It has affected us all!

We Jamaicans are scattered throughout the world. Two things remain true about us though.

 Firstly, no matter how far away from home we migrate to, most of of hang on for dear life to our Jamaican roots. 

Secondly, many of us either received a devastating blow from the most vicious hurricane to crash into the Caribbean, destroying much of the south west section of our beautiful island home, or have friends/family who were.

 That was hurricane Melissa which struck on October 28 2025. (https://joan-myviews.blogspot.com/2025/11/i-weep-for-black-rivervictims.html?m=1)

In our family, those who received the worst blow were my 91 year old cousin Nellie a retired teacher, and her 92 year old husband.

Third from right, 91 year old Nellie, beside her is 92 year old husband EV, and beside him my cousin Dor, who keeps the family fire burning on the island👍.


When our African ancestors were freed from slavery in 1834, most had no education.

For you see, the devout Christians who had enslaved them for centuries after kidnapping and bringing them across the Atlantic, had deliberately kept them in ignorance.

Fortunately, there was a handful of Christians who did not subscribe to the religious dogma, that Africans were not human.

Among them was a religious sect called Moravian.

Recognizing that the newly freed slaves needed to be educated, in 1861 they established a teacher training College for women, named Bethlehem, in Malvern, the rural district in which I was born.

Although my great grandmother had no formal training, she had become a teacher.
However her daughter, my grandma, who got the opportunity for higher education,  attended Bethlehem teacher training College as did many other female members of my father's family.

 In fact, I recall with some embarrassment how when I was horrified that my daughter wanted to become a teacher after I had spent so much money sending her to college, she reminded me that the family has a tradition of teaching and it had nothing to do with money!🫢🫣.

As usual, she was right.

I even traveled to nearby Cuba some years later, to meet many cousins who were born there, as a grand aunt had migrated to that neighboring island to teach English.

So yes, Nellie proudly carried on the family tradition for decades before retiring to Brighton near the St. Elizabeth /Westmorland border. This district is some 35 miles from Black River, the epicenter of that miserable hurricane.

At age 91, she and her 92 year old husband

spent many terrifying hours in the night of October 28, trying to stay safe and dry, as the hurricane peeled the roof of their home piece by piece.

Fortunately they were eventually rescued by kind neighbors. 

This is what is left of their home today.😭.

It took Dor (who lives in the city and fortunately was unaffected by the monster), weeks to locate them, and even now, three weeks later, the area still has no electricity or Internet and only spotty cel service. 

I guess many will say they escaped with their lives so they should be grateful.

But how do you really rise and rebuild again after 90?

Many Jamaicans are in similar situation, but when you have your youth, it's a natural advantage, psychically and psychologically.

A section of Bethlehem Moravian College.

Update 31st December 2025.

Although it appeared incredulous that my 90 plus year old relatives would be building new accommodation, they sure are!!

Hope they will feel much safer here. 🙏

Municipal Councils negligence

 So, it appears that the government is finally giving consideration to holding legally due parish council elections in Jamaica.

Should we celebrate?

Absolutely not.

 For decades, some of us have been pointing to the total ineffectiveness and waste of money that the Parish Councils as presently structured represent. However, the latest response from the government has been to add insult to injury by announcing a whopping increase in salaries of the underperforming councilors.  For as of 1^st April (all fools day,) next year, the virtually useless councilors will earn a whopping  $5.7 annually each.

By making the ridiculous raise effective on all fools day, the government is telling taxpayers what fools they are, I guess!

Total disrespect, for that sure is a large chunk of money for people who give very little value for money and whose duties are nebulous, to say the least.

But does the Jamaican taxpayer care?

Nah.

According to the Local Government Webpage, among the responsibilities of the Municipal Councils (fancy name for parish councils) are; “developing, managing and maintaining infrastructure and public facilities such as parochial roads, water supplies, drains and gullies, parks, recreational centres, markets, abattoirs, pounds, (my emphasis) cemeteries, transportation centres, public sanitary conveniences and public beaches.”

I wonder which Council provides any of the services listed above even in part! From the level of complaints one hears about their operations, I hazard a guess that none do.

