I wanna jog it with you

Our sleep was broken at 5:30am this morning by a knock on the door and a voice saying, “Hello, good-morning, its time for our walk, our exercise.”
We leapt out of bed and were washed, dressed and ready to go with in minutes. Mar had promised to take us walking, which is part of her weekly exercise. So armed with a bottle of water, we made our way to Queen’s Hill at a brisk pace.

As the ladies walked, I started jogging, but kept them in sight by doing 30-40 metre circles around them. Queen’s Hill was very steep and a lot of people exercised there: jogging, walking, stretching, sit-ups etc. The views from the top of the hill were magnificent, as you can see from some photos Crecy took.

We returned via Red Hills, which was all down hill, but the road was windy, so we had to stay close to the hedges because of the cars and buses. As we walked pass the bottom of Queen’s Hill there was huge gully and some captured land (squatted land) on our left, I saw three John Crows (vultures) pecking at a dead animal, I remember hearing my dad use the phase, “you john crow,” but never really knew what it meant or what a john crow was so I took a picture and thought how it related to his saying. The homes on the captured land were make shift made from: bits of wood, tarpaulin, zinc, corrugated iron and breeze-blocks to keep the roof anchored down, in fact anything that could be used; toilets and kitchens appear to be separate annexes.

As we were walking through St Patrick’s a resident said to Mar, “You losing weight or keeping fit?”
“Both.” She replied,
To which he replied, “Thy kingdom, thy will be done, if you born fi be big, you can only keep fit.”

After a shower, I had roast breadfruit and mangoes for breakfast. At noon we walked to the local Plaza with Andre (Mar’s son) to do some shopping, but were disappointed to find there where only a few shops, the exit to the plaza was full of hawkers and taxis touting for business. Migal, Jackie’s brother drove there, which was just as well, because it began to rain and he gave us a lift home. We spent the rest of the afternoon twiddling our thumps and after the rain stopped, we stood at the front gate watching, waiting, and greeting people as they passed by. Dinner was chicken-foot soup, followed by mangoes; called Julie mangoes, much sweeter and more fleshly than the number 11, stringy or green-gauge. After dinner we checked in with England and sat around waiting for Mar to return home.

Mar arrived home about 6:30pm and took us to Emancipation Park or Penis Park to the locals, in up town Kingston. The park has a statue of a naked man and women at its main entrance (hence the locals name for the park), a 400 metre jogging path, a number of trees (coco tree, see pic) and plants from home and aboard, water fountain, concert stand and its own security guards, to ensure the park is used correctly by its visitors. It is such a beautiful park that there were two wedding parties taking pictures. An hour or so later we left for Devon House Mansion.



Devon House is the architectural dream of Jamaica’s first black millionaire George Stiebel. Stiebel was among three wealthy Jamaicans who constructed elaborate homes during the late 19th century at the corner of Trafalgar Road and Hope Road, which fittingly became known as the Millionaires Corner. Unfortunately the house was closed due to a private function. But the gardens and some shops were still open. After looking around the souvenir shop, we went into the scream shop (there spelling not mine), and order ice cream, there were 31 different favours to choose from and after a twenty minute wait, we sat in the gardens soaking up the atmosphere, whilst enjoying a delectable ice-cream. On the way home we quizzed Mar about which church we should attend, she couldn’t recommend any because she knew very little about them, so we agreed to attend the church of Nazarene.

Roots, rock, who? 4th July

It was extremely warm during the night so we slept with the fan on all night and with no community alarm to disturb our sleep we had a lay in. For breakfast I had breadfruit and a couple of green-gauge mangoes. About 10am Andy arrived and we were soon on our way to what would be one of the high-lights of our trip to JA.

We had one stop to make on the way and that was in Yallahs to see Heather one of Jackie’s friends. She gave us some ice-cold drinks, which we drank as stood in the shade of a mango tree watching the JA police in action, stopping taxis and speeding cars, I was advise not to take pictures, because the may confiscate my camera and even arrest me. When we finished our drinks Heather gave us directions to St Thomas and said, “I will you see on Tuesday, I am coming to Hopewell to see Ms Lena.”
We thanked her and said goodbye.

