May 28-June 4, 1999
Greetings, all. We have just returned from our second annual trip to Grand Lido Braco. Last year, I wrote about some things that the resort needed to work on, specifically, customer service and the wine/liquor selection. Well, they must read the stuff posted all over the net, because the service has improved greatly over last years visit. The grand prize for most improved department goes to the watersports guys. The whole lot must have been replaced because this year they were actually friendly and helpful. The bars still don’t carry Myers JAMAICAN Dark Rum and while the wine did improve, its’ still not very good. But more on that later.
I just finished reading Mike & Sara’s 4/99 report and it’s pretty detailed about what the resort looks like, how it’s laid out and other pertinent and useful information and I’m not going to try to add to it because they have it down pretty good. I figured I’d tell you my perspective about what goes on, or at least what we found happening at the resort while we were there. Yep, it’s going to be one of those "What I did on my Summer Vacation" essays like you see in the Hedo trip reports all the time. Hey, I confess, I like to read them. However, this one won’t be anywhere near as ‘titillating’ as those. So hear goes...
We talked another couple from our area into going with us this year. They had been to GL Negril twice and were interested to see how Braco would compare (maybe I can talk him into a comparison trip report). The flight down was routine and we arrived in MBJ on time and to a chorus of Jamaican ladies singing welcome to Jamaica. Since we anticipated the wine to suck we brought three bottles of Chardonnay and three bottles of Champagne with us. While filling out the Jamaican customs card I noticed that each person was allowed to bring in one 750ml bottle of spirits. Hmmm, wonder if Jamaican Customs will search us. Yea, Right. They could care less. So on to the Superclubs desk to catch our chariot to Braco. After waiting with a few cold Red Stripes, we were off in a fairly large bus (at least bigger than last year) with a working a/c. Here’s a travel tip. Ride up front with the driver. I sat right next to him with the rest of our entourage right behind him. That way, if he hits something head on you won’t suffer…nah, just kidding. It was interesting to talk to him and he would point out various landmarks, sites and homes and give background information that people in the back of the bus couldn’t hear. I also learned that our driver lived near Ocho Rios and has been driving that same stretch of country road for 18 years…without an accident (at least that’s what he said). I was impressed, and feeling no pain, so I slipped him $10 for not ruining his record with us on board.
We pull into the pearly gates of Braco, man, it’s good to be back. We enjoy champagne and cold towels while we see if that fax I had my travel agent send yesterday worked. Upgrade to a suite, ok, king size bed, yep, third floor room, man we’re cookin’ with fire, second building next to clubhouse, damn it. Maybe next time. We drew the first building on the A/N side again. In fact, our room, #3021, is right next door to the room we had last year. Oh well, let the fun begin. Rooms aren’t ready so they say go have lunch. Don’t have to tell me twice. I can smell the jerk pork from here. Our friends comment that Nanny’s Jerk Pit is a pretty cool place that GL Negril doesn’t have, and the food is good too. So with a belly full of rice and beans, we head to our rooms and unpack. Another travelers tip. Last year we over packed. This year we packed half as much and still over packed. You’ve heard this before, but it’s true. Pack your bags then take half of it out, no, take ¾ of it out. If you’re on the A/N side you don’t need a week’s worth of clothes anyway! With the bags unpacked, I have about two hours before I have to get ready for the Friday Night Street Party. Just enough time to hit the pool bar while the wife takes a power nap. As expected, it’s cheek to cheek and happy hour is going on. I get someone to buy me a beer and start mingling with new friends we will hang out with for the next seven days.
We hit the street party about 30 minutes after the food starts and wind our way through the multitude of selections. There is, of course, more choices than any one person could eat including alot of traditional Jamaican dishes. The salt fish was just that, salty, but it was good. The Gunga pea soup was tasty, and my favorite, the spicy hot jumbo shrimp was delicious. We also partook of the assortment of baked breads and fresh salads. The desert table doesn’t hold up well in the heat, but that didn’t stop the masses from pillaging the treats that were offered. By the time I finished my main meal, most of what I was looking for (read chocolate) was gone. I did manage to find some chocolate chip cookies, not as good as my homemade ones, but tasty non-the-less. We also managed to find a Chilean Chardonnay and Cabernet that turned out to be our favorite wines of our stay. Much better than the simple French Sauvignon Blanc and watery Vin Rouge that seemed to be in all the wine baskets, and a vast improvement over what was served last year.
