to something the first time for he has that penchant, as displayed many years ago when we first took on a ride to Newcastle!

When Thomas caught up with us and we challenged him for giving us wrong directions, however  he laughingly retorted "Good". True I guess, for what would a ride with Fun and Thrills be if some of us did not go off on the wrong track?

"Photographer" Omar poses in front of a windmill

Thomas then compounded his mischievousness by telling us that once we got to Newport, it was downhill all the way. It certainly was not for we kept climbing until we got to the PCJ operated Wignton wind farm which has an elevation of 2,126 feet.

Going downhill from there would have been absolutely wonderful had I ridden my mountain bike which has shock absorbers in front,  for the road was quite bumpy.

However the breathtaking scenery minimized the torture on my hands. The mountainous terrain below, the blue  sea and the Lover Leap cliff from above, were was absolutely breathtaking.

Lovers Leap cliff in the background

The Alligator Pond  river is not one of our best rivers however but I couldn't wait to jump in to cool off.
Once I had cooled off  however I had no inclination to return and since the sea there has a reputation of having a dangerous current, I avoided it, although some of the  more daring ones went in.                                                                                                                                                                      The area itself is not particularly attractive for the collection of hurriedly put up food shacks are just that, shacks.

Breakfast/(lunch) was  delivered shortly before one and this was when Richard nominated the food at Dressekie, St. Mary, at the ride in November arranged by arranged by Alric, the best food of all rides for 2012. I had missed that ride as I was at Silver Sands at a party, but as far as I am concerned, when I am starving as I was yesterday (despite Michelle smuggling me a cup of her delicious soup)  every food is the food of the year!

Regardless, I was too hungry to care and after spending some time enjoying the great camaraderie that comes with Fun and Thrills rides. When  the time came to leave, I displaced Howie from his own vehicle and slept almost all the way home.

Can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday.

Ps. Incidentally  there are no alligators at Alligator Pond or any where else in Jamaica. 

Photographs, compliments of Omar. (I hope!)

Chacka Chacka Mandeville

I hate bureaucracy. In fact, if  I had the power, I would  install large billboards all over Jamaica, saying "Bureaucracy is hazardous to your health". For if you take bureaucrats seriously, you must end up with high blood pressure!

Check this. On Sunday I was in Mandeville, capital city of the parish of  Manchester and as it was lunch time, I decided to stick to the evil I know and head to Jucci Beef for lunch. Thank god they did not serve lunch at that branch for as I was leaving I went to the rest room. Biggest mistake of my life for outside of a pit toilet,  have never smelt anything so foul and the floor was covered with water.

On Monday I decided to call the public health authorities in Mandeville for them to send an inspector there. Guess what they told me? They could not take a report over the phone as I must come in person to make the report!!!

.

Now understand this, it is the job of public health authorities to ensure that all public places are hygienic and I imagine, even more so, those serving food. Now they are always complaining about shortage of staff, so shouldn't they be happy to get information that could assist them to target particular places since they cant cover all?

Oh no, such thinking is just too logical for bureaucrats I guess,  so if I do not wish to travel some 60 miles to make a report, this restaurant will most likely continue to operate in an insanitary manner. As I related this to a friend she laughed and said  I was lucky they did not tell me that in addition to coming in personally, I would have to fill in  six copies of  the complaint forms!

Oh poor Jamaica. If this country does not sink under the burden of unnecessary bureaucracies, we will be lucky.

On another  note, I had not been into that  town for probably 15 years, but my memory of  it was that it was a clean and ascetically pleasing place . Not any more for  it seems over the years it has been developing in a most chacka chacka manner and everything looks run down and disjointed.

I am no fan of the parish council system which I consider redundant, but every time I express that concern, I am told that  "Town Planning' is their major function. Well if what is happening to Mandeville and has happened to St. Andrew, Montego Bay,  Port Antonio, Ocho Rios and Port Maria,  are examples of effective town planning, dawg nyam wi suppa.

Kidnapped!

Now I know what it feels like to be kidnapped and imprisoned! Well maybe that's a bit dramatic since my experience was nothing like that poor Colombian senator who was kidnapped and held by rebels for some seven years during which period she had a child (no doubt the result of rape) for one of the rebels.

So by comparison, my experience was by no means as frightening but it was a form of kidnapping and imprisonment anyway.

It started so simply, for after having a bout of fever and shivers on Friday 25th May and taking the  usual home remedies and having the fever go away, to my  surprise after a great day of riding to Lovers leap in St. Elizabeth from Spur Tree Hill in Manchester on Sunday, when I returned the fever suddenly reoccurred accompanied by chills.

View from Lovers Leap

By Monday morning the stubborn fever was still around, so I went to my doctor at Medical Associates Hospital  to get some antibiotics. Problem was, my doctor was sick so they sent me to his colleague Charmaine Webb who I had  known many years ago. When she heard about the fever going and coming, for some reason she looked up symptoms for malaria and asked me if I had been to any countries where they have the disease.