Upon reaching St Thomas, we stopped at local shop and Andy asked a lady sitting outside the shop, if the knew where Roy Campbell lives,
The women said, “we have a couple of Roy’s who live a round here, I need some more information.”
Andy called me and said, “The woman needs more information about your dad.”
I walked over and said, “He is married and his wife’s name use to be Ms Brown.”
“Oh you mean big Roy and Ms Brown, them live just down the road, go round the bend and take the second left,” she said.
We thanked her and left, as we drove Andy said, “Whatever you got to say to him, you better plan it now, are you sure you will recognise him?”
I assured him I would,
We turned left on to a track that went up a hill. About half way up we stopped and asked another lady if she knew where he lived, she looked us, up and down and only answered us, when I told I was from England and had come to see my dad.
“Your right here, that his house there,” she said pointing towards it.

We parked and tapped on the gate and shouted, “Hello.”
A lady came out, whom I didn’t recognise; I asked her if Roy was there,
“No, them gone out” she said,
I said, “I am his son from England”
She replied, “You look like him, you want to come in and wait, they will only be about hour,”
I asked the others if they where prepared to wait, they all agreed.
We sat on the veranda and bantered a little about the shock that was now awaiting my father. The lady called him from the house phone and said, “You have some visitors, I not telling you who it is,” and put the phone down.
Andy urged me to ask her some questions, to find out who she was, but we only received one syllable answers,
Every time a car came past we looked up in anticipation of it being them, about 35mins later a white Corolla drove past,
I said to Andy, Crécy and Jackie, “that’s him.”

All eyes were fixed on the gate, within a minute or so, dad walked in, followed by Mrs Campbell aka Ms Brown and her sister.
I stood up and walked over to him and said hello
He said “hello” and stared at me.
I said, “This is my wife Crécy, this is Jackie a lady from my church and this is Andy a friend from Kingston.”
He looked round at everyone and said hello to them and then turned back to me, with blank look on his face. Again I introduce all the others.
He muttered, “Yes, yes, but who are you?”
I paused for a minute and said, “I am Eddie, but you call me Edward”
“Edward, Edward who, I know a lot of Edwards.” He replied
“Edward Adolphus,” I said,
Hoping to jog to his memory, but only his expression changed from a blank look to one of confusion. Mrs Campbell (snr) passed behind him, smiled, and nodded.
“Edward Adolphus Campbell.” I said,
He repeated my words back to himself; I could hear his brain ticking, as his eyes moved side to side and puzzlement written across his face,
“Yes Edward Adolphus Campbell, your son from England.” I said
He paused for a minute and said, “You mean Claudette’s brother,”
“Yes dad, Claudette’s brother” I replied,
“So how are you?” he asked,
“Have a seat,” he said, looking very surprised and bewildered.
Mrs Campbell (snr) came out and gave me a hug and whispered in my ear I knew it was you. I was surprised that dad hadn’t put two and two together considering all the clues I had given him and our likeness in appearance. We sat and spoke over neasberries (a very tasty fruit, fresh picked from his tree) and ice cold drinks.

I asked about grandma, he told me she was in Morant Bay hospital because she had a stroke and wasn’t too good. I asked if I was possible to visit her.
“Oh yes, between 4-6pm,” he replied.
I asked Andy, Jackie and Crécy if it we could stop at the hospital, they said, “Yes.”
Andy asked dad for directions, dad said he would come with us, which we thought was a good idea as I had never met Nan before. Dad said we could stop on the way to see my three aunts that lived close by, if we left very soon. But before we left dad gave us a tour of his house and told us about his land at the top of hill, which is now rented out to some local. Before leaving we posed for some pictures, Mrs Campbell gave us each a breadfruit and some neasberries, we hugged and said we would stay in touch.