After dinner, the music cranks up and the social directors begin tabbing volunteers for a long conga line that snakes through the village circle. Next up is an impromptu dance contest to crown the "King and Queen" of dance. Again the social directors drag volunteers up to the raised sidewalk in front of the Courthouse. The females are first up and are shown this dance step which they are to perform, similar to a line dance type of thing with a Caribbean flare. A pretty young thing from Canada wins with the applause from what seems to be a large crowd she is traveling with. Next up are the men. My friend and I are quickly corralled and hauled up to the stage along with about ten other unsuspecting males. We are shown the same dance and are then left to strut our stuff. This group is then whittled down to four, myself, my friend, and two younger guys. My friend, sensing that we don’t have a chance unless we show some skin, suggests we get rid of our shirts. Bad move, we two middle aged guys (and not in bad shape, I might add) didn’t stand a chance when the other two young studs also dispensed with their shirts. The winner turned out to be the husband of the young thing who won Queen, with that same loud group cheering them on. Feeling as if we had been jilted, we all retired to the A/N hot tub to drown our sorrows. Tomorrow is another day.
Ahhhh, room service breakfast, on the balcony, in the buff. Nothing better to sooth a mild hangover than a cup of good ol’ strong Jamaican coffee. It worked so well, we actually went to work out that morning at the gym. Plenty of Cybex eq, two stationary bikes and three treadmills (although the middle one wasn’t working) and that gorgeous view of the Caribbean Sea. If I had that view every time I worked out, I might look like Arnold Schwartznager. With our workout complete, we head to the beach to secure our cabana for the week. After a full day/night on Friday, it was time to ease on into "Island Time" and we had no trouble adjusting. This year, there were more people on the beach, at least during the morning hours, than there were last year. I’d say there were about 20-25 people this year as opposed to about 10-15 last year. Still pretty deserted, but hey, we like it like that. Being old pro’s at this a/n stuff now, the wife and I quickly slid out of our suits, lathered up with spf 15 and began our daily ritual of worshiping the Jamaican sun. We had worked up quite an appetite after laying around for two or three hours drinking pina coladas and dirty banana’s so we had to decide where we wanted to each lunch. Decisions, decisions. La Pasta wins out, so we suit back up and head on over. Another travelers tip; Always wear some type of shoes or flops when you walk around the town square as there were quite a bit of extremely small broken glass shards on the walkways. And while we were eating there someone dropped a glass that disintegrated into a gazillion pieces. They don’t sweep or vacuum up the glass as one would expect, instead they try to pick up all the pieces by hand and they never can get all of the small ones.
Back to La Pasta. I had not tried the pasta last year and did not want to miss out this year. We dished ourselves some fresh salad and ordered a couple of glasses of the Chilean Chardonnay while the entre’s were prepared. I ordered a 3 (or maybe it was 4) cheese pasta dish and my wife had a pasta primavera dish. Both were excellent. This is definitely not the frozen variety that the Olive Garden serves. After lunch, it was back to the beach for a while then over to the pool bar for the late afternoon "Happy Hour". Clouds began to roll in from the northeast late in the afternoon and chased a few of us to the small hot tub, but it never did rain. There we enjoyed one of our bottles of Champagne we had smuggled into the country. The weather was like this almost every day, it would turn a bit cloudy in the afternoon, then the clouds would move over the mountains and thunder could be heard in the distance. If I had to guess, I would bet those folks in Negril were getting hammered with rain every day about 3 or 4 o’clock.
Dinner was at Victoria’s Market Saturday night. There were a number of delicious sounding choices with seafood the most prevalent. The wine lady didn’t normally carry the Chilean Chardonnay in her basket so we had to suffer through the French stuff. After dinner, the house band warmed things up and then a Jamaican Lady came out and did a truly wonderful set that got the crowd going. It was a good show and I now regret that we didn’t see any of them last year. So off to the clubhouse to get our cheap bottle of champagne for tomorrow mornings mimosa’s.
