Jamaica Jamaica

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Jamaica Jamaica

Yes I do want to move here too if someone would give me a job please... Kingston is crazy but cool - just walking to the local supermarket was a hair-raising experience, and within 20 seconds of leaving my guesthouse to walk to the Bob Marley museum I had an offer of a date from a young boy on a scooter delivering chinese takeout. I don't know why teenage boys seem to think I am a worthy crack on this trip and I suppose it should be flattering, but really why on earth am I attracting the advances of pubescent males and not adult ones??

Anyway, moving on, my next stop was the other end of the island to Treasure Beach. complete contrast to Kingston in every sense, this laidback rural outpost is everything you want from Jamaica with none of the hassle. The locals are also arrestingly mesmerising to look at – many people here have light skin and green eyes, freckles etc – a beautiful mix. On the roadside yesterday I passed a bonafide redhaired, sunburnt, Glaswegian drunkard stumbling along the road, but as I cycled past he was engaged in indecipherable patois. He was a ginger jamaican. The story behind this is that years ago a ship with scottish sailors wrecked here and the sailors decided to forget bonny Scotland and settle here (unsurprisingly...). And so the descendents are a veritable melting pot of various complexions.

I just got back from the beach where I watched the sunset chatting to a local rasta with a blonde beard and freckles, and saw two dogs get stuck together whilst they were having sex. It was very strange. But the rasta dude told me he sees them do it all the time.

I got a lift direct to Kingston at 1am this morning with some people I met. I was paying them for the privilege. And my worst nightmare came true – I couldn't get any money out on the way to the airport, and the cambio office was shut when we got there – so I couldn't pay them!!! ARGH!!! They were friendly locals too who had driven me all the way in their own car, not a taxi, so the guilt was monumental. They must have thought I was the biggest scammer out. Anyway I hope to god my money transfer goes through as that was all I could promise them. Poor gits. They had no petrol and had a 3 hour drive back to Treasure Beach at 4am and it was costing them out of their own pocket. Retribution stood in though as my 6.30am Air Jamaica flight was cancelled so I had to wait til 12.55pm for the next one. And now I just had the once/twice/four times over from US customs at Miami airport, the gits. They really tried to make a scene about my PG Tips tea bags being some highly illegal substance. Idiots.

One amazing discovery I made in Jamaica was Devon stout icecream. It really did taste like stout, and really did taste good as icecream. Yes man!

New Orleans/Chazfest

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well my prediction of continual and persistent imbibement in New Orleans was completely correct. I have had the most amazing luck so far – Bob's friend Chris totally sorted me out and I had the most wonderful time in New Orleans. I LOVE THIS CITY!!!! I got there 3 hours late, at around 6pm, and Chris picked me from the station and took me back to his amazing house in the Garden District. Later that night I met him down a little street called Pirates Alley. I was highly excited to find out that the cafe/absinthe house there has its own pirates club, and even does pirate weddings. When I saw that it was the first time I have ever had the pang to get married. But luckily it passed quite quickly.

From here we headed onto another absinthe house called Pravda, as I had forgotten to bring out my passport and they actually ID-ed me in Pirates Alley and then wouldn't serve me. Unbelievable. Real pirates would never have stood for it. After Pravda we headed elsewhere in the Fench Quarter to a great little bar on Frenchman where there was a live jazz jam. Here I met Washboard Chaz (complete with washboard round his neck) and another local favourite, Uncle Lionel. Chris and I sat around at the bar sinking Jack Daniels' and lapping up the great music.

The next day we left the house around 1pm on bikes, and Chris gave me a tour of New Orleans by bike. It was amazing. Then we tracked down Chazfest, a small budget alternative to the more famous Jazzfest, organised by no other than Washboard Chaz. It was in a collective of gardens off a street in the Bywater district, and it was pure bliss. I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven. It was really lowkey, amazing jazz and blues musicians playing, it had the air of an english country fayre/Mayday thing going on, and the homemade margaritas and sangria stalls were dishing up the goods brilliantly. Washboard Chaz got up and jammed with each band, and everyone was having a merry hoedown. One band sticks out for being utterly brilliant – Loose Marbles. Chris had by this time gone back to work at his refined cocktail bar, and I realised I needed to leave Chazfest before it got dark so as to reduce the chance of getting my bike stuck in tramlines or hitting a pedestrian at high speed. Amazingly I was drunk again, and how I rode the bike without colliding with anything, and also wound my way through the streets of the city to find his bar, I shall never know.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I found it, and after Chris's shift finished we hit another jazz gig and lo and behold, it was Uncle Lionel playing. It was such a brilliant day/night and to top it off we managed to bribe a jazz dude to give us and the bikes a lift home in the back of his van. Well Chris did – I just stood around looking drunk.

The bus journey down to Miami was less interesting and more tedious than the previous trips this week, but I am here now and loitering in Starbucks whilst I wait to check into my hostel. The woman at reception told me to take my woolly cardigan off as just looking at me made her feel hot. I have been wearing the same clothes for the last 3 days though so am reluctant to take anything off without being able to shower as I know I have collected a unique layer of scents from the last few days. She doesn't realise how merciful I was being by keeping it on. I am still reeling from such a huge dose of fun in Memphis/New Orleans. Sometimes you just take a chance and it all comes off, perfectly in every sense. And all I have to do now is hang around til tomorrow AM to ge my flight to Jamaica. I think I can do that....