About fifteen minutes later we all piled into the people carrier and drove one kilometre to Aunty Rose’s home. Dad called her and introduced me as Claudette’s brother, she hugged me and said, “You are the only one; we’ve never seen and only heard of, but now is our time to meet, it’s great to see you.”
She then asked if Crécy and Jackie were my daughters, I laughed and explained who they were. I guess Crécy looks so young because of my tender loving care. She then introduced us to her children and husband, Chloe her daughter from Canada asked if we would like a jelly coconut,
“Oh yes please” I replied,
So she took a coconut from the kitchen, along with a machétti, headed to the garden and retuned with it decapitated, the coconut water was delicious, she then asked Crecy, Jackie and Andy if they would like one and received various replies. We all went out into the garden to enjoy some of the sunshine and views, Crécy and Jackie went up on the roof of the house to see some breathe taking views of St Thomas. Chloe told me, she had done a family tree, which has over two hundred family member listed and would now add my children and grand-children. Seeing I had enjoyed the coconut water,
She asked “Do you want the jelly; it is the best part,”
“Oh yes,” I replied.
She took the coconut, placed it on stone and wielded the machétti at it in a wild manner, as her sister and daughter pleaded with her to be careful and the rest of us cringed. The jelly was fantastic, we all posed for pictures and promised to keep contact and said goodbye.

Another two kilometres and we arrived at the home of Aunty Nelly; dad explained who we all were, it was a short visit because she was unwell. Dad then directed Andy to a local supermarket where three of my cousins worked, in fact there were five cousins (I can’t remember their names),
Dad said “this is Claudette’s brother Eddie from England.”
One of cousins replied, “If he is your son, why don’t you say so, instead of saying he’s Claudette’s brother,”
A bold and true statement I thought to myself, remembering my dad’s temperament
“Yes your right” he replied to my shock.
She then look at me and said, “how comes your white and if you’re my cousin how comes I never seen you before?”
Before I had a chance to answer her questions, they were answered by one of the other cousins. We spoke for a while, as I took some pictures, dad reminded that us we needed to be on our way to the hospital.
We said our goodbyes and left for the hospital, as we drove through the parish it became apparent that dad was well known, as he shouted to people and they refereed to him as dragon, Armin and big Roy.

As we walked towards the hospital, the porters and a number of men were gathered around the porters office watching the cricket and Andy paused to check the scores, As we were about to go up to the wards, we were stopped by the security officer because the ladies were in appropriately dress according to hospital policy and had to cover their shoulders and arms, which they did. Dad led us to Nan’s bedside and we stood around her bed. Her eyes looked around at us all, she tried to say something, but her voice was very faint. Dad told her who we were and said, “Look see your grandson Eddie there,” pointing, “Look at him, this is the only you have never seen until now.”
I stood holding her hand and talking to her, as I fought to hold back the tears, I expected to meet her, but not like this. The wards and equipment were very basic, iron beds, with a thin mattress and pieces of wood as side rails; it was all something you and I would see in period drama.
Dad said, “She looked a lot better today; two days ago they thought she was gone,”
We praised God and said our emotional and tearful goodbyes, knowing we may never see her again. It was solemn journey to my Aunt Sarah’s house, even though the West Indies’ lost by two runs.

Aunt Rose (dad’s eldest sister) lives just off the high street, down a cul-de-sac which has a small and narrow makeshift footbridge across a gully to several homes. As we approached her house dad called out her name,
“Yes, brother Roy, I am here,” came they reply
“Come here, I want you to meet Eddie,” he said
We were now standing at her front door, which burst open and out came Aunt Sarah with her arms raised, she gripped me with what can only be described as a full nelson,
Saying, “Eddie, Roy’s son from England, Eddie me nephew, the only one I have never seen?” as her grip got tighter and tighter and she danced with joy. I can’t ever remember, receiving such a welcome.
“Lord, thank God you come to see us, we always wonder if we would ever see you?” she said.
After a couple of minutes she glanced over my shoulder and asked who the others were,
“Are these your daughters?” she asked.
I introduced her to them, as she released her grip of my body and applied it to my arm. We walked around her garden together looking at the variety of fruits, plants, and a small lizard perched on a tyre. Aunt Sarah showed us around her home and gave us a freshly picked pineapple from the garden, when it was time for us to leave, she walked us back to the people carrier, still latched on to my arm and not letting go until I promised to keep in contact with her.

On our way back to dad’s house we stopped at a roadside restaurant and had roast fish, fried chicken, festival, rice and peas, please sir can I have more? It was so scrumptious, recharged it was time to drop dad off and head for Kingston. Dad insisted we drop him off at the bottom of the hill, he said goodbye to Crécy, Jackie and Andy and hugged me, and we exchanged telephone numbers and agreed to stay in touch.