Our room service breakfast arrived on time and was accurate as to what we ordered. We enjoyed a beautiful, sunny Sunday morning as we sipped our cheap champagne mimosa’s and ate fresh fruit, baked muffins and croissants on the balcony. I could get used to this (come on, Fla. lottery)! Time to lather up and head to the beach. We secure or regular cabana on the beach and begin listening to Buffet and reading our books. At 10:30, (her appointed hour) I am summoned to fetch a dirty banana for my wife. Yes, your highness. She didn’t wear a watch but she somehow managed to request her dirty banana at precisely 10:30 every day. Then at 1:00, she would get hungry. Women’s intuition? Who knows! Who cares! Time to go to Nanny’s. Nothing better than Nanny’s jerk pork and beans and rice. After lunch, my wife had made her an appointment to get a ½ hour massage on the A/N beach. They set up a massage table under the shade trees near the beginning of the A/N beach. You may wear a swimsuit bottom if you like, or you can chose au natural. My wife chose to be naked and she was discreetly covered with a sheet while she melted away under the skilled hands of the masseuse. Afterward, she wandered up to the pool bar where I had been stationed and proclaimed that I had been replaced! She enjoyed it so much she booked a second round for later in the week.
Later that afternoon, we were invited to the "Castaway’s Travel" party for drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Jim and Champagne had brought a large group down (at considerably less than what we paid, I might add!) and the resort set up a nice spread including fried shrimp on a stick and these mini Beef Wellington things that were really good. I had heard of Castaway’s Travel before from the internet, but it was nice to actually meet the owners of the company.
Dinner again was at VM and was as delicious as last night. After Showtime, we headed over to the piano bar. The piano player wasn’t there yet, so our friend, who is an accomplished jazz pianist, sat in. Pretty soon, we had our own sing-a-long with a large group of guests gathered around the piano singing songs from books the resort had printed up. Eventually, the regular keyboard player showed up and was quite impressed with the crowd. Our friend offered up his bench, but the regular piano player enthusiastically told him to carry on. They both wound up playing a few songs together, which was pretty neat. We had worked ourselves into a tumultuous uproar, and we were awful tired, so we retreated to the hottub for the night.
Monday was more of the same, room service breakfast, veg on the beach, lunch at Nanny’s, then veg some more on the beach. Cynthia, the "Fruit Lady" came by today and offered us fresh pineapple. I also had the chance to teach her two new verses that I made up to "Don’t Let No One Steal Your Joy", a song she taught me last year. She was suitably impressed, ask her to sing it to you when you are there. Dinner tonight is at Piacere. Some people complain that it takes too long to eat here. Well, I don’t know about you folks, but when we go out to eat at a nice restaurant, a two hour meal is the norm. We like to dress up, be waited on hand and foot and enjoy the food, wine and conversation without being on a timetable. The service at Piacere is outstanding and while the food is not on the level of some of the more famous (and pricey) establishments I have been to, it is still very good. Presentation of the food is excellent. These guys can make a PB&J look like a gourmet dinner. The wine list also offers better selections than you will find served throughout the rest of the resort. They even had Port to go with my chocolate dessert! It wasn’t Vintage Port, but hey, it wasn’t bad either. Our friends thought this restaurant was on par with GLN’s version.
Tuesday morning, the skies to the east were ominously cloudy. I asked one of the gardeners whether he thought it was going to rain, he replied, "No Mon, only in de Mountains". He was right, it never did rain but the wind really blew that day. It basically chased everyone to the pool, just in time to hear Carl ("Mr. Muscles") conduct Jamaican chat at the pool bar. Carl is a tall, thin man so where he got "Mr. Muscles" from, probably Renard. You should take the time to attend this lesson in "Jamaican speak", as Carl (and last year-Renard) enjoy trying to stump us "Ugly Americans" with what they are trying to say. I’d say about 75% of the time we could figure out what he was saying but only when he spoke slowly. When he sped up, my "Southern" ears were quickly overwhelmed.
