Before starting day 2, let me backtrack a little.
I mentioned that our proprietor (W.) had procured combustibles for us. Sociable sorts that we are, we asked if she wanted to join us for a smoke, and she heartily agreed. Actually, it was a bit later before we got together, and W. suggested we go by the beach because, "she had friends staying, who she didn't want to smoke around".
So we retire to the beach for a smoke. While enjoying our smoke, W. opens up about the difficulties in running the guest house, how sometimes it can be a bit overwhelming, and how she's currently got tax issues to worry about, etc. Meanwhile, some guy (this guy plays into the story further along also) walks to the end of the property, where he can observe us smoking. Not that I was worried about him, we hadn't met anybody so far who seemed to care whether or not you smoked ganja.
Day 2: Early to bed, made for an early rising, catching the sunrise over the Santa Cruz mountains and a short walk along the beach. Returned for breakfast of fruit, a peanut porridge, juice, and coffee. W. said that it'd be a bit before she was ready to go (she was going to take us to an ATM she swore would work for us), so we headed off to Calabash Bay. Smoked on the walk down, and while hangin' at the beach for a bit (if I were keeping track of joints, these would have been at least the 3rd & 4th of the morning), and then we headed back to Taino Cove.
Shortly after returning W. says she's ready to go, but we have to stop by her home on the way. It appears that W. doesn't do 'manual labor' because, although she was standing next to the car, she tells someone on staff to open the doors to air out the car; throughout our stay she's constantly telling somebody else [i](staff/painter/others) to carry her purse from place to place.
Apparently, the friends she spoke of previously, would be following us over. The guy driving was the same guy I spotted the evening before, and he had 2 women with him. W. suggests that we smoke on the way up, & we oblige her.
We arrive at her house, and it's huge by Jamaican standards, just a couple doors down from the local police station (which isn't much more than a one room shack). She's actually just finishing up her place, and there's no furniture in it (she did have a picture of herself with Yasser Arafat on the wall though, she apparently had been on some sort of "peace" mission, or more than likely "politically connected").
As she's taking us around the place, she keeps boasting about the great place she has & how it's 'party time'(she's literally dancing as she says this). In one of the rooms, we come across painters who are painting it a mauve (at least that's what my wife says the color was). W. looks around and says, "I think I liked the purple better".
Looking around, it becomes obvious what she means. As she leaves the room, I linger a bit and ask the painter if the room had already been painted purple - and with a sly smile, he says "yes". I suggest that this probably isn't the only room he's repainted, and he again just nods in agreement.
W. definitely has a beautiful place, and a wonderful view from both a 2nd floor balcony, and a rooftop party area. While we're lingering on the rooftop, W. once again goes on about the place & the possibility for a party. While still lingering, I notice that the guy who was driving, was off to himself. Since we hadn't been introduced to anybody, I go over and make an introduction. His name is Vincent, he never met W. before yesterday, and is only driving for his friends.
W. eventually grabs one of the painters to come along, so he can match the old purple with some new purple, and away we go - with Vincent and crew following.
It's at this time I ask W. about her friends following us. She says that only one of them was her friend, who lives in the States, but was in Jamaica to bury both parents who died within days of each other (later she mentions the crumbling marriage too). W. had suggested her friend come to Treasure Beach to take her mind off things. W. also says how this woman's mood has been a real downer (DUH!).
We next stop at what wasn't much more than a crossroad with a couple buildings. One of the shops is evidently a hardware store, but doesn't have the paint she needs. Away we go again, to the town of Junction - with a larger hardware store & an ATM machine.
But 1st, we actually stop at a 'tourist attraction', Lover's Leap. Supposedly a couple slaves (lovers) flung themselves off the cliff rather than getting captured by their master. The spot has a beautiful view, and a nice bar/restaurant where we had drinks & chatted for a bit. Some of the chat getting political, and the mrs. going on about how Jamaica should legalize ganja and make a fortune off the taxes, etc. During these conversations, Vincent mentions that he 'works for the government' (evidently not just a 'driver', as I had earlier assumed). We eventually head off for Junction.
1st the hardware store. Since they don't have the exact color, W. will have to choose from a color strip and they'll mix it for her. Luckily for W., my wife has a commercial art degree, and did color matching for a wall covering company - so she helps out. The guy who mixes paint isn't there at the moment so off we go for the ATM. W. drops the mrs. & I off in front of the Scotia Bank, and takes off with the painter for more supplies.
This Area of St. Elizabeth parish is the "breadbasket" of Jamaica, and just as in the States, farmers tend to live on bigger lots, with bigger houses. And Junction is a buzzing little community too.
Eureka!! An ATM that works. What a relief that was. While waiting for W. I head into a shop for some Jamaican 'patties' - and they were great. 'Patties' are a pastry filled with a spicy meat concoction, similar to what can be had at a FEBO. So the mrs. & I just hang out in this busy little spot for a bit 'til W. returns. While waiting, we exchanged a hello with a passerby or two - essentially the same interaction we'd have in 'Anytown, USA'.
It was back to the hardware store for the paint, a few other stops along the way, and then to W.'s house where we meet her husband, a retired Washington D.C. lawyer (Jamaican born, like W.). W. wants to have a smoke, so we head out back. Vincent and crew never smoking with us, but in the vicinity just the same.
Not exactly what we had planned for the day, but we did get to 'Lover's Leap' which was on our list of things to do. Later, we headed for Jack Sprat, the local "happenin' spot". Had a wonderful jerked crab - that was messy as hell; Watched the sunset; & chatted up a couple locals. By this time it was raining a bit, so they called W. to pick us up.
Back at Taino Cove, we head out to the bar and chat with W. for a bit. She once again complains about her friend being such a 'downer' & won't even join us at the bar. We do manage to get Vincent out for a beer. He says that him and his female friend will be leaving tomorrow. W.'s friend would be staying on.
Eventually, we called it a night.
And though I didn't mention every joint smoked, (or which ones were hash filled), suffice it to say - we were stoned most of the day!
Day 3's next, wherein we discover Vincent's real job.
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