As we drove back Andy said, “You’re the spitting image of your dad, only he’s darker, but he seems alright and a big chief in St Thomas.”
I replied, “He was ok because Jackie was with us, he liked Jackie. Did you see the way he remembered her name and introduced her, cared for her by holding open the car door, helping her in and out the vehicle etc,” we all laughed.
We all teased with her about my dad’s response towards to her, causing her to blush.
“I asked Mrs Campbell (jnr), what she thought of her father-in-law,”
“He’s ok” she replied.

It was quiet a day, exploring my roots, meeting dad again for the first time in thirty five years and trying to judge his reactions, meeting relatives for the first time, stirred up lots of different emotions, but I praise God for them all. We made quick stop at mega-mart to buy some cake, so the girls could have cake and custard, their favourite desert.

Kington, rock, croc cruise

The local community alarm clock went off again at day break; I tried to get back to sleep, only to be woken again and again by his intermittent crowing. A couple of hours later, I got up and sat on the veranda plotting how I might silence the alarm, when no ideas came to mind, I switched my attention to reading my bible, followed by some exercise and a shower, Jackie called us for breakfast. It was callaloo, tomato, plantain and dumplings; it was like having dinner for breakfast. After breakfast we once again sat waiting for information about the arrangements for the day. Jackie appeared with a large bag and said, “So you ready?”
“Yes” I replied, “and it looks like you’re moving”
“Yes we’re going to Kingston; I’ve got some things to drop off for people and some my clothes.”
“Clothes, what for?” we asked looking bewildered
She replied “Where staying with my sister in Kingston until next week, you didn’t remember.”
“I didn’t know we where staying there, I thought we were just visiting for the day,” I said.
“No” she said “we‘re going to stay by my sister until next Tuesday. I did wonder why you didn’t have any bag.”
So we hastily threw everything in to our bag and brought it out on the veranda. Andy a friend or relation of the family arrived introduced himself and went to see Mrs Lena. About forty five minutes later, we put our bags into his people carrier and after saying our goodbyes we left for Kingston.

Andy gave us a running commentary about the different areas as we drove along. We stopped at Black River to see how much an hour’s cruise on the river would be, the prices were reasonable so we booked to go on the next boat while Andy stayed with the people carrier. On the boat Crécy and Jackie sat near the boat operator and I sat at the front. Just after we’d pulled away from the bank, he introduced himself as Royston the captain of the vessel and said we were going to visit some crocodiles. As we moved along a little further we saw a croc sun bathing on the bank, it looked like moulded plastic, but he assured us it wasn’t, he then took up a cup of water from the river and threw it towards its mouth, the crocs jaws snapped shut, making us all jump. He told us a bit about the crocs and we continued our cruise with everyone on the look out for more crocs. Another 200 metres and there was another one, Royston called him John and threw some pieces of chicken to get his attention saying, “Come, come, come.”
John ate the food and moved closer to the boat, while those who sat on that side of the boat took up fearful positions, one knee on the seat, the other leg straight out, hands inside the boat, resting gingerly on the edge with arms slightly bent in case they needed to launch themselves backwards. Those behind them were standing very close to their seats and peering over the backs and shoulders of the others. Royston told us we had nothing to fear, “there all friendly and because they’re Jamaican, they smoke the best marijuana, so there cool, if we fall in there is “No problem” they will help us to swim back to the bank,” he didn’t help to increase our confidence. A bit further on and we saw three different spices of birds living in the trees, he said, “They need to be careful or they could end up as dinner.” He then told us about the different rooting system of plants and trees that lives alongside the river, he then picked a beautiful and sweet smelling blue flower called lavender blue and passed it around, so everyone could smell of its fragrance. About 350 yards on, someone spotted a croc sun bathing or doing back stoke, Royston pointed out it was dead. We saw a fisherman in the shade of the trees preparing crab and shrimp traps, Royston stopped and showed us a shrimp trap and explained how it worked and then a crab trap complete with crabs. We moved on to the next spot where George the croc lives, the captain called him, saying, “Come, come, come,” as we stood with cameras ready to snap the celebrity. But the waters didn’t stir, so he called again, but still no stir or no answer, as all eyes scanned the river for any movement.
He said, “George must be out shopping or looking for a date.”
We continued our cruise, he pointed out a tree called Rasta-man’s pipes and a tree with a termites nest, which we could post home to a favourite friend or in-law, as we came to a cal-de-sac and waited for another tour boat to leave. Royston said, “Tom and Jerry lives in this part of the river and I will bring one on board the boat for you all to see how friendly they are” several people asked if he was really going to bring one on board,
“Oh yes” he replied.
“You will see they are very friendly, they only attack when they have young or if they smell blood”, he said.
As Royston manoeuvred the boat into position, we saw a small croc. He called to her, saying “Come, come, come,” and throwing pieces of chicken, as Jerry came along side the boat, he opened the side door and crouched down, everyone looked on fearfully, wondering what he was about to do! To our relief he shook the croc’s hand and invited everyone on board to do the same. With the exception of one other person, I took this once in a life time opportunity, I must admit I was nervous, so for extra protection, I leaned over Royston who was crouched on the floor and ran my hand across her hard, knobbly, but flexible back and shook her muscular hand, whist Crécy tried take some pictures. A few minutes later Royston shut the side door and said, “I have some freshly squeezed croc juice for you all to taste, its made from crocs, some fruits and river water.”
He poured the delicious looking juice into cups and we passed them round. Whist this was happening another croc surfaced, Tom I believe, he was bulkier and longer than Jerry.
Royston said “look we might see some action, two crocs in the same location means trouble, unless their mating,”
We all watched as Tom came closer and Jerry moved closer to the rear of the boat. I am glad to say Jerry ducked under the boat and swam away. Royston turned the boat around and headed back to the pier, because of the heat, he turned the air conditioning on. Air conditioning on an open boat with only a canopy is to drive at high speed. As we got off the boat, some of the hawkers tried to sell us souvenirs they had hand-crafted from wood.