Did you notice that in the list above, pounds are included. For your information, the Pound Act specifically calls for every parish to have one in operation.

 But not even one Parish council has a working pound, I am informed.

This despite the fact that in August 2023 alone, six persons (including a policeman) were killed in vehicular accidents involving stray animals on the roads. These were in Westmorland, St. Elizabeth and St. Mary.

And in publishing those statistics, I note that the National Road Safety Council does not bother to mention persons who are injured, although in my book, its often these people who suffer the most.

In many instances a large number of people injured in road accidents are left disabled, unable to work, unable to sue anyone responsible for their plight and left to live the rest of their lives in pain, destitution and misery. But that’s another topic for another day.

In August, after the death of the policeman, the topic of the negligence of the parish council briefly surfaced, but was quickly forgotten. For you see, in Jamaica, unless politicians, celebrities, the rich or other influential people are killed or harmed, no action is ever taken, just a bagga mout.

This voice in the wilderness only returned to the topic today on seeing a recent story about an accident that occurred in Williamsfield on the brand new highway which was opened with great flourish just a week or two ago.

This is the leg of highway 2000 which runs from   Williamsfield to May Pen. In this case, the victim is calling for the highway to be closed until it is fenced, to keep animals at bay.

But what about the delinquency of Parish Councils, in not establishing pounds all around the island, as they are required to?

And don’t the owners of these animals where identified, accountable?

Who is enforcing the laws against them?

I see that almost two billion has been allotted from the third supplementary estimate to finance the oft-postponed parish council elections. Yea, sure, the laws call for parish council election to be held every four years, but successive governments always ignore this requirement anyway. But when will they be required to start giving the beleaguered taxpayers value for money?

Almost Six million-dollar salaries for unproductive individual councilors and billions for the operations of parish council. 

What on earth are they delivering?

 

Useless Parish Councils

There are many institutions in the Jamaican governmental structure which are nothing but a colossal waste of money.

None more so than local government though.

I can't recall the number of times, while moderating my talk show program, when after hearing bitter complaints about lack of service, I would query the caller about the name of their parish Councilor, only to be met with the perennial "I don’t know."

I dare say that was the reply more than 95% of the time!

This is because Councilors know that they do not have to perform, as their election normally only depends on the popularity of their party.

In fact, the job of parish councilor requires so little effort or accountability, that most holders of the job do so on an ad hoc basis while working full time elsewhere or operating a business that benefits from getting contacts with their Parish Council!

It’s the runnings.

This problem of underperformance at Parish Councils is not new though. for I recall more than four decades ago, a huge study was done on Local government and its relevance.

The conclusion was that as our population is so small, we would be better served having three County Councils with specific functions rather than the 13 parish councils which were doing virtually nothing.

I thought those findings and the recommendations for reform were spot on, but because the two political parties love having a slew of activists at the local level being paid for by the hapless taxpayer, the reforms were never implemented.

Almost a half century later and what do we get?

Insult to injury, whereby these mainly useless politicians have had their salaries increased to FIVE MILLION DOLLARS PER YEAR. (Remind me what we are paying teachers, nurses, police please😡).

Worse one does not even have to be able to read properly to hold this post, as demonstrated in the viral video of JLP Councilor Steve Graham attempting to read a document at an Old Harbor School graduation; https://youtu.be/LMVMSbLRHh8?si=GQQnZmnaz_339f5N.

It was downright painful to watch.

I have only returned to the topic of the uselessness local government on hearing the report that the Westmorland Parish council is going to establish a pound to take stray off the roads.

So what, they never knew that they had a duty to do so until three motorists were killed in accidents with stray cows in Little London and several other persons critically injured, in a two-week period?

This declaration by the useless Westmorland Parish Council, sent me to research an article published in August 2015 entitled; “Police want parish councils to establish animal pounds.”

It begun; DSP Francis, speaking at the latest RJR Group News Forum, on Friday,  explained that, when animals are recovered from thieves, or found without owners, there are no facilities to safely keep the animals until they are claimed.

He wants the parish councils to take the lead in this regard, given the fact that "the Pound Act clearly speaks to the Parish Council in every parish having responsibility to effectively operate a pound within that jurisdiction." (My emphasis). 
He further stated; “the parish councils have failed to assume that responsibility.”

