Getting lost

 It's becoming very easy to get lost in Jamaica these days, because of the rapid development taking place everywhere.

So I guess on my annual visits I just have to get accustomed to it.🥴. 

Last year we got lost trying to find the roast yam and saltfish vendors at Melrose Hill. For they had been moved from their regular place in Williamsfield to the new highway bypassing Mandeville. And because as per usual,  no information signs had been posted anywhere about how to get to their new location, we just decided to forget the yam treat and head home to the north coast. That's when we almost ended up in the bowels Clarendon for again, there were no directional signs anywhere about how or where to connect with the Edward Seaga highway 😡.

Getting lost this year had nothing to do with signs however, but rather because of the rapid development taking place everywhere along the Northcoast highway, from Montego Bay to Ocho Rios.

This is making many areas unrecognizable! 

I had visited my friend's home in St. Anns Bay many times, but could we find the entrance today! This had been easy to find as one simply drove down a lonely, unpaved road to the beach.

But it's not lonely or unpaved anymore, for a massive housing development of some 1000 units on 100 hundred acres of land is now taking place right where the entrance had been, and more, there is now a massive private security gate.

After driving around in circles for a while, in frustration, called our friend Chris who had to drive to where we were and lead us to the new paradise. 

But it was worth the frustration as once we got there, we had a wonderful afternoon hanging out with old friends.

L-r back: David, Grace, Bernie, Joan, Chris

 Front: Shirley, Denise.

Most of us had been members of the once vibrant Fun and Thrills Adventure Club which saw us regularly hiking and riding around the island and normally ending up by a nice river where we would swim and eat delicious meals cooked right there on the river bank.

Those were the good old days.

 Today, it was really great hanging out with the old crew once we found our way.

Great memories.

Hmm. Wonder where we will get lost next year?  For with the rapid development taking place everywhere, it's bound to happen.

(NB. Some pics taken by Denise and David.)

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?

 

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!)