We left Black Water and continued on our planned journey to Kingston. In St Elisabeth there is place called Lovers Leap, which Jackie wanted to visit but had never got round to, even though she grew up in JA, so we took a detour.

After parking the car, we made our way to the viewing balcony; which is about 1500 feet above the sea. When Crécy and Jackie stepped out on to the balcony and saw the height and steep fall, they moved to back to the safety of the building. From the balcony you had a good view of the leap, you could also see were people have craved the names on the top on plants and tree stumps that they could reach without failing, to the right you get a clear view of Treasure Island.

It is called Lovers Leap because Jerome a slave and Anita the plantation owner daughter were in love, knowing their secret was about to be discovered, they leapt to their death or so folk-lore says. We went into the main building and looked at some museum pieces related to the plantation, during which we had some drinks from the bar, outside we took some pictures in the grounds and then continued our journey towards Kingston.

Half an hour into our Journey and another stop; this time to see Andy’s sister Mercy. She was house, sitting in a place called Chocolate Valley. She offered us some water melon and stringy mangoes, which we ate on the rear veranda, they were cool and refreshing and threw the skins into the over grown garden as instructed. As we talked, I heard a rustling coming from the garden, as I looked a goat appeared from behind a bush, walking towards the veranda. It was Mercy’s goat and it came looking for food. We gave it the peel of the fruits we had eaten. Mercy went and picked about nine green gauge mangoes from the trees in garden and the goat followed her around the garden. At the front of the house, there were okra and tomato plants, the tomatoes were growing on the ground and because the crop was so large, they were left to rot. We said goodbye to Mercy and continued our journey.

About a ten kilometres out side of Kingston there was a lay-by, full of stone huts (about 15) and they all sold roast yam. As we pulled in and slowed down, the people carrier was suddenly surrounded by three, maybe four men, with roasted yam (in foil) in their hands, waving it in front of us, through the open windows and pleading with us to buy from them, we let Andy take care of negotiations. No sooner had they disappeared and we were approached by women wanting to sell us drinks. We sat in the lay-by and enjoyed the roast yam with some roast salt-fish.