This he said in 2015 and that was not to prevent death on the roads but to deal with stealing.  

 This is only one area of their responsibilities where parish councils are not performing but this is more lethal than most, as stray animals on our roads is almost normal now.

 Pity we do not live in a county where individual councilors can be sued for dereliction when they fail to do their duties and cause death or Injury.

 Multi million-dollar salary increases for councilors indeed.😡

 

 

 

 

Home at last😊

 As I flew over Zambia, it was as if I had reached my beautiful home, Jamaica.

The place is absolutely sunny, green and lush and I actually got to see the wonderful Victoria falls from the air. 

It was even more amazing than I had ever thought for as far back as I can remember, I had always wanted to visit that place described as one of the wonders of the world. 

It’s in Livingstone, which is really flat as it’s in a valley. 

I didn’t get a pic from the air, but the pic in my mind is forever etched. 😊

Airlinks lunch boxes are so attractive 

We had left the hiccup in Johannesburg behind and had arrived via Airlink that lovely little South African airline which calls itself ‘domestic’ but it is clearly regional, as Zambia is definitely not part of South Africa!

I think the different feeling I got immediately about Zambia was because of the climate. 

Cape Town is absolutely beautiful but it tends to be bleakly. As I landed in Zambia a warmth embraced as  it must have been in the 80’s. 

Yup, my type of climate. 

Oh how I love my friend Wendy.❤️

She is a Jamaican who has made Zambia her home for the past 7 years but knows the entire region like the back of her hand. 

Without her, we would never have this wonderful adventure as she has directed us every step of the way, (except on how to get left at an airport).

Look at the Airbnb she recommended for us!

I can’t wait to get to Lusaka to see her and meet her family for I really haven’t seen her for about 20 years.

And Ian and Sue who own the lovely Airbnb have been super helpful,  from the past few weeks, long before we got here. 

Ian took us into Livingstone where we got some stuff, tried some local food and walked home.

Interestingly, on our walk home, we saw a lady and her school-age son, walking and eating these grape looking things.

 They offered us some and the young man even went and picked some more. We were warned that if they touch the outside of your mouth it itches.

 It did.

Coincidence was, she works right at the crocodile farm right beside our home.

Small world.

 I feel so at home here that ever since I arrived, the words to the signature song made by the late, great Peter Tosh aka stepping razor, have been swirling in my head.

Don't care where you come from
As long as you're a black man, you're an African
No mind your nationality
You have got the identity of an African. 

'Cause if you come from Clarendon (you are an African)
And if you come from Portland (you are an African)
And if you come from Westmoreland, you're an African

So don't care where you come from
As long as you're a black man, you're an African
No mind your nationality
You have got the identity of an African. 

Amén

I now know the difference between 3 g, 4 g and 5 g. 

With 3 g you can do almost nothing on the internet. With 4g It takes forever to upload pics so g although this blog is written on 24th March, I really don’t know when I can publish it 😡. 

They say you don’t miss something until you lose it. Well I really miss 5 .

Enforcement and corruption

 I don't mind if you consider me a prophetess of doom, but for decades I have been warning that corruption is going to be the death of our beautiful little country. And we seem to be right on the way, with the totally unnecessary spike in covid 19.

What do you think is mainly the cause of us not enforcing the myriad of laws that we have on the books to protect the society?

While it is quick and  easy and in many instances correct, to point fingers at the legendary and oft highlighted corruption in the police force, they are by no stretch of the imagination the only problem. 

For many politicians and bureaucrats at both local and central government level are just as corrupt. But none of them could succeed if,  we the people were not so selfish, have this deep love for shortcuts and so steeped in the entrenched practice of dropping money.

This national acceptance  of corruption is so visible and in your face as you enter our cities and towns, many of which are eye sores. Why? Mostly because those being paid to enforce our laws have no interest in doing their jobs but simply use their positions to enrich themselves.

In fact, I am here to tell you that the Town and Country Planning Act, only serves the interest of the enforcers.

This is a situation I know well, having resided in an area where the blatant disregard for this law has led to widespread commercialization which has not only destroyed the aesthetics but also the roads as well. For increased commercial activity causes a massive increase in  traffic, thus destroying the roads which are not maintained.

