by Christian Adams

Created on: July 26, 2008

Of the three tropical stops on our 8 day Carnival Cruise, it was Jamaica that I was looking most forward to. There are places in this world that I consider to be truly free Amsterdam is one. When Susanne and I went there I was in awe the whole time. Prostitutes, legal drug use, renegade granny-bike riders... Of course I was totally out of my element, but I loved it. I don't know why I thought that Jamaica would be similar.

Stepping onto the pier from the boat ramp and breathing in the late morning air reveals an unexpected funky humidity here in Jamaica. I'm not sure why I had anticipated a refreshing (or at least odor free) breeze - this is, after all, a port city. Ocho Rios is pretty enough, though I mean back up over the hills where the shadows of the surrounding mountains shade the Jamaican forest and Victorian Mansions it seemed very pretty back over there.

Once off the pier there are lots of little shops and stands where people are all trying to sell you t-shirts and clay pots and whatnot. It usually takes walking about 4 blocks to get away from all of the Carnival Cruise stuff and the escape is always my primary goal. However, within one block we realized that Jamaica is a 'high pressure sales' beast unlike any other. One Jamaican hustler after another "Taxi?", "Party?", "Tour of Jamaica?" ugg. If you say "no" they actually follow and argue with you. Before long you're like the Jamaican pied-piper, leading a mob of Stoned Jamaican used-car salesman away from the Cruise ship.

I was hoping to rent motorcycles or whatever. I didn't want to be here, or around here. I wanted to be "up there", away from all the predators and into the great Jamaican mountainside. So, we walked and kept our eyes open for fun things. Susanne doesn't do well in places like this and I figured it was only a matter of time before these pushy Jamaicans would freak her out.

Eventually, at just the place where I had picked to turn around and head back a tall Jamaican crack-head (who we had passed 3 or 4 blocks back) reappeared and said that he didn't want to sell us anything but that we should walk down this back-street where there are mopeds to rent and a cool beach to see. We started to turn and head back, but I could sense that our retreat would lead us back to the boat and my dream of adventure would be over. So, despite Susannes' concerns we followed the merry crack-head down this back-street to a broken old hotel to have a peak at the beach (nice), then followed him down a muddy road

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