Once we refuelled we continued on our way to Kingston. As we approached the city, some seven hours later, we could see the industrial mist above it, it was also much warmer (33c-36c) and more densely populated than Hopewell. We could see the ghettos and the makeshift homes dotted about as we drove on the outskirts of the city. Within minutes we arrived at Marion and Andre’s home, Jackie’s eldest sister and nephew.

After the introductions, we spoke to Andy about the arrangements for D-day; after which we had a lovely meal and were shown our bedroom with on suite at front of the house.

Jamaican Tastee's (2nd July)

Our first night in Hopewell was very different from a night in Central London, with its sirens, people shouting, the lorries, buses and cars charging and crashing over speed bumps outside our house causing it to shake, in Hopewell there are no streetlamps, so its was extremely dark and quiet, except for the motorbike that spluttered up the road and a local cockerel making himself heard every half an hour from 3:30am onwards, as dawn broke the crickets chirped and birds tweeted, joined the morning chorus. About 7ish we sat on the veranda reading our bibles and watched the morning mist disappear along with the shadow of the house as the sun rose from behind it. It was so peaceful you could hear the odd dog barking and cat meowing that was some half mile away, and occasionally you heard people and children walking along the road; before they came into sight, if they saw you, they were very polite and would say, “Hello, good-morning.”
And we would respond in the same manner.

Our peace was disturbed by the call for breakfast. Crécy made salty tea, because she followed Jackie’s instructions and used the wrong container. Jackie presented us with well done (burnt) toast (which I love) and then proceeded to baptise us with Malta drink, which fell from the fridge. After blaming the world and his wife, she called “Sharrron” in a slightly raised voice, because she was unable to locate the mop, dustpan and broom, according to Jackie, she was the only person who knew where things were or so Jackie believed, I pointed to the items she was looking for whist saying, “you just need to look.”
We laughed and I said, “You’re just like picking on Sharon, because she is your younger sister,”
She replied “no its not true; Sharon should know where everything is” laughing
“Sharrron you hear what the pastor and his wife is saying” she said.

After our breakfast and banter, we showered and sat on veranda, waiting and wondering about Jackie’s plans for today. As we sat there with Miss Lena, Peter, Jackie’s cousin arrived; he was full of life and bantered with Miss Lena.

She responded saying, “If I catch you’re neck, I would squeeze it”
He replied, “Goo waaay, you couldn’t squeeze a good plate of food.”
She laughed saying “you’ll see, I said you will see”

He told us some folklore regarding the names of places in Jamaica. These are direct quotes from him: in St Elizabeth there an area called pepper, because it gets its name from the Spanish word pimento. The Parish of Hanover got its name because; Westmoreland and St James didn’t know what to do with it so they “hand it over”. The boats from Haiti don’t need any engine to come Jamaica, because if you give a good push they will sail straight down into Portland or St Thomas, because it said to be all down hill. St Thomas is said to be the place where you can find the best obeah man. The two bays Runaway and Discovery got there names because, Runaway was where the slaves ran away too and Discovery was where they found. I not sure how true these are, because you may hear a different version depending on who you talk too, you’ll have to make your own mind up, whom or what you believe.

At 1:30pm we walked to Daliston Square, on the way we stopped to say “hello, good afternoon”, to a couple of Jackie’s friends and people who were sitting in the shade of the houses, working on their land or homes or walking to and from town. As we passed some children who were playing in the church grounds, one little boy bemused by us called his friends and said,
“Look one white man and one white woman,” whist pointing and laughing.
I guess we stood out because of our colour and clothes, also we were strangers and they knew it. JA is a place where everyone, knows everyone else, almost anyone living in the district could tell you that Mr or Miss so and so lives there and tell you something of their background, which became apparent to us after a few days because locals would say of us, “they are from England and staying with Sharon.”

A majority of the people are very warm, friendly, welcoming, they speak very softly and slowly, so we had to listen carefully. Life here moves at a leisurely pace, no one seems to be in a hurry, which was just as well, you may sit in a taxi or on a bus for 15 or 20mins while they wait for other passengers, in fact they were the only things that moved at speed once loaded. Which meant if you were walking, you have to be very alert, with no footpaths and the potholes, uneven ground, blind bends, the odd bits of gully, trucks, mini-buses and cars to avoid; you may have to step into roughage, get very close to a wall or wait on someone’s drive until they passed.