Bedford Park Avenue in St. Andrew North East,  is nothing but a series of potholes, due to traffic caused by commercialization.

The blatant infringement of this particular law in our community, has over the decades, been brought to the attention of just about every enforcer, be it, political representative, every town planner at the KSAC, every councilor and every mayor, to no avail. But as the first and main creator of that commercialization told the residents many decades ago, "mi have money suh nobady caan move mi". He has indeed been right, and his presence, growth and development has only caused others with the same mentality, to move in, pay who they must and live happily ever after while the community deteriorates.

Oh yes,  in my beleaguered country, most citizens, know exactly who to pay to look the other way so the laws cannot be enforced. And if you think the ever growing, dangerous and troubling problem of squatting on gully banks will every go away, think again for while it may not be a matter of making money, it is in the interest of politicians to have the regulations ignored so more garrison enclaves can be established.

Corruption here is so widespread and clearly acceptable, that even supposedly 'upstanding' citizens  think nothing of dropping money to get vehicles passed. This is something that often takes just about an hour to complete, for its a process which I have been doing at 'Swallowfied' for decades. But to some people who have no problem gossiping or participating in other time wasting and trifling activity, it is too much as, dem nuh hab time fi waste! So, they happily pay thousands of dollars to someone to get the documents stamped, without the vehicle ever being inspected.

This latest troubling spike in the spike in Covid 19, which now has now reached an alarming 18,527 cases, 368 deaths and hospitals being put under serious strain, is just the latest example of what happens because we refuse to enforce the rules.

I  have maintained, ever since the debate started, that locking down the country is a ridiculous solution as it is disastrous for the economy and pushes the vast majority of the Jamaican poor further into financial ruin and despair.

If we were serious about enforcing the protocols like hand washing, social distancing etc, we could learn  by now to survive effectively with this invisible enemy. In fact, although being in the vulnerable age group, I have continued doing most of what I love to do, because I make sure to take the necessary steps to protect my health and those with whom I must come into contact.

However, because of the lack of strict enforcement by the authorities (for whatever reason!) on those who refuse to follow the sensible protocols, we now see this frightening spike in the spread of the virus as delinquent taxi drivers have continued to pack up their vehicles with unmasked drivers and passengers, young people continue to hold and attend events totally unmasked, and the rich have continued to have their carefree parties both at home and at sea, and on and on, right under the noses of the so-called enforcers.

So now  we are facing  crisis and there is the heavy handed response and widespread panic response by the government.

Can someone please tell me why they should implement national restrictions on the entire country and not just on those pockets where the spread is now a problem? For example, why are Clarendon, Portland, St. Mary and Westmorland being treated the same as other parishes where the spread is rife? Isn't it more logical to deploy people and other resources to enforce the protocols where they are needed and leave the less affected parishes alone?

 No , I guess that is too simplistic in a country where the mantra has always been that the good must suffer for the bad. 

As long as we continue to ignore the fact that corruption and the lack of enforcement go hand in hand, and only a few continue to benefit to the detriment of the vast majority, we will continue on the slippery slope to our own destruction.

Return to Mayfield Falls

The first time I visited Mayfield Falls, was about fifteen or sixteen years ago. Why I even have an inkling about how long ago it was, is because my grandson Shadrach was around 8 years old at the time, and being disobedient as usual, he had refused to keep on his shoes. Once he discovered the discomfort of walking on river rocks however, we had to turn back so he could put them on!

The only other things I remember vividly are; how poor the roads were getting there, how wonderful it was frolicking in the various pools in the river and even diving and swimming through a huge rock in the river. Also, that was the first time I ever saw or heard of the wonder plant Turmeric. At that time it was apparently growing quite wild in the mini rain forest there, but now I understand it is planted and nourished carefully, as the price is  now really great.

Anyway, I have always loudly expressed a desire to return to Mayfield Falls and finally my dream came true when outdoor enthusiast  extraordinaire Michael Chuck decided to treat his friends to an outing there to celebrate his birthday.

What a wonderful gesture that was and what a great time we had. Thanks Michael.

