HEDO - John's version We arrived at MoBay after getting up at 4 am and spending nine hours in small planes and large airports. We had to leave Lafayette in a small plane (Julie could not stand up without bumping her head) that actually had propellers, and go north to some place called Graceland. Then we wandered east for a while, and finally south to our tropical paradise destination.
We were offered illegal several times but I had heard stories about the Jamaican jails being the second worst in the world (next to the ones in Yemen) so I declined. I was more interested in identifying our internet hedo friends. Efficiently, I had printed out all pictures sent to me via e-mail. I did not see any of our friends at any of the airports but I did spot them all eventually at hedo.
We took the dreaded bus trip and I enjoyed it immensely. The country is beautiful and obviously very poor. The forty-mile trip took more than an hour and a half even though the driver earnestly sped up to about seventy whenever he had a clear road for a least a hundred feet. The road is extremely narrow and bumpy with the paving best described as wishful thinking. We passed about a hundred shacks advertising Red Stripe beer, conch shells, and fruit. The only place to park and shop at these places is the middle of the road. There is no other place to walk on the island so the road is used by pedestrians: humans, donkeys, cattle, goats, and mongoose. The mongoose and goats are pretty quick and thus hard to run over but our driver made a serious attempt on a couple of donkeys.
The bus is so wide that when we met another large vehicle we had to brush the trees on the left side of the road to clear to oncoming traffic. Our driver did this with great skill and grace. We passed the remains of three head-on collisions where other drivers had not been so skilled or lucky.
When we checked in our room was ready and we had no problems except we had to find it ourselves (ask for a map) and we had to wait until the next day to get a second room key and a safe key. We decided that most of the staff was stoned most of the time so everything takes an extra day. Since we were rarely in a hurry this was "no problem mon" most of the time.
Jamaica is especially beautiful to natives of dry lands who are not used to the riot of tropical foliage. Everything is dark green and is producing something edible, even when growing in the wild. I hated to be rude by staring at the local people but it was hard not to at times like when we saw graceful men and women walking along carrying packages on their heads or dancing without music in the middle of the road
We were determined to get the full Hedo effect and stay up until midnight but we went for a "nap" when they did their nightly closing of the pool at nine pm and the nap lasted until the next morning. We woke up early enough to call the tour desk to get a ride on the catamaran for the reef snorkeling trip. The snorkeling trip was great but remember to take some clothes because three hours of sun on your head and bouncing off the water will burn through any sunblock made. Also, take something to wear when climbing the cliffs because the locals do not like naked people climbing their cliffs (unless, of course, you are an attractive young woman, like anyplace else).
Julie got too much sun (either heat stroke or heat exhaustion) and tried to cool off by drinking strawberry daiquiris. She fainted beside the pool and I bribed the pool guys to help me carry her to the room where she recovered after sleeping for about thirty hours. If I had it to do over I would have insisted that the nurse take a look at her but at the time I did not know there was a nurse on staff.
We spent the rest of the week in the nude pool and hot tub, except for walks along the beach to visit our friend Joe Brown. Joe lives on the beach and has a thriving business selling wooden carvings and seashells. He loves to show women his garden because he says they make the garden grow better.
We also crashed William and Rana's wedding. Julie insisted that we go to the wedding so she could give them a list of reasons when the preacher got to the part :"Does anyone know any reason these people should not be married?". I went along so I could gag Julie if necessary.
Do not get upset if none of the scheduled activities happen. This is Jamaica so the activities director puts up the sign listing the days activities and then wanders off to get stoned for a while. (granted, most of the guests are too drunk to see a volley ball, let alone remember complicated rules like "hit it back!").
We saw a few couples "fooling around" in the pool, hot tub, and out on the point but due to latent prudism (not mine) we did not make a spectacle of ourselves.
The food at the main dining room was good to excellent with a good selection of local treats but I would recommend calling the tour desk each day to make reservations at Pastafari's. The food there is better and they have the only non-smoking area in the resort. (you have to wear shirt and shoes, though). The minimum clothing required in the main dining room is a g-string and many people were wearing only those.