At Daliston I felt we had began to taste and experience JA, there were supermarkets, a police station, a post office, hawkers, selling and roasting breadfruit on car wheel rims, fruiterers, sellers of phone cards, cotton, jelly coconuts, taxi drivers were tooting, shouting there destination “Sav, Bethel Town” and number of spaces left (“two fi go”), local people shopping, talking, working or looking for work. Crécy brought some lovely sliced pineapple and gave the man $500 and walked away; he called her back for her change, because it was only $50.

We waited for a while, as Sharon looked for a taxi driver she knew or a car that looked reasonably road worthy. When one arrived, the four of us squeezed in the back, because he already had a passenger in the front. As we drove along he named and pointed out the different churches, as he spoke it became apparent that Devon (the drivers name) was a born again Christian. He spoke about the Lord Jesus Christ with the excitement and passion of a new believer; he was telling that we needed to turn to the Lord, it was the best thing for us; until I told him I was a minister, then he shared with us his testimony,

“I was a bad boy and all I lived for was sex and money, I thought I had to have sex every couple of days or I would die. Other than sex and money the only thing that ever worried me, was where I would go when I died, so I started reading my bible, the bible says there are two places people go when they die, heaven or hell, and I know I didn’t want to go to hell, but I knew it was the place reserved for people like me. As I read on, I discovered that Jesus died so men like me could be forgiven and escape the eternal punishment of hell. Wanting to know more, I started going to church, there I questioned the pastor and elders about what I discovered and they confirmed that is was all true. So I decided to follow the bibles instructions and accept Jesus as my Lord and Saviour, so I turned my back on my old way of life. I haven’t had sex for 8 months and it doesn’t bother me, because I am trusting in God and obeying His word and I never miss Church on Sunday for anything else, its always church first. I know He knows I would love a wife and I am sure He has one for me; I know, she will be Ms Right, because God only gives us the best and what is good for us. You see sir, serving Jesus is the only thing to do, because he will always bless you.”
We (Crécy and I) were encouraged to hear his testimony and promised to pray for him, which we have done and will continue to do.

When he dropped us off in centre of Savanna-La-Mar (Sav), it was at the end of the school shift, the children only attend school for part of the day; the schools have two or three shifts and two or three different coloured uniforms that are related to the shifts. I wasn’t sure who had finished school and who were just starting.

In Sav we did some window shopping and stopped at Tastee’s for lunch. We had patties in coco-bread, with sweet potato pudding and coconut water (a must have). When refreshed, we crossed the road and brought some groceries at the D & Y supermarket, at the checkout young-men packed your shopping with great care and carried it too the car or taxi or in our case to the taxi rank, were we got a route taxi back to Daliston. Route taxis can only run between points A and B as licensed, if they go beyond these points, they run the risk of being stopped by the police and would have to pay a fine, I was told the police take all the money they have on them. All JA taxis are route taxis and most of them have there route written on the side of the car so you know where they were going.

At Daliston, Jackie whizzed around the shops picking up one of two items ordered earlier in the day, while we waited for a taxi back to Hopewell. We spent the rest of the evening watching television and making notes of the days events.

Jamaica Smooth Runnings

We rose early this morning (1st July), because we were too excited about our first trip to Jamaica, just like the parents and children in the Disney ad. It was a trip I had dreamt about, but never quite made for one reason or another, and this was the closest I had ever got to going. With bags, passports, etc, checked and packed, we left for the airport in good time, there were no holdups, so it was just open roads all the way through to the airport car park. We found the APH Car-park with ease and took the coach to the north terminal as planned.

On our arrival at the north terminal we negotiated our way to the Thompson Fly check-in desk. After waiting in line for a few moments, it was our turn to check-in.
“Tickets and passports please” said the voice from behind the desk.
I turned to Crécy and Jackie and said, “Tickets and passports,” interrupting their natter.
I gave the lady my passport and turned to see Crécy franticly searching through her handbag,
Saying, “I am sure I put it in here?” Questioning herself,
“Look again” I said,
She looked and replied, “no its not there”.
My mind was doing summersaults at this point and panic began to set in. As the lady behind the counter sat and watched, commenting occasional “can’t you find it? Have you forgotten it?”
I made a quick search of Crecy’s hand bag, passed it back to her and began searching our luggage, at this point we discussed the possibility going home and returning before the flight, it was now 8:13am and it was 9:30am flight, so that was out of the question, I thought it was all over, the only option was to return home, in the mean time Jackie made a more thorough search than both of us of her handbag and said,
“What is this here?” Showing us an internal pocket,
“Ah that’s it”, said Crécy, “I knew I had put in my bag”.
As she pulled it from her bag you could see the relief on all faces as we realised our holiday was back on, but inside our hearts were still racing.