I mentioned that I had been in south America but had been back for over three weeks but that seems to have set off a panic as according to them Brazil has a serious malaria epidemic.That's when it was referred to a Dr. Kildere Donaldson who is supposed to be an expert in contagious diseases and he insisted that I had to be admitted for observation and the matter reported to the public health authorities for malaria had been eradicated from Jamaica and they were paranoid that it not return to the shores. I had to be admitted immediately they said so the necessary tests could be done.

 Never having encountered a situation like this, I called to get legal advice but was told that my contact had no knowledge of public health law. So I called a friend had been the medical officer of health for St. Ann. His sober advice was that I go into hospital for observation and testing for  if I didn't, the public health authorities could send the police for me and take me into the public hospital  to be quarantined and tested.

 Well that was enough to get me to go back and be admitted to Medical Associates where they put me in a private room, under a mosquito net and all! However, the  net was open at the top so if any mosquitoes were around, they could have flown in and out in wild abandon, so happily, since I am terribly claustrophobic, I quickly abandoned it!!!

For two days, I was put through every possible test and I think they took away at  least half of my blood and would you believe I never even had a temperature or chills for the entire time I was there . 

Anyway, the hospital is not bad at all. The food good and all the staff nice but there is no place like home. So since I had absolutely no more symptoms, I was allowed to go home although the test results from the government lab were not yet not returned. (I hear those bureaucrats down there can take up to 2 weeks to send back the results!)

What a relief all around. No more confinement and no more topless mosquito nets.

One thing I know though, the next time I go south, I will be taking every single vaccine available, from yellow fever to dengue, for I will never be confined again.

Hiking to the Blue Mountains

(This is the 2nd in the series entitled "Enjoying the Simple Life" being published in Caribbean Today.)

You know a number of persons overseas like to talk about Jamaica being a one season country…….perpetual summer all year round, they say. However, I am here to tell you that we also have some very serious winters. I am not about to say this is islandwide but I remember having to turn on the heater in my car in Saldings, Manchester one night. As to the Blue Mountains, since we started gathering data on the temperature in the 40’s, the records show that twice there was frost present there.

Frost or not, it can get extremely cold up there. I remember once hiking to the peak to watch the sun rise and nearly freezing to death in the rush! We had set off from Whitfield Hall at midnight and reached the 7,400 foot peak at around 4am. Well, I am here to tell you that during the approximately two hour wait till sunrise, the blood literally froze up in my fingers... in fact, I can’t remember feeling any movement in them until we had descended to Portland Gap a couple hours later.

Despite that experience, hiking to the peak is an enjoyable adventure. Our normal routine is to drive up to Whitfield Hall, spend the night and start the approximately four hour trek at about 5 am, just before daybreak.

It is not at all as exhausting as some people seem to think, that is, once you are not totally out of shape. However, according to the records kept by the Blue and John Crow Mountain park rangers, only a few hundred Jamaicans make that pleasant, invigorating trip each year. I am told that among the avid hikers is a Jamaican octogenarian who hiked up to the peak for her eighty first birthday!

The path is well defined, although I suggest that first timers should get a guide. And naturally, it gets easier each time you go. I can recall, the first time I did the trip, some thirty odd years ago, I had to hold on to the tail of the mule that we had hired to carry our gear, to ascend some sections. That was when I was young and unfit! Now the only section I find challenging is Jacob’s ladder and in fact I find it worse coming down than going up as it has a lot of loose gravel and one can slide easily and sprain ankles etc.

Regardless of the challenges, hiking up to the Blue Mountains gives one the opportunity to really enjoy unique Jamaican flora and birds that you never see elsewhere. The path is covered with a variety of lilies and ferns of all colours and shapes. The tree fern which is extinct in most places in the world, is profuse and raspberries and blueberries are all along the path. Then there is there marvel of the Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee being grown on the most precarious slopes. I never stop wondering how people actually keep their foothold on the treacherous slopes on the side of the mountain to plant, tend and reap this world renowned gourmet beverage. But thankfully, they do without getting hurt.

The Blue Mountain range spans St. Andrew, St, Thomas and Portland and the view from every angle during the trek up or down, is just awesome. There is a special lookout just above Portland Gap where you can view the entire north eastern section of Jamaica and the deep, lush forest that makes up the John Crow Mountains. Looking at the vast expanse of hills and mountains covered in every colour of green, reconfirms every time that Jamaica is by far one of the most beautiful spots in the world and after each trip, it seems the beauty has increased. At Portland Gap too, there are facilities that can be rented to hikers who want to overnight or spend the weekends in the coolest, crispest and most invigorating part of Jamaica for just a few dollars.

Yup, hiking to the great blue is definitely one way to enjoy the simple life, but for me the trip can only be taken in the summer!

JOAN WILLIAMS IS A LICENSED REAL ESTATE DEALER BASED IN JAMAICA AND THE AUTHOR OF 'THE ORIGINAL DANCEHALL DICTIONARY AND TOUR JAMAICA.