So on Sunday February 2nd 2020, twenty six of us, including some Fun and thills regulars,  plus a very competent driver Michael, departed from Kingston on schedule at 7am.

Judy closest, Sheryl in front of her

Also on the trip, were my newly found cousins, Judy and Sheryl, who are from Seattle, Washington and are in Jamaica to enjoy our wonderful island and connect with their local relatives.

The Fun and Thrills regulars

The first stop was Jucci Beef in Clarendon where some of us had breakfast. Always remembering how delicious their peanut and hominy porridge always was, that was my immediate choice and I was not disappointed.

After that, with full bellies, we enthusiastically headed out to find the waterfalls. Alas however, someone seems to have forgotten to get directions, for as we were merrily enjoying the scenery and interesting interaction, we discovered we had missed a turn and were heading probably to Negril.

I could not help, as all I could remember about that place was that it was near Petersfield in Westmorland and the road to get there was unpaved and extremely bad.

Anyway we quickly got good directions by phone, turned around and before noon we were finally at our destination. (Incidentially, the road is now paved but narrow and with lots of potholes.)

I could not even recognize the place as it seemed to have changed, anyway, everything in Jamaica has changed in fifteen years!

I recall that at the time I first went there, a dispute was in progress between two operators at the falls and they even made the Star news for it had apparently erupted into violence. However, speaking to the guides on this trip, I was informed that everything was honky dory between them and they were both operating in harmony.

There is steel under the bamboos

This pristine attraction is in Glenbrook which is close to the border of Hanover and Westmorland. Mayfield river is  a tributary of the Cabarita River, which lies in the shadow of the 1800 foot Dolphin  Head mountains.

After we arrived there, it was pure joy. Some people opted to take the dry route on the side of the river but most of us went on foot up river so we could get frequent water massages and swim to our heart's delight.

The journey started with us crossing the river on as scary-looking bamboo bridge but when we were assured that the bridge had solid steel underneath, most people took comfort and dived in literally.

The trek upriver to the "Washing Machine" falls, took about an hour and a half as we swam and fooled around, some even getting mud masks rubbed on their faces and bodies by the eager guides.

On the return journey we came down on the track by the riverside and that took less than half hour as the trip back is quite short.

My only regret is that because this was a wet trip, we did not have our cameras, but one guide took pictures for us and circulated them widely. Unfortunately none showing the actual washing machine water fall was evident but I am grateful for small mercies.

After that glorious trek, we started a game of dominoes but it was interrupted by the call to food which included my favorite, roasted suckling pig. That call found me way up front in the line very quickly. After eating to my heart's content, the wonderful crackling and the delicious rice cooked inside the pig, the desert was tasty carrot cake baked by Mike's wife Karen.

That is as close to heaven that I will ever get I think!

Michael inspects the yummy suckling pig

As expected, on the way home after a simulating outing most of us slept, but I was rudely awakened when we got outside of Mandeville where there was a huge traffic snarl because of an accident, where I understand at least one person was killed.

Return to Jamaica 2018

L-R, Taureans Hector, Joan, Kippo, Delroy and MC Audley

Although I have been residing in Florida since my retirement from radio, an annual May visit to Silver Sands will always be on the agenda. For you see, my brother Bernie is a party animal who never needs a reason to host one, so my birthday has been hosted there, compliments of he and his wife Judy,  every year for around eight years now.

Coretta looks fabulous in her bikini

This year was no exception. The pleasant addition though was having my niece Coretta from Canada, joining us there for a week.

Others in-house for the week too were Bernie's friend from days at school at Cornwall College, Howard Johnson aka Kippo and his wife Joyce.

The usual Taureans were in attendance except for my good friend, Michael James who had some health issues. Delroy and Hector, the other regulars, cut the cake along with a newcomer Kippo. It was quite funny though, for in calling up the Taureans, MC Audely forgot his own daughter Kim, another Taurean, who was very much in attendance!

She, therefore was out of the cake cutting this year.

Coretta and I pose at Noisy River

As usual, when we hang out at Silver Sands, despite the fabulous beach which is always inviting, we do go out touring.

