By Fyllis Hockman
I was delighted when my husband and I received Betty's invitation for a picnic lunch at the Sunset at the Palms Resort in Negril, Jamaica. The setting was lush, the food and wine enticing. Conversation, though, was a tad strained. But then her recent history was a bit dicey. Recently married, rumor has it Betty had been kids already, and it was hard for her to attend to them and also focus on her guests. Still she was already back at work maintaining the grounds.
Betty is a very resilient goat. And she's one of Sunset's favorite staff members.
Sunset is an airy, compact oasis in the middle of a jungle, wood-filled and woodsy, the abundant foliage making the transition from outside to inside seamless. So different from the many large, bustling, antiseptic resorts often lining Caribbean beaches. Here you're a part of Jamaica, mon!
The beach was a short walk away and free of the seaweed that sometimes plagues Caribbean shores. Spotting a red flag usually indicates a warning sign of some kind. Here, placed in front of your chaise longue, it simply means "Please bring me another pina colada"
Tranquil was a word I heard a lot. Maybe because the all-inclusive resort is for adults only — except for Betty's kids, of course, and they're not likely to be running down the halls. And as appealing as reggae music is in the Caribbean, it is often ear-splitting along the beaches and the bars. Here, it is actually mellow — if you can imagine mellow reggae.
The resort comes by its name honestly. All the rooms resemble palm-fringed treehouses. The hammock on our tree-topped balcony was just a bonus. One morning I was awakened by an unaccustomed sound only to find, Betty, husband Royal Brown and kids bleating greetings below our balcony.
Sunset is all about service. Everyone sports a badge saying, "I am your personal concierge," which I initially mistook for — well — the actual concierge. Taking the pampering of guests to an extreme, a crossing guard ushers you across the street to the beach. Admittedly I felt like I was in grade school again and petulantly assured the poor guard that I had been crossing the street by myself for decades without mishap.
Like every all-inclusive, there are a number of restaurant options, but how often do you go to a restaurant with no menu in sight? Welcome to the Chef's Showcase, where every night is a surprise — a five-course meal in a candlelit setting that sparkles with class and romance. But be prepared — it's a while between courses. This is island time, the precision timepiece upon which Jamaica runs. A local was heard to remark at a bar one afternoon that he'd be ready in three minutes. He then added: "That's six minutes in Jamaican."
Just sitting at the bar is an island experience in itself. Locals instinctively move to the music as if they were on a dance floor. And not just any dance floor but one in the middle of a dance contest. And perhaps not without some embellishment. Everywhere on the island there is that unmistakable whiff of the ubiquitous substance for which the island is so famous — and now small amounts are actually legal.
Three things for which Jamaica is famous are Dunn's River Falls in Ocho Rios, the aforementioned ganja and Rick's Cafe in Negril, where everyone at one time or another has to go to see the sunset. So go we did, despite the noise, the crowds, the commercialism and a sunset like many others (OK, so it was a pretty nice sunset), for which the masses erupt in applause.
A much more authentic experience happened on our Rasta Tour, where we met with Fire. To do that, we had to first climb a mountain — no exaggeration. To say it was worth it is also not an exaggeration, not only for the views and the excellent all-natural meal prepared by Fire but mainly for his story.
He's been living away from civilization for 33 years in a lean-to that doesn't even qualify as a hut. Long ago he felt a need to get away from his mainstream life and learn how to survive — literally — in the 21st century. He grows what he needs to live, espouses a simple, less stressful life living off Mother Earth and adopts the Rasta approach of kindness, simplicity and eschewing financial gains.
When he started grating coconut it sounded a lot like a reggae beat — which somehow seemed fitting. Life as a Rasta, says Fire, became much easier after Bob Marley. Though Fire lost me just a bit when he answered his smartphone, after which he acknowledged with a smile: "There goes my reputation." But technology is ubiquitous, even on top of a mountain.
A more typical outing was the trip to YS Falls and the Black River, one of the hotel tour options. YS Falls offers a multitude of ways to swing over, jump into, swim under and play in a wide variety of waterfalls. And if none of that appeals, the falls alone provide sufficient photo-ops.
As we left the resort kicking and screaming, our voices were overshadowed by the gentle bleating of the entire Royal Brown family, who all gathered below our balcony to say goodbye. A fitting exit, mon!
WHEN YOU GO
For more information: www.thepalmsjamaica.com
Fyllis Hockman is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.
Visitors to Negril, Jamaica, don't want to miss a sunset at Rick's Cafe. Photo courtesy of Fyllis Hockman.
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