Lunch was at La Pasta for some delicious pizza’s and Vin Rouge (which actually complimented the pizza’s quite well). After lunch, it was back to the pool for body painting. We somehow missed this last year so we wanted to make sure we participated this time. About 6 or 7 couples gathered around the paint tables, with the males doing the painting on their significant others’ "canvas". I must admit, there were some very talented artists in our group. There was a painted on swimsuit, a "Wonder Woman", a pair of large pink hibiscus flowers (that you see all over the grounds) painted on a pair of equally large breasts, more flowers with lots of vines and a ferocious looking feline that I masterfully crafted upon my lovely wife. There wasn’t a contest or anything associated with this event, so after a few pictures we just went up to the room to smear it all over ourselves. That was fun, too.
Dinner was at Muna Hana’s. We had arrived a bit early and were sitting inside waiting on our friends when another couple showed up with the gentleman wearing dress shorts, albeit, nice dress shorts. However, a policy is a policy, and he was sent off to his room to change into long pants. Our friends arrive, and we are seated in front of a hibachi grill where our Japanese Jamaican chef will prepare our meal. While he was not near as speedy at dicing and slicing as the real ones in the States, we was more than competent at preparing the chicken, steak and seafood dinners that we would enjoy. One other note, we were not served sushi as an appetizer as we were last year. They have created a Sushi Bar up front now, which unbeknownst to me requires a separate reservation. Oh well, maybe next year. After dinner, we hit the Market for "Showtime" for a little music and dancing. A German couple had arrived earlier that day and the only reason I mention this, is what she was wearing on the dance floor. Wrapped around her waist was a pink "skirt" which was actually a see through veil, with nothing on underneath. I tried to talk my wife into wearing something like that the next night, but to no avail.
Wednesday morning we tried the bagels and smoked salmon for room service breakfast. Not one of my favorites. I’m not a salmon aficionado, but this fish was too chewy for my taste. But the bagels, baked goods and fresh fruit more than fulfilled our hunger. We had signed up for the snorkeling trip this morning and just as soon as we boarded the boat, the wind picks up. The Captain somehow manages to coax this big wooden boat out through the small opening in the breakwater without holing it and then it’s out on the Caribbean Sea. We begin a rockin’ and rollin’, surfing 4 to 5 foot seas as we head west down the coastline about a mile or so and anchor in crystal clear water about 20 feet deep. You’ve heard how beautiful it is snorkeling right off the nude beach, right? Well this was ten times better. The color and beauty was amazing. I highly recommend this trip. Lots more corral than at the nude beach, but not a lot of fish. Maybe it had something to do with the wind. One of the watersports guys who accompanied us would take your waterproof camera and free dive down to the bottom to take pictures for you. This guy could hold his breath for at least 5 minutes, it was amazing. The best anyone in our group could do was 30 or 40 seconds. After about 45 minutes we load up in the boat and beat back into the wind and seas for another 30 minutes to get back to the resort. There was a couple from Chicago who went with us but never did get to snorkel as the girl had become seasick, and they were getting married latter than day! I’ve never seen anyone so happy to get back on dry land.
Once back on the A/N side, we decided not to get dressed again and just had lunch at the beach grill. Karen, the A/N beach grill chef, whipped up some mouthwatering lamp chops for my wife and a cheeseburger for myself. Both were very satisfying and the fries were excellent also. The wind continued to blow during the afternoon, which made trying to read a book or sip a drink rather difficult, so I head to the pool bar while wife goes to take a nap. (Tuesday and Wednesday were actually the only days where the wind did make it uncomfortable to be on the beach. The other days the wind did not bother us.) Later that afternoon, the wind died down and we decided to toast the sunset with the two remaining bottles of contraband champagne. Low clouds were hugging the horizon and we never did get to see the sun melt into the water but we did enjoy a couple of tunes from a roving sax player. Now I ask you, what could be better than laying naked on a beach, sipping fine champagne while being serenaded by a gentleman playing the saxophone?
Wed. Night is the Beach party. The tables, chairs and food stations are all moved out on the prude beach to dine by torches under the stars. The food is similar to the Friday Night Street Dance but the entertainment is what makes this party. The guests are treated to authentic Jamaican dancers, limbo exhibitions, drummers, fire breathing contortionists, and a father and son acrobatic team. The entertainers were all quite talented and the show was very entertaining, sorry I missed it last year.
