Going West

Last Friday, before dawn, we set off on an expedition to visit a Twitter friend, whom I had never met. She was vacationing with her husband in the resort town of Negril, on the western tip of the island. We had not traveled to the west of the island for a very long time, and we decided to try out a local bus service that had been highly recommended to us, the Knutsford Express. Locals and visitors use it to get from one major town to the other, across the island. We decided to do the return trip in a day. Ambitious, but doable, we thought. It’s over 130 miles each way, but the roads have improved quite a bit.

Knutsford Express buses are pretty cool!

We are not good at getting up before dawn, these days, but the bus left Kingston at 5. That meant lurching out of bed and down to the bus station with eyes half-open. Everyone around us seemed too alert. We got little bottles of water and a free newspaper. The buses are air-conditioned and the staff are charming and polite. They have an on-board toilet that reminded us strangely of an airplane toilet, only even smaller. And they have free wifi, always a big selling-point for me.

Then suddenly, about half way through the journey a screen descended, a few inches from our faces (we were definitely in the wrong seats) and a Tyler Perry movie started up. The inane dialogue and one-dimensional characters tormented us all the way from Ocho Rios to Montego Bay. After we changed buses for Negril, our driver had another TP masterpiece lined up, but we begged him not to play it. We don’t have to be entertained every minute of the journey, we figured. Watching the world go by outside was pretty interesting. It’s nice being a little higher up than usual – you see so much. But maybe some of us might like to read a book, too, or sleep, or just have peace and quiet. It was even difficult to have a conversation with your neighbor, without Latoya or Kevin or Brian intervening from the video screen.

Sunrise from Mt. Rosser, St. Ann.

Anyway, we set off at a good, steady speed (the drivers were very careful) and soon found ourselves climbing Mt Rosser, a steep hill notorious for its twists and turns. As we ascended, the rising sun slipped above distant hills and poured a crystalline, rosy glow over the landscape. I managed to grab a couple of photos.

An unfamiliar coast.

The first stop was Ocho Rios, where we were glad to drink a cup of terrifyingly weak coffee. But it was still coffee. Back on the bus. Then the Tyler Perry. As his characters tried to work out their love affairs, with much pouting and many changes of costume, I happily watched the landscape slide by – unfamiliar towns and coastlines. With a very quick stop outside Falmouth, we were on our way to Montego Bay.

It had been a long while since we had even passed through Jamaica’s “second city.” Our memories of MoBay are few, but include a hectic weekend at an all-inclusive hotel on the so-called “Hip Strip,” which seemed to be in non-stop party mode. Now we hear the hotel has been closed for some time. Coming into the town, the towers of the luxurious Palmyra development stood empty. We drove along a hillside above the town and passed several properties in various states of disrepair, including at least two small hotels or guest houses, sad and abandoned. Down in the town again, we passed by shopping malls and more promising signs of economic activity: some commercial buildings apparently under construction. Driving through (and back again later) I thought MoBay had a disappointed look about it, though. Hard to put my finger on it. But it was just a quick trip through, so maybe I had a wrong impression.

Market scene, Lucea, Hanover.

Passing through smaller rural towns in Jamaica, such as Lucea (the capital of Hanover, Jamaica’s smallest parish) is like taking tiny glimpses into people’s lives – as short as a shutter opening and closing. Schoolboys in khaki uniforms wasting time along the road; market women chatting at their stalls; taxi operators cooling out under a shady tree. It’s everyday, it’s routine and yet has its own quietly pulsating life.

The beach is smaller than it used to be. From where we sat, it seemed very cluttered.

Negril was exactly as we had expected and knew it always to be; or perhaps an exaggerated version of what we used to enjoy during numerous trips with our young son, some years ago. But nostalgia was short-lived. The main street that runs along behind the beach seemed more crowded than ever, with small hotels and apartments on top of dive shops and restaurants and duty-free shops. There were little signs tacked up everywhere, for motorbike rentals and tattoo parlors and car mechanics and water sports operators.

There were the inevitable Negril hustlers. Sometimes they are a shifting part of the landscape, walking up and down. Or they position themselves under a tree or against a fence and startle you with a sudden hiss, offering any and every possible service or product that a tourist could desire.  Our friends found it amusing – the first two or three times.

Seabirds near Montego Bay.

There was a silver lining, though. As a bird lover, I was delighted by all the bird life that I saw in Negril – bananaquits, warblers and American Redstarts in the trees. On our return journey, in the environs of Montego Bay, groups of waders foraged and ducks clustered on large artificial ponds. I wanted to tell the bus driver to slow down so I could do some bird-watching, but of course I could not.

Negril beach scene.

Near Montego Bay.

Waiting for something or someone, in Montego Bay.

Glistening Waters, a lagoon near Falmouth, Trelawny.

 

The ride home was video madness. We sat further back to avoid the screen – but there was no escape, because there is a loudspeaker by every seat that you cannot turn up or down. So the audio was fed to us, the captive passengers. We had so many back-to-back episodes of a 1970s sitcom starring Richard Pryor and Redd Foxx that my head started spinning, as the theme tune played over and over. I can still hear it in my head now.

I think next time I will invest in a good pair of headphones before I get on the bus. Apart from that, though, the service was excellent – friendly, comfortable and efficient, and the fares are reasonable. I would heartily recommend Knutsford Express for getting around the island.

Perhaps crazy day trips are not for us any more. A more leisurely approach is required, next time.

Afternoon sun, western Jamaica.