We were all therefore extremely disappointed on the Labour day holiday when we drove all the way to St. Elizabeth to visit YS falls, only to find it closed. It seems to be the tradition in St. Elizabeth to close their attractions on holidays, for we drove over to Appleton to do the rum tour and that too was closed.

The magnificent Good Hope great house in the background

As we were near to Middlequarters where my grandparents had lived, we visited their old home, a place about which I have fond memories. Their old house was sold and is so beautifully remodeled that no one would recognize the place. The Moravian church built on land which my grandmother donated is still there though as are the tombs of my grandparents, their two daughters who died in infancy and my uncle. Coretta has land there so we got lots of papayas from the gentleman who looks after her place.

We also visited Noisy River which is always open and saw them setting up sound equipment for what would no doubt be an exciting day of frolicking for the thousands who often flock that venue for a swim and general lyme later.

Bernie relaxes at Good Hope. One of the former slave quarters is in the background

We did not tarry there, however, instead headed to the popular Bluefileds beach in Westmorland only to find it jam-packed.  In fact, it was so crowded that we could barely maneuver our way back out to the main road after driving down to the beach.

Bernie and Judy enjoy the fabulous view

What we discovered on Labour day was that there is an ackee shortage in western Jamaica. It was really shocking for we traversed four parishes, St.James, Trelawny, St. Elizabeth and Westmoraland but although everyone was looking out for some,  we could not find one vendor selling the main ingredient in Jamaica's national dish! That is extremely abnormal, for it is customary to always find people selling this popular product on the sidewalks.

We later learned that there is no similar shortage in the eastern side of the island though for we easily found some in Kingston and heard that in places such as St. Thomas, it is always available.

On another trek, we visited Good Hope great house in Trelawny from where you get a  scenic view of our important national treasure, the Cockpit Country.

Everyone believed the washerwoman was real!

This was once a brutal slave plantation but today it is operated as a small hotel and there are numerous attractions on the grounds. Of all the attractions, my favorite was this carving of a washerwoman. It is so lifelike, that when I posted the picture of me standing beside the carving on Facebook, it fooled everyone into believing she was real!

We also went over to Negril to visit friends there.

Hanging out at a rest stop on  the way to Negril

Boats anchored at Negril beach

Later, we journeyed to Kingston (minus Coretta who had to go back to Canada), to attend my former in-laws' family reunion. By then, my daughter Michele, granddaughter Maddy and daughter in law, Michelle had already flown into Kingston to attend.

 This is the second occasion on which I attended such a gathering,  for although I have long divorced my ex-husband, his family remains near and dear to me.

No one believes aunt Gladys is 90 years old!

In fact, his mom, Hazel has been my best friend and alternative mother for decades.

Posing with my friend Hazel

She is now 96 years old and extremely alert although she cannot move around by herself due to having a stroke some years ago.

She is well taken care of by her son Chully who ensures that she lacks nothing and can live out the rest of her life in peace and comfort.

Her sister, aunt Gladys also attended the reunion. At 90 years old she looks phenomenal, not a day over 60 and I hear she still drives when at home in Canada. Her family was well represented too as some 15 of them, including children, their spouses, and children, traveled to Jamaica for the event.

After the reunion, my daughter, granddaughter

Overlooking Montego Freeport

 and I went to Montego Bay for a few days at what she describes the Pirate hotel there, for it really caters to children.

It was another unforgettable vacation at home, spoilt only by the fact that we have an extremely lousy member of parliament in Kingson, one DelroyChuck, who has made no effort to fix the roads in the area where my home is.

Here the potholes have become so large and disgraceful that some of them have even taken on distinctive shapes......like the one below which is shaped like a heart.

In this case, the heart is definitely not the symbol of love!

Morant Bay Ride

For some time now, a few ambitious members of "Fun and Thrills" have been toying with the idea of riding to Negril, Westmorland, some 140 miles from Hope Pastures. Now it seems our toying days are over as the date has been set for Sunday October 18th and based on a resolution adopted on top of some hill, we have started to do long endurance rides.