Thursday, our last full day. Bummer. Room service breakfast, of course, then I take off for a run around the property while my wife works out on the treadmill. I can now attest, that this place is pretty big. The gardens are, as always, beautiful, I say hello to Cynthia as she is walking in to go to work, the golf course was in nice shape, with only a couple of greens needing attention (and nobody playing on it), and hey, did you know they have rooms where people who wear clothes can stay! After our workout we hit the beach for the morning (yes the wind laid down today). For lunch we had to go to Nanny’s one last time. I had something similar to a meat pie pastry. Man, that thing was good. There was quite a buzz going on around the town square today. A couple of helicopters had flown in this morning and it was rumored than a Saudi prince and his entourage had arrived. I couldn’t confirm that, though my wife was hard on the look out. There was some sort of International Bobsled Convention also visiting for the day, although we never did see anyone that looked like the Jamaican Bobsled Team. Later that afternoon, we attended our first Returnees Cocktail Party where I got to bitch about the wine and the lack of Myers Rum. Management gave the obligatory answers of "we will definitely look into that", but hey, the food was good, the drinks were cold, only it was oppressively hot upstairs above the main bar so we didn’t hang around long.
We had dinner at VM then it was off to get ready for the "Bare as You Dare" Pajama Party. I had purchased a shear leopard print babydoll/g-string for my wife and I chose to go formal complete with bow tie, cuffs and a g-string tuxedo with tails in the back. We thought we winners for sure! There were lots more people there this year and the competition looked tough. There was plenty of sheer/lacy things, leather with strategic cut outs (worn by that German lady, of course), a lady with Hibiscus flowers glued to her boobs, and one lady who must have just finished dinner as all she had on were two cloth napkins tied around her waist and a shoe lace with two spoons tied on the ends around her neck barely covering her nipples. The men wore mainly boxers with a few g-strings, a leather thong and a large group of (what looked like) college kids who showed up in togas. Competition time. Renard, Carl and Kari, the social directors comb the audience and pick six males, including myself, my friend, the guy in the leather thong, a couple others and one of the toga stud muffins. This year, the winners are picked by who gets the loudest applause/crowd noise and as usual, the college crowd out yelled everyone. Next up were the females. My wife, of course, was picked, Champagne from Castaways Travel, the German girl (but she refused to participate, something about having her picture taken), a girl dressed in a red strippers type outfit, the lady with the spoons and one of the college girls, dressed in a see-thru babydoll but wearing a swimsuit underneath. As you might have guessed, the college crowd enabled their girl to capture first prize. Feeling middle aged, cheated and dejected we retired to the hottub to drown our sorrows.
We wake up Friday morning to find our eviction notice on the floor, eat our last room service breakfast and walk around the A/N side one last time using up what film we had left. Check out was painless and soon our bus arrives to take us away from paradise. As I now sit here at my computer, finishing up this rather long winded report, I am longing to get back already and it’s only been a month. It’s going to be a long year...
Some random thoughts and info;
Denton was out sick for about five days during our stay. Must have been the flu or something like that. Sure did miss him at the A/N Bar.
The Captain of the MY Zein was at Braco for a few days while the Zein was being hauled out in Montego Bay.
My wife had two massages and our friends also had two, they are highly recommended.
Miller Light replaced Heineken as the "other" beer available. The wine on average was much better than last year, but the champagne still sucked. Food hasn’t changed, it’s still excellent. Service was also much better this year than last.
Go to Showtime, the house band and the local talent are all very good.
It only rained (actually sprinkled) one day for about 20 minutes the week we were there. It did get too windy for the beach on two days. Other days it was fine. We had sun every day. And I still think those people in Negril got drenched every afternoon.
Four phone calls to the US = $80. The calls were anywhere from $2.00-$2.50/minute using AT&T calling card. I don’t know what other options you may have, but I would explore them if I were you.
That’s all for now. Gotta go make money for next year’s trip...
Biloxi, MS