We collected our boarding passes and made our way though passport control and on to the security screening, as Crécy went though you guessed it, the alarms went off as usual, this is a normal occurrence with her and airport security checks, after removing her belt etc, she was cleared to continue, so I went through into the departure longue and waited for them. A minute or two later I turned to see where they were; only to see they had to go through a second screening system, this time removing their footwear so it could be screened as well, which I some how missed. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever make this trip, but to my surprise the rest of the journey ran smoothly.

On the plane we were given an immigration card to fill out, which had to be presented at Montego Bay Airport (Mo-Bay) for entry into Jamaica (JA). At the airport it became apparent we hadn’t filled them out correctly, so whilst standing in very long queue we completed them. After a short interview or interrogation, depending on your view of their questioning: “How long are you here for? Is this your first visit? Where are you staying? What is the address? Who is responsible for you? She welcomed us to Jamaica and hoped we would enjoy our holiday.” As Crécy and Jackie under went the same interview, a young lad at the next booth who was just 15 was being refused entry because he was travelling alone and had know idea of the address where he’d be staying, or letter with his parents permission. I glad to say we got through with out a hitch.

We exited the airport building into the sweltering heat and sea of people: taxi drivers, red-caps (porters), nationals, visitors, security and police. Our eyes searched for our host, Sharon, Jackie’s sister, who appeared from among the crowd and said, “Hi” and then called our driver from her mobile, whist walking towards the loading bay, we followed dragging our luggage. At the loading bays allsorts of vehicles stopped briefly to collect passengers and their luggage. Our vehicle was an open back pick up truck, so we threw our luggage in the back and the six of us plied into the cab area and headed for Hopewell. I soon discovered the ratchet of the front passenger seat was broken, so I needed to hold on to the dashboard or the front of the seat in order not to crush the person behind me.

As we drove along the road, I was struck by the number of potholes of various sizes and hawkers selling: bottled water, fruit, newspapers, mobile phone chargers, phone cards, etc, in the middle of the road, school children looking very smart in their colourful uniforms, flagging down cars, taxis and buses for a lift home and our driver carefully negotiating all these obstacles. Along the roadside there were wooden shacks - which were shops and some very amusing road signs: Drive, Ride and Walk good, arrive alive don’t drink and drive, speed kills! don’t be in a hurry to enter eternity and want to spend time with your family! slow down. Roy our driver told us the names of different areas we we’re driving through and asked about our visit

An hour or so later we arrived at the MacFarlane Mansion safely, a beautiful house set in the hillside. Jackie gave us a grand tour of the house and introduce us to all the family and afterwards pointed us in the direction of our bedroom, which was about 18 x 24 feet. We relaxed on the veranda for a while, after which Jackie took us to meet the local shopkeeper and purchase some drinks and she took us up to her house to meet one of Jackie’s old school teachers, who was visiting from the States. From there we walked up the hill to meet Jackie’s sister Mamma aka Beryl or Veron, who was having some building work done, on the way we meet a young lady called Gay. Mamma wasn’t in so we returned to the Macfarlane home, un-packed, had dinner and sat on the veranda for the rest of the evening watching the sunset.

Rachel

We welcome the new addition to our family baby Rachel, weighting 6lbs 8oz. born on 15th June, with a full head of hair and one tooth, the spiting image of her now big brother, she is just adorable. On a current visit the Campbells and extened family posed for pictures with Rachel, she never made a fuss, but took it all graciously in her stride. Even during their vist to the town centre she kept smiling even though her grand-dad wasn't very good at pushing the pram. Her big brother watches over her very carefully and will order you to be quite and gentle with the baby, here is a picture of his scary look.