So on Sunday 13th September we had our first endurance ride to Morant Bay, St. Thomas, a distance of 34 miles according to our top sprinter, (the Bolt of Fun and Thrills) Barry. Well departure time from Hope Pastures was set for 5.30 am to beat the sun, but having arrived on time many times and having to wait on the latecomers, I have slowly been becoming a latecomer myself! So I arrived at 6am only to find everyone on board. Winston drove the support vehicle accompanied by his son Zackaria.

Actually, it was a pretty non-exhaustive ride to Yallahs, (Barry tells me that a rasta man told him the real name for Yallahs is Ayallah,but the English colonial masters could not pronounce it and therefore corrupted it to Yallahs). So mi get it so mi give it and since rastas don’t lie, I believe it!)for apart from a small section in the Bull Bay area, it was level riding. I was actually feeling so comfortable that when I saw a number of my colleagues resting at Albion, I didn't feel like stopping. On hearing that Andrew had gone ahead, I decided to try and catch him up.

Now that was probably my gravest error for unbeknownst to me, Andrew stopped in Yallahs. So there I was killing myself to catch him up , long after he had stopped! By then the sun was in full swing and extreme heat was coming up from the asphalt, but I was determined not to stop until I saw him. Then thank God I saw Barry and Darragh (a young Irishman who is so fit that he has competed in the Ironman triathlon although he smokes!) at a shop where thy had stopped to buy a cold beer and Guiness and give Darragh an opportunity to smoke a cigarette. So I got a little rest before they took off like Bolt and I did not see them again until they had reached Morant Bay and turned back to "Washoff" where there is that little waterfall by the road.

So on I plodded by myself and in the hot sun, still determined not to stop until I caught up Andrew. On approaching Whitehorses, there is quite a challenging hill and I heard a bike coming behind me which changed down to first gear as the hill was so steep. That's when I knew I was crazy to be using woman power to get up that hill when no one was paying me to do so!

 The irrationality of the situation was further reinforced when I saw a man ahead of me pushing his bicycle up the hill. Aha I thought, if a man has to pushing his bicycle up this horrible hill the so can I. Then it occurred to me that maybe he had a puncture. As if to tease me, he then jumped on his bicycle at that very moment, then after pedaling for about 30 seconds, he dismounted and started to push again. That was all I needed to dismount too, but my conscience said to me that I ride up Long Mountain every week and he doesn’t so I should not get off. So I obeyed and on I toiled. That's when Howie, who had stopped in Albion to wait on the others, flew past me. That’s about when I finally reached the top and saw the lovely downhill ride and the clear, inviting, blue, sea which seemed to be calling out to me to jump in and cool off. All that seemed to have been sent by God as a reward for my perseverance !

 As the downhill section finished, I had arrived at "Washoff" and there to my delight, sat Howie and Damit at a stall drinking cold coconuts. Boy was I ever happy to join them, especially since my water had been exhausted and I had been becoming quite thirsty. There we stayed in the shade till Andrew who I had stupidly been chasing,, arrived. Then came David, Charles, Michael, Grace and Renee (not necessarily  in that order).

 Next, we saw Darragh and Barry coming back. Well those of us who thought that we could have called it a day, were in for a disappointment as team leader and dictator Michael mandated that we must finish the ride. So after a while it was back in the sun for another five miles to the round about.

We all got there within minutes of each other and started to ride back to find the support vehicle. Luckily Winston came within view very quickly and Renee and I gave up our bicycles immediately for a ride in the van. Then we saw Betty arrive in an air-conditioned vehicle and Winston was immediately rejected! At one point we thought mad Michael followed by naive David were planning to ride back to Kingston but when we got back to "Washoff" they too jumped into the vehicles.

 Then it was on to 'Survival" for a delicious breakfast of ackee, mackerel and callalloo with wonderful food and fried jonnie cakes. That was around 11am and only after that did I begin to feel normal.

Well as we of "Fun and thrills” like to finish a day’s expedition with a swim, we headed for Grants Pen beach (in St. Thomas). But bearing in mind the frequent reports about crime in that area and seeing how narrow the road was, making it difficulty to make a quick getaway if necessary, we decided to go to Cable Hut beach in Bull Bay instead. That was a wise decision as the sea was unusually calm. Barry, Renee and Darragh who left us after breakfast, missed the best part of that ride!