We really enjoyed PJ night at the disco but it was too hot, smokey, and loud to spend any time inside so we sat outside and watched people go in to see their costumes. (e-mail us with financial arrangements if you do not want us to send your pictures to your parents) until next time at Hedo,
Hedo (from Julie's perspective)
John and I planned for months. John e-mailed all the people on the guest list and we sent and received photos via internet of many whom we expected to see while we were there. This was John's first trip to Jamaica, my second. so I had an idea of what to expect in Montego Bay, but the bus trip opened my eyes.
The view from the airplane as we landed was much like Louisiana's landscape, except for the hills. Hot, moist and green. Once on the ground we were besieged by taxi drivers and loiterers who wanted to sell us smoke (and any other substance our heart may desire). Being a baby boomer and having the fleeting notion that I may never get the opportunity again, I managed to bargain down to $30 from $50 for a $20 lid of MJ. I hid it safely in my purse with many guarantees that in Jamaica I would have "no problem, just don't try to take it home," he said. Then the trip began.
We had a full bus and the driver spoke not a word but played Jamaican rap very loudly on the radio, making conversation all but impossible. The trip was much like being held hostage by rebel ground forces in a covert war operation. Those of us who would have enjoyed a little conversation were forced to yell over the noise of the bus itself, as well as the "music," so little was said. Mostly we all sat wide-eyed and terrified as cars rushed at us from the wrong side of the two-lane highway.
Intricate planning was necessary to get us from the heart of Cajun territory to Montego Bay (one third world nation to another) necessitating our awakening at 4 a.m. that morning. It was 4 pm when the bus from hell arrived at Hedonism. We were wiped out and I had severe stress symptoms from the bus ride, but despite a shoulder that wouldn't relax and a tic in my right eye, I jumped directly into the hubbub by finding the bar and getting something (anything with rum was what I asked for) that was wonderful and cold and after two of those, or maybe three, I was ready to roll.
Don't remember much after check-in really. We spent most of the time at the nude pool. getting wind of the activities from other visitors. John kept looking at the photos of people who were to arrive (he had printed them out - in living color) and took them with him everywhere we went. John is the brain here, I, on the other hand, am merely the Queen of all I survey. I was glad that he did, because we might not have met people as easily otherwise. Naked people (couples) are generally standoffish, I discovered. At least the women generally, seem less than comfortable approaching or being approached.
Nothing of note happened the first night. Next day we took the catamaran trip. Crowded on a boat with about 150 others, we were among the first to disrobe. Most everybody else sat shyly in swimsuits until we were safely in the middle of the bay and the boat had stopped for snorkeling. Then it was sheer abandon, with the first of the drinks beginning to go to our heads even the most timid among us struck poses for the cameras of strangers. We brought one of those little underwater disposables and proposed the fun of matching underwater nude bodies to above water heads. Our film has yet to be developed. We sat serenely in the sun, confident that the 45 SPF lotion we had applied at 10 am would protect us. I argued heartily that adults with access to water and cover do not get heat stroke. We drank vast quantities of whatever they gave us, except for John who only drank water and lemonade. The boat returned at about 3 pm. We made our way to the pool afterwards, a dousing in fresh water was like baptism.
As the day wore on, I forgot to eat, but not to drink, we met and had a rollicking good time with one of the internet couples we had photos of. I don't remember why we had so much fun, but we did. Then I passed out and couldn't get up. Heat stroke. I remember vaguely being carried on a lounge chair up to the room. John tells me that I kept saying "Allah blesses you" to the several Jamaicans who carried me. He also says I did other things I don't remember (blessedly) and he therefore, forgives me for them. I deny it all.
The week passed rapidly and I distinguished myself by being the oldest person alive to enter a wet tee shirt contest. Everyone was awed by my tenacity, I am still having moments of shame over this. We attended a wedding, even though they tried to hide from us. I had a grand time prior to the wedding standing by the nude pool where the brides walk out) and lecturing everyone about the horrors of marriage and the fact that (and I really mean this) a place that calls itself Hedonism should NOT PERFORM WEDDINGS, divorces perhaps, but NO WEDDINGS! Anyway, when you think of it, why would anyone who wished to marry want to go to a place called "Hedonism?" It still perplexes me.
I virtually stopped drinking but we didn't forget to eat. We made a point of having reservations at Pastafari's most nights. We both gained at least ten pounds. Had a fine time and if we can ever pay off these Louisiana crooks the alleged "State income tax" they say we owe them, we're going back. We may seek asylum there soon.