An Evening in Port Royal

Yesterday evening, we drove out of town to Port Royal, with a hunger for fish at Gloria’s Restaurant. We drove along the slowly winding road – sand and cacti on one side, mangrove-fringed lagoons on the other – with the late afternoon sun shining in our eyes. The radio said that many of Nelson Mandela’s family members had gathered at his house.

Pelicans patrol the sky over the Port Royal Road.

Afternoon sun on the Port Royal Road.

We climbed the steps to the top floor of Gloria’s (downstairs is rather stuffy). Upstairs is open to the sea breeze, which blew softly as we sat down at the table. Now, there is nothing sophisticated about Gloria’s – one does not go there for its fancy decor. It’s the food that counts. Or to be precise: the fish. Brown stew, fry, steam, fry fish, sometimes lobster.

Looking out to sea on one side, there was the dust-grey sand beach and the muffled murmur of the waves. Further out the small island of Lime Cay, with a slip of silver-white sand, rode on the water like a tiny tufted ship.

Lime Cay from Gloria’s.

My fish, crunchy and sweet, with fried bammy.

While waiting for our food, I wandered around upstairs and took a few photos, as the light became richer, glowing on the wall. The wispy grey clouds touching the Blue Mountains above Kingston turned to rose. Behind me, the sun descended to just above the low rooftops of the small town, which began to swim in orange light. The breeze went away, and the waves barely whispered.

The boys who had started a football game nearby were now playing in the growing dusk; but their voices grew louder as if the coming dark made their game more urgent.

Our bellies were full. It was time to go home, and as we got in the car and turned on the radio, we heard that Nelson Mandela had died, just as the sun was setting over Port Royal.

It was more a question of hanging out together on the worn football field than actually playing the ball…

Golden sunset over Port Royal. Do you see a bird sitting on the lamp post?

Sculptured pink clouds over Kingston.

Clouds over the mountains, looking back towards Kingston. The white scar on the hillside